yo you have GOT to make it so your posts don't show up in random searches 😭 there's a setting for a reason. i didn't need to get a face full of your kink writing bro
yo you have GOT to stop telling grown ppl what to do. there's a block option for a reason. it's not MY responsibility to curate YOUR online experience bro. girl bye 💁🏼♀️
ִֶָ. ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐cw→ nsfw. MDNI. jealous/possessive!keiji akaashi x f!reader. backshot.
KEIJI AKAASHI has never been a possessive man. a quietly passionate man, a restrained man, yes, but never possessive.
however, something about the scene he had discovered earlier tonight as he returned from the bar’s restroom - that guy you used to know had been sitting in keiji’s chair, the way he had pushed keiji’s drink aside to set his own in its place, the way he had touched your arm - keiji’s girlfriend’s arm - while he'd talked to you, his voice coated in poisonous seduction.
keiji tries to shove the twinge of jealousy down, just as he now presses your shoulders down against the bed. he wills the way that guy touched your bare elbow out of his mind, but it’s far too late. something had already been awakened in him and he wishes that guy was here now so he could see the way you arch your back for keiji and hear the whimper in your voice when “keiji~” falls from your trembling lips.
he’d observed with satisfaction as you’d straightened your arms, pulling away from the guy with a firm “i’m here with someone”, your eyes flitting to keiji, easing his distress and deep-seated anxiety. and yet he still can’t help but feel vindicated when he hooks his hands around your hips, pulling your thighs flush with his own as if holding you closer against him will imprint his name into your skin like a brand.
it all stirs a side of him neither of you have ever seen or felt before. something that can only be described as feral. something that taps into his primordial essence as a man. nature herself pokes at him, prods at his ego, daring him to be a little selfish for once as a thread of precum swings from his shaft when he glides it between your folds. the ridge of his tip drags over your clit as he kneads and squeezes the fat of your butt.
keiji wants that guy to witness when he stakes his claim, when his cockhead catches at your entrance and he begins to push inside you. he spreads your cheeks apart and watches as your tight hole slowly swallows his dark pink tip. you moan and arch your back for him, hard nipples grazing the sheets below. he pushes halfway in before withdrawing, your creamy slick smearing along half his shaft, gathering around the edge of his tip, and he has to look away to avoid coming too soon. just as he’s about to pull all the way out, he pushes in again, slow and deep until his full length is fully sheathed inside your wet heat. he holds himself there, his head spinning, dark blue eyes sliding shut, and lips parting at the sheer pleasure he feels to finally be buried inside you, tight and fluttering and hot.
your boyfriend leans over you, a sheen of sweat blossoming along the center of his chest, his skin flushed with the warmth of arousal as it brushes against your back with every thrust of his eager hips. he fights it and tries to push it down, repressing his aching urge to possess you because he’d never want to actually own you. you are your own person. you are his equal. you’re perfectly capable of handling your own problems and managing your own emotions and turning down a man who isn’t keiji. he knows all of this intellectually and yet he feels the jealousy burn in his veins and he’s almost ashamed. almost.
even as he buries himself deep inside you, balls pressed to your clit, keiji still pushes forward, rutting and willing himself impossibly deeper, closer like a physical declaration by way of taking up space when that familiar heat begins to pool in your womb. his breath is hot and ragged behind your neck, his teeth raking across your electrified skin and sending a searing shiver down your spine. he’s driving his wet cock into you harder, the sheets below threatening to tear in your white-knuckled grip with every snap of his hips, sending you perilously closer and closer to that soul-splintering edge. he grabs your jaw with enough force that you couldn’t close your mouth even if you wanted to, his lips ghosting over your ear when a single word rides the low growl that rumbles from the depths of his chest:
“mine.”
your eyes snap open, looking over your shoulder and holding his dark, unapologetic gaze as he straightens up again. if you couldn’t see him out of the corner of your very own eye, you wouldn’t have believed it was the same keiji akaashi you’ve been dating for months - the same sweet, intelligent, thoughtful, observant, soft-spoken keiji akaashi that you know and love.
he fucks you hard and deep, pulling you back into his thrusts. the pressure of his tightened balls rubbing against your clit, the fresh memory of his guttural growl having traveled from your eardrum to your core finally sends you, quietly commanding you to cum, pushing you over the sheer precipice of pleasure into the void of weightlessness and mindlessness just before the fall. keiji watches as your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open with a desperate cry of his name, your pussy dripping and clenching all around him, sucking his soul from his cock as his balls begin to throb.
his long, slender fingers dig into the fat of your hips when he pulls out, whispering a hoarse “fuuuuck” just before the first eruption of his hot cum hits your skin, a long thick thread that reaches between your shoulder blades. his wet shaft rests between the top of your butt crack, jerking as he paints your dewy back with his entire orgasm, marking you with his musk and a shattered sigh of your name.
only your heady sighs and panting breaths fill the comfortable silence for several seconds before keiji reaches for the box of tissues on your nightstand. you rest your head on folded arms as he gently cleans his spend off your back. his movements are slow and deliberate, more in line with the keiji you recognize. you lie there, wordlessly wondering what in the world had driven him to such uncharacteristic madness mere moments ago.
“i’m sorry,” he says, a hint of guilt and shame quietly woven into his soft voice.
“hm?” your eyes shift to meet his. “for what?”
he’s almost afraid to say it aloud, averting his eyes and pulling at his own fingers. the blush dusting his cheeks no longer fueled by lust but by embarrassment. “for saying ‘mine’ just before i-...i didn’t mean it. i mean, i meant it but not like that. like...” and just like that, keiji's not quite himself again, only now the ego-fueled confidence is gone and he’s just a flustered ball of nerves. “...like we’re together but i didn’t mean…i don’t want you to think that, you know, that i like...own you or-”
he pauses when he glances over and notices the corner of your mouth curl into a dangerous smile. of course he notices. this is keiji akaashi you’re dealing with. he reads you like a book, memorizes your weaknesses, masters your tells. you should know better than to think you could slip that past him. “wait…” he says, the usual softness and level deliberation returning to his voice. “you liked that, didn’t you?”
“liked what? n-no!” you lie, turning away from him to hide the glaring heat rising from your neck to the tops of your ears. honestly. you should know better.
you feel the bed dip when keiji shifts to face you again, narrowing his eyes at you as a devilish grin plays at the edges of his lips. “you’re lying.”
you can’t help it. you break into a full smile and look at him. “keiji, that was so hot,” you confess, rolling your eyes lustfully for emphasis. “please don’t hesitate to do it again, sir.”
from that day onward, he keeps it in his repertoire. and if you’re not already fucking when he leans in and drops a breathy “mine” behind your ear, you will be in very short order.
keiji m.list ִֶָ. ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐ haikyuu m.list
ִֶָ. ࣪ ִֶָ་༘࿐ thank you for reading. i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it. 18+ reblogs/comments/follows/likes always welcome and appreciated !!
rewatching jjk and just making sure y'all know satoru gojo is a F R E A K 💁🏼♀️
bro's the type to eat the pussy from behind, spit on his dick and slap your clit with it before he puts it in, plant one of his feet to make sure he's got good leverage then fuck you on your side with one leg propped on his shoulder
038. benches, balance, and beginnings — iwaizumi hajime.
wc: 0.4k
cw: gn!reader. personal trainer!iwaizumi. confessions. getting together
you’d been training with iwaizumi for almost a year before it started to feel different.
not in any obvious way — he still greeted you with the same grin when you walked in, still handed you a towel between sets, still corrected your form with a gentle nudge or a low “careful” when your focus slipped. but somewhere between the easy banter, the way he remembered every detail you told him, and the rare moments his gaze lingered just a fraction too long, something shifted.
and if he noticed the same thing in you, he didn’t say.
he was good at that — at drawing the line, keeping the sessions light but professional. maybe that’s why you never pushed, never gave yourself away. not until the afternoon he asked if you wanted to grab something to eat after.
you thought it was casual at first, just two people who knew each other well enough to spend a little time outside the gym. but then, halfway to the café, he stopped walking.
“i’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he said, thumb hooking into the strap of his bag. “and i figured… it’s better if i tell you now before i overthink it again.”
you raised an eyebrow, smiling just a little. “tell me what?”
“that i like you.” he looked straight at you, voice steady but warm. “and i’d like to take you out, but—” he hesitated, “—i don’t want this to ruin what we’ve got. i don’t want you to feel like you have to say yes because i’m your trainer.”
you laughed then, not because it was funny, but because the worry in his eyes didn’t match the certainty in yours. “iwa, i’m not saying yes because you’re my trainer,” you said, nudging his arm. “i’m saying yes because i like you too.”
the relief on his face was instant, followed by the kind of smile that reached all the way to his eyes.
after that, things shifted again — not in a way that felt strange or awkward, just…right. he stopped charging you for sessions. you stopped calling them sessions. and soon enough, iwaizumi wasn’t your personal trainer anymore. he was your boyfriend, the one who always accompanied you to the gym, spotting you with the same care he always had, only now with the occasional kiss between sets.
and maybe, you thought, that was the best workout plan you’d ever signed up for.
a/n: requested by @kingdaddydaichi. i hope you enjoy <3
The scent of rich broth and fresh noodles hung thick in the air, filling Osamu’s restaurant with a warmth that, under any other circumstance, he would have appreciated.
But tonight? Tonight, it was the smell of betrayal.
Osamu leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching with thinly veiled irritation as you happily slurped down another bite of Atsumu’s ramen.
His twin sat across from you, looking way too pleased with himself, arms folded as he watched you enjoy his so-called cooking.
Osamu hated that look.
It was the same damn smirk Atsumu had worn their whole lives—whenever he managed to piss Osamu off, whenever he got away with something he shouldn’t have, whenever he won by sheer bullshit luck.
And now? Now he was wearing it in Osamu’s own shop.
"Damn, ‘Tsumu," you sighed, tilting the bowl to sip the broth. "This is amazing. I didn’t know you could cook like this!"
Osamu felt a deep, personal offense settle in his bones.
His entire career revolved around food. He had spent years perfecting his recipes, testing flavors, fine-tuning every last detail. He had trained under some of the best chefs, built this restaurant from the ground up.
And now, here you were, gushing over a bowl of glorified college survival food.
Atsumu leaned back, smug. "Told ya. I got talents."
Osamu let out a slow, controlled breath through his nose.
"You put a packet of dried seasoning into hot water," he said flatly.
You blinked. "Yeah, but the broth is really flavorful! What did you put in it, ‘Tsumu?"
Atsumu smirked, tipping his head like he was about to unveil some grand chef's secret. "Oh, ya know, just instinct—"
"It’s instant."
You didn’t even catch the shift in energy, completely oblivious to the deadly stare Osamu was leveling at his twin.
Atsumu sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Technically, yeah," he admitted, "but I added some stuff—”
“Oh, yeah?” Osamu lifted a brow, arms still crossed tight. “And what’d ya add, exactly?”
Atsumu suddenly found the ceiling very interesting. “Uh. A soft-boiled egg.”
Osamu’s eye twitched.
Silence stretched between them.
Tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
You, utterly unaware, stretched with a satisfied sigh. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”
You leaned down to press a quick kiss to Osamu’s cheek—normally enough to calm him down—but he was too busy staring daggers at his brother to even register it.
The second the door shut behind you, Osamu turned to Atsumu.
“What’s your deal?”
Atsumu blinked, mouth half-full of noodles. “Huh?”
Osamu’s jaw tightened. “Ya woke up today and decided to piss me off?”
“For makin’ ramen?”
"She liked it."
Atsumu stared, then—as if the realization physically smacked him across the face—his lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, like he was witnessing something life-changing. His eyes gleamed with mischief. "Are ya—jealous?"
Osamu stiffened.
"Shut up."
"No. No way." Atsumu clutched his chest like he had just been blessed with the funniest joke in history. "Yer seriously mad ‘cause she liked my ramen?”
"Ya don’t cook," Osamu shot back, glaring. "That’s my thing."
Atsumu laughed. Full, loud, obnoxious cackles that echoed through the kitchen.
“Oh, ‘Samu,” he wheezed, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. "I promise, yer the only chef in my heart."
Osamu grabbed a dishtowel and launched it straight at his face.
Atsumu barely dodged in time, still laughing like a damn hyena.
By the time you returned, Atsumu was half-wheezing into his bowl, Osamu was murdering a pile of green onions with his knife, and the air was thick with something way more intense than sibling rivalry.
You raised an eyebrow. "Uh… did I miss something?"
Atsumu, struggling to breathe through his grin, pointed a dramatic finger at his twin.
Osamu, without looking up, muttered, "He’s banned from my kitchen."
Kuroo’s grandparents’ house was packed. The warm hum of conversation filled every corner, blending with the occasional burst of laughter and the distant sound of kids squealing as they ran through the hallways. His entire family had gathered for his grandfather’s birthday, a rare full-family event that happened maybe once a year.
The kitchen was a flurry of activity, aunts swapping recipes and gossip over steaming dishes while his uncles gathered around the dining table, engaged in heated debates over sports. Kuroo’s grandmother had you both cornered earlier, asking—no, demanding—when you two planned on giving her great-grandchildren, and before you could even attempt an answer, Kuroo had expertly steered the conversation to something else, saving you from the relentless interrogation.
You had smiled, nodded, played your role as the perfect daughter-in-law, but after hours of dodging prying questions and smiling at distant relatives whose names you barely remembered, you were in desperate need of a break. The stuffy warmth of the crowded living room and the persistent hum of voices pressing in from all sides made escape your only option.
So, you slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a quiet sigh, pressing your hands against the sink. A deep breath, a few moments to yourself—that was all you needed. A little peace, a little space, a moment where you weren’t being eyed like a future baby-making machine.
Then, a few minutes later, the door clicked open again.
You barely had time to turn before Kuroo slipped in, shutting it behind him.
Your eyes widened. "What are you—"
"Let’s fuck."
You blinked. "Wow. How romantic. You really know how to set the mood, Tetsurō. Maybe light a candle next time? Play some soft jazz?"
His smirk was slow, lazy, dangerous. "Oh, I’d play something, alright. But I don’t think you’d be able to focus on the music."
You scoffed, folding your arms. "Tetsurō, we’re at your grandparent’s house. At a family event. With people literally roaming the halls. But sure, let’s add public indecency to our marriage résumé. That'll really impress your grandma."
He leaned in, pressing his hands against the sink behind you, caging you in. “And?”
Your heart pounded. “And it’s a terrible idea.”
Kuroo tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “You remember that bet we made a few weeks ago?”
Your stomach dropped.
Of course, you remembered. Some stupid, petty argument over who could name more world capitals or something equally dumb. You lost.
And Kuroo? He said he’d save his favor for the right moment.
This was apparently it.
“Tetsurō.” You crossed your arms, trying to look firm despite the way your pulse hammered in your throat. “Absolutely not.”
He grinned. “You agreed to the deal.”
“I didn’t think you’d cash it in like this!”
He hummed, tilting his head. “Well, it’s the perfect time. No one even notices we’re gone.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the second his hands slid down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your hips, his body heat radiating against yours—
Your resolve crumbled.
“You wouldn’t.”
Kuroo leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Oh, I would.”
And with the way he was pressing into you, his hands gripping you like he’d already won— you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop him.
His fingers trailed lower, teasing, playful, pressing into the fabric of your dress just enough to make you gasp. “You know, I was gonna save this for something special, but…” he exhaled against your neck, his voice dark, teasing. “I think you’d rather pay up right now, wouldn’t you?”
Your breath hitched, hands coming up to push against his chest—half-heartedly. “Your Mother is outside.”
His smirk deepened. “And? No one’s paying attention.”
“Tetsurō—”
“Shhh,” he murmured, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up. His lips hovered over yours, barely brushing, mocking. “You’re acting like you don’t want this.”
Your skin burned, and you cursed how easily he could unravel you. The worst part? He knew it. He knew you’d fold for him, knew exactly how to make your body betray you.
“Tell me you don’t want me,” he murmured, lips pressing just beneath your ear, his breath hot and slow.
You swallowed hard. “Tetsu—”
His hands slid further down, gripping your hips, pulling you against him. “Say it, baby. Say you don’t want me to touch you.”
You couldn’t.
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, your resolve slipping further with every second.
Kuroo chuckled, the sound low and full of satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”
His hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin of your thighs. “You’re already getting warm, baby,” he whispered. “You sure you wanna keep resisting me?”
You clenched your jaw, trying to fight the way your body shuddered under his touch.
You parted your lips, ready to say something—anything—but the moment his fingers pressed just a little higher, your breath hitched, and you knew you were done for.
Kuroo’s smirk widened. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
And then, he kissed you.
Deep, slow, devouring.
Your back hit the bathroom counter, your arms winding around his neck as he took his time, teasing you, making you fall apart without even trying.
“We have to be quiet,” he whispered against your lips.
And with the way he was dragging you under, drowning you in heat, in want, in him— you knew that was going to be impossible.
But instead of answering, you simply nodded, your breath uneven, your body already melting against him. His eyes darkened at your silent surrender, and before you could process it, you were kissing him again—deeper, more desperate, all hesitation gone.
His hands moved instantly, slipping further beneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing, waiting. "That's my girl," he murmured against your lips, his grip tightening as he pressed you harder against the counter. "Now, let's see how well you can keep quiet."
His fingers slid between your thighs, parting them just enough before slipping under your underwear, skimming over your warmth with a featherlight touch. You sucked in a sharp breath, your hands gripping the sink behind you as he chuckled low against your lips. "Already so warm for me, baby."
You bit down on your lip as his fingers pressed in, slow but firm, stretching you just enough to make your legs shake. He worked you open with practiced ease, his other hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still as your body responded to every precise curl of his fingers.
A whimper nearly escaped your lips, but you slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening as you remembered where you were.
Kuroo smirked, dark and wicked, his fingers moving faster, his thumb circling that sensitive spot that had your stomach tightening. "That’s it," he whispered, nipping at your jaw. "Keep quiet for me. You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?"
You shook your head, muffled sounds slipping between your fingers as your thighs trembled around his hand. He was relentless, teasing, playing, knowing exactly how to push you to the edge without letting you go over.
Then, just as your breath hitched, just as your body started to tighten around his fingers, he withdrew.
You let out a desperate, choked sound, but before you could protest, you felt the unmistakable press of him against you. Hot. Hard. Teasing.
He groaned as he rubbed himself against your entrance, just barely pushing the tip inside before pulling away.
"Shit—you're shaking, baby," he whispered, his voice rough, strained with control. "You want it that bad, huh?"
Before you could answer, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the sink. The cool porcelain against your skin sent a shiver up your spine, but it was nothing compared to the way he slotted himself between your legs, teasing you further as he lined himself up.
"Hold on to me," he muttered, voice thick with hunger.
Your arms wrapped around his neck just as he pushed inside, slow but deliberate, stretching you inch by inch. A strangled moan built in your throat, but you barely bit it back, eyes fluttering shut as he bottomed out, filling you completely.
His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he started to move, deep and steady at first, but quickly growing more desperate. His breath was hot against your neck, each groan rumbling through his chest as he thrust into you, the wet sound of skin against skin mixing with your ragged breathing.
Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in deeper, chasing the edge that was already creeping up on you. His hand snuck between your bodies, fingers finding that sensitive spot, circling, pressing, sending white-hot pleasure straight to your core.
"T-Tetsu—" you gasped, one hand flying to your mouth as your body trembled around him.
"That’s it," he groaned, fucking into you harder, faster. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it."
You were right there, so close, when—
Knock. Knock.
Your eyes shot open, panic freezing you in place.
"Tetsurō?" came the unmistakable voice of his older sister from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"
Kuroo barely faltered, grinning like the devil as he stilled inside you, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Yeah, be out in a sec," he called back easily, voice steady despite the fact that he was currently buried inside you.
His sister huffed. "Hurry up, it's time for cake. Also, where’s your wife?"
Your breath caught, but Kuroo? Unbothered.
"Dunno," he lied smoothly, thrusting into you just once, slow and teasing. "Maybe she got lost."
You bit your lip, glaring at him, nails digging into his shoulders.
His sister sighed. "Whatever. Just get your ass out here."
The second her footsteps faded down the hall, you swatted his arm, chest heaving.
"You are unbelievable."
Kuroo grinned, pulling back only to slam into you again, harder this time, forcing a muffled cry from your lips. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as your entire body clenched around him.
"That’s right," he whispered against your ear, his pace unrelenting, each thrust sharp and punishing. "You're shaking so much—gonna act like you don’t love this? Like you don’t get off on almost getting caught?"
You tried to glare at him, but with the way his cock was hitting that perfect spot inside you, all you could do was shudder, mouth parting in helpless gasps.
"Yeah, that’s what I thought," he taunted, watching the way your body twitched under him, the way you clung to him like you needed him to keep you from falling apart.
His fingers slid back between your legs, finding your swollen, desperate clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. The sudden sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, and you bit down hard on your own hand to keep from crying out.
"That close already?" he murmured, feeling the way your walls fluttered around him, the way your legs trembled around his waist. "Bet you love this, don’t you? Letting me fuck you like this when anyone could walk in."
You tried to protest, but all that came out was a broken moan, breathless and wrecked.
Kuroo chuckled, breath hot against your cheek. "No snarky comeback? No sarcasm? Baby, you’re too far gone to even argue, huh?"
His words only pushed you further, the tension inside you winding impossibly tight. His thrusts grew sharper, his fingers working you relentlessly until you finally shattered, your entire body convulsing as pleasure crashed over you.
Your orgasm triggered his, his rhythm stuttering as he groaned low against your skin, spilling deep inside you.
For a long moment, the only sound in the bathroom was your combined heavy breathing, the weight of what just happened settling between you.
Then, Kuroo smirked, pressing one last slow kiss to your jaw. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"
You barely had the strength to lift your head, your breath still coming in heavy, uneven pants. Swallowing hard, you managed to rasp, "Never again."
Kuroo only chuckled, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back. "Come on, there's cake."
You groaned, still trying to reassemble your thoughts, your body tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure. With shaky hands, you reached down, pulling up your panties—now soaked with his release—and quickly adjusted your dress, trying to look at least somewhat composed before stepping back out into the party.
Kuroo, the smug bastard, was already fixing his shirt, completely unbothered, his smirk not fading for even a second as he reached for the door handle. "Think Grandma will notice how wrecked you look?"
You swatted at him, glaring. "Shut up, Tetsurō."
But as you stepped out, legs still wobbly, Kuroo just shot you a knowing grin. "Too late. You already look guilty."
cw: nsfw. MDNI. x f!reader. kuroo calls himself ‘daddy’ (he would) and reader ‘baby doll’.
Tetsu sitting on the edge of your bed, his long fingers digging into your hips, helping you along as you ride his thigh. Bare pussy on his naked skin, the musculature of his quadricep putting pressure on just the right spot. His hard cock leaking onto the floor below, the sparse hairs on his leg tickling your clit. His mouth next to your ear, muttering filthy praises and dirty words of encouragement, a teasing lilt deep inside his whispers of “good girl, ride daddy’s thigh just like that” and “you’re doing so well, baby doll, I can feel you dripping off my skin” “yeah? you gonna cum for me? Hm? Come apart on me and make a mess of my leg?”
“Ahh~ yeahh~” you whine, slack-jawed and your arms hooked around the back of his neck.
“Gonna let me bury my cock in that sopping cunt when you’re done?”
“God, yes tetsu~” fingers curling in his black hair, nails digging into the back of his scalp. “Need your cock-“
“Yeah? Cum for me then~” bouncing his leg hard to send you right over the precipice with a long, breathy moan of his name. All so he can flip you over and sink his greedy, aching hard-on into that puckering pussy already.
not in a bad or deprecating way. in a protective, cared for kind of way.
for the longest time you’ve had to carry all kinds of weight: emotional, mental, even physical. you pride yourself on being quite strong when it comes to carrying heavy items.
ever since meeting daichi you’ve been allowed to turn off your brain. when you’re near him you can just follow his lead, because you know you’re safe.
you’re silent as you climb into his bed, the sheets smelling of him. daichi’s laying on his back, reading trough something on his phone.
in a quick motion, you tuck yourself under his arm, hiding your face in the side of his pec.
“you okay?” he asks softly, turning off his phone and placing it on the nightstand.
“mhm,” you say, not feeling like using your words at the moment. you feel him chuckle before he turns onto his side to embrace you fully, his thick arms circling around your head and his shoulders acting as a shield.
you turn your face to the inside of his neck. you sigh contentedly when you feel the warmth and sturdiness of him surround you. you go boneless.
you feel him smile into your hair before he kisses your forehead.
Out of all the boys who’s the biggest giver (oral) and who’s the most rewarding receiver (best reaction/noises)
a/n: anon I’mma eat your butt for this. Also I had started writing this and the app crashed, making me lose progress. So that’s why I kinda postponed on it— I got lazy😣 this is how I feel btw. Thank you for this!
BIGGEST GIVERS
SUGAWARA KOUSHI.
The sweetest boy you know, with the best talent there is to offer. He can make you feel good alone with just his tongue and lips, but when he pulls out the finger + tongue combo? oh my, he never lets you live down the fact you squirted ALL over his face. He leaks precum and feels his dick twitching in his high quality khaki pants from just eating you out. He never neglects your clit. Whenever he stops sucking on it to stick his tongue inside you or kiss your lips, he uses his free fingers to rub baby circles into that ball of nerves.
TENDOU SATORI.
Have y’all not seen those fingers? Everything about him is long. His limbs, dick, fingers and even his tongue. I mean he can lick you back and forth from your asshole to your clit barely moving his head that much. He BURIES his face into your pussy, like he’s tryna sniff it if I’m being honest with you. Him sticking his tongue inside you is no different from fingering you with those freakishly long fingers the gods gave him. Honestly, he eats pussy for fun. Like whenever he’s bored he looks at you with that smile and slaps his hand on your thigh before giving you THAT look. I love him
TANAKA R. (I’m too lazy to spell his full name)
He eats your pussy AGGRESSIVELY. Like growling into your folds as he sucks and nibbles on the meaty part of your pussy. You tell him to slowdown (cause you don’t wanna cum too quick even though this is his nth time making you squirt it under an hour or two.) he’s not very good with his fingering skills or with his finger at all so you have to tell him to RELEASE your clit because he’s pressing down on it like an elevator button.
MATSUKAWA ISSEI.
Him eating pussy while he’s high? Double kill. He doesn’t even need to be high to eat pussy good, AT ALL. Girl he doesn’t even need to dirty talk you to get wet, his presence and them damn eyes is enough to soak your VS panties. He’s so slow and sensual with it, you’d think he’s making love to your coochie and not YOU cause atp, your pussy has its own mind 💔 that’s exactly how you end up in this position: legs spread, looking down at him while he’s looking up at you..practically French kissing your wetness.
KUROO TETSUROU.
Eats pussy just like matsukawa and Tanaka combined, depending on how he’s feeling really. He eats pussy from the back and the front, the side as well. Will literally put you against a wall and eat your pussy while your face is damn near an inch away from getting cut by the ceiling fan.
DAISHOU SUGURU
He looks like a snake, moves like one to. In bed and out 😫 licks shapes into your clit and WILL stick his whole tongue in that ahh and pussy. I think he likes girls with a fat cat, not talking about plump lips in this case. I mean meaty, some would call it “roast beast”
Daichi and asahi prolly eat ass so I’m not gone put them here I just wanted to make it known..
HONORABLE MENTIONS FOR BIGGEST GIVERS.
TERUSHIMA (that dang tongue piercing.) TSUKISHIMA KEI. yamamoto. KONOHA. TUH..COACH UKAI?!&)373. My glorious BLACK KING ARAN OJIRIO
BEST RECEIVERS.
YAMAGUCHI TADASHI.
I MEAN ATP YALL KNEW I HAD TO ADD MY MAN. His moans are ethereal they make you wanna give him more and frankly they make you wet yourself. They would need to put a chastity belt on us to keep tadashi safe after giving him head and he’s MOANING LIKE THAT. Theyre more of whimpers than moans but when no one’s at home sometimes he’ll let loose sometimes he won’t. But you beg him to moan, this is a judge free zone😫
MIYA TWINS. (Not miyacest you weirdos, I didn’t feel writing them separately.)
Specifically Atsumu, he whines like a little 🐕. I have to use emojis to speak less vulgar but you guys know what I mean by that, right?! Anyways, he grins, moans and groans at the smallest of touches but when he’s getting deepthroated? His face is scrunched up and his mouth is slack, trying his damndest not to pull your hair. Now, osamu— he tries so hard to suppress those pretty noises but it’s honestly no use💔 he lets out a yelp of joy and cries tears of pleasure he cums down your throat.
BOKUTO KOUTAROU.
He screams. And I mean HOLLERS when he’s about to nut and he’s the one fucking your face half the time?? So like😭 does he cry? Yes. Is he overstimulated? It doesn’t matter cause you could lick the precum dribbling down his dick rn in one swipe and he’d still whine. Seeing a big man like that cry from getting his dick and balls sucked on SEPARATELY is something I’d slap my grandma for.
PRINCESS KAWA.
He can barely eat pussy to save his life, his only field of expertise is dicking you down. So when you’re gobbling him up after he won a game? I mean he’s still sweaty, sore and trying to catch his breath and you have a spit bubble forming from sucking his dick..he’s gonna be loud— whining. No passerby’s ears are safe😭
KENMA KOZUME.
He’s mastered silencing his moans when you’re sucking him off because you usually do it in the dead of night when Theres company next door or when he’s in the middle of an online tournament. Let’s just say, hypothetically, he was to put the games down and try to rest but you were needy, and he was exhausted and so he’s bringing the covers up to you swallowing his dick whole..in one piece. It’s like 11pm..early as hell for Kenma to be laying down— and he looks under the covers to see you bobbing your head on his pretty cock. He’s moaning and the sensation but more so at the sight.
Shoyo and noya are no better than bokuto. Their vocal cords are prolly still the same— high pitched and cracked so when they’re getting their dick rubbed or massaged theyre already bucking their hips into your touch and mouth if you decided to get wet today. They have no control over their mind, voice or body when you touch them.
HONORABLE MENTIONS FOR BEST RECEIVERS.
SUGAWARA OFC. Fukunaga. IWAIZUMI. Suna, KUNIMI?!, Kuroo has his moments to..along with tendou. TAKEDA. ASAHI (good god)
I would put Kageyama but he’s such a nervous wreck post and pre-timeskip he wouldn’t know when or how to get loud when he feels pleasured.
lazy and sloppy kisses as he softly takes your nightgown off your body. his hands caressing your now bare skin as if he was touching the purest gold in the world. your legs tangled just as your tongues, your hand caressing his cheek when he pulls you even closer. his hands workships your body until one of them reaches your panties, and starts stroking your wetness through the fabric. you squirm, but you arch into him and pull him closer. tetsuro gently tugs the underwear to the side and pushes two fingers inside you. you moan against his mouth and he caresses your spine soothingly, and his thumb grazes your slightly swollen clit. you clench around his fingers and he drags them out just to add another one, slowly filling you as he deepens the kiss. “you take them so good, you’re such a good girl, you know that?” kuroo whispers against your mouth before kissing you again like he has all the time of the world. it’s not needy - even if he’s rock hard - just slow and sweet, enjoying the taste and feeling of your mouth connected with his. his thumb lays on your clit and traces circles slowly, making you moan into his mouth. “i’m here, baby. give it to me, c’mon. let go” he murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, of course. a rush of pleasure washes over you and you finish, digging your nails on his broad back. “that’s my sweet girl” kuroo pulls away and kisses your forehead before sucking his fingers and pulling you to a hug. “five minutes more and i’ll prepare us breakfast”
Kuroo is the definition of thoughtful aftercare. He’s the type to pull you close immediately, not letting you go until your breathing evens out. He keeps one hand tracing lazy shapes along your back while murmuring in that deep, teasing voice of his—except it’s softer now, stripped of its usual bite. He makes sure you hydrate, brings you a warm towel, and insists on running a bath or shower together. You never have to lift a finger because he enjoys doting on you when you’re pliant and blissed out. After all, he takes pride in being the one who leaves you that way.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
On himself, Kuroo’s proud of his hands—not just for their size but for how well he can use them to make you squirm. On you, he’s obsessed with your neck. He loves how responsive you are when he mouths at it, the way your pulse flutters against his lips, and how marked up he can leave you even if you glare at him the next morning.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He’s got a slight possessive streak, so he loves finishing inside you—condoms or not—because it’s intimate and messy. The sight of it dripping out of you while you’re still trembling makes him smug as hell. If not inside, he’ll aim for your stomach or chest, just so he can smear it in and watch you shiver.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He once jerked off in his office during a late work night, thinking about you visiting him in one of his button-up shirts and nothing else. Now every time you stop by with lunch, he has to work extra hard to keep his composure.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Kuroo has plenty of experience—not in a way that screams “player,” but enough to be confident in reading your body’s reactions and adjusting accordingly. He’s learned to balance teasing with giving you exactly what you need, making him an infuriatingly good lover.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He loves you on your stomach with your hips lifted—deep enough to make you whimper but angled so he can keep a hand on your shoulder or in your hair. It lets him control the pace while whispering right in your ear.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Kuroo is usually a teasing menace, but when he’s inside you, the humor fades into something more intense. The smirks are still there, but they’re slower, more deliberate—he knows exactly how to make you blush and melt without ruining the mood.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He keeps himself neatly trimmed, not bare, just well-maintained. And yes, it’s the same dark color as the hair on his head.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Kuroo’s intimacy is subtle but deep—he’ll kiss you like he’s trying to memorize you, whisper your name like it’s a prayer, and keep his forehead pressed to yours while he moves. Even when it’s rough, there’s always that undercurrent of connection.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t do it often because he’d rather have you, but on the rare occasions he does, it’s usually after a long day when he can’t get the memory of your last time together out of his head. He prefers his hand to porn—imagination is enough when it’s you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Neck kissing/biting, hair pulling (both ways), praise mixed with light degradation, and a slight exhibitionism streak—he gets off on the idea of you trying to stay quiet when you know someone could overhear.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His apartment is the most common, but he has a soft spot for his office after hours. There’s something about bending you over his desk with the city lights behind you that makes him lose his mind.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The smallest thing—seeing you in his clothes, catching a glimpse of your bare thigh when you shift, or even the way your voice drops when you’re tired. Your scent and the way you say his name in a certain tone can undo him instantly.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that crosses into humiliation territory or causes real pain. He enjoys control and dominance, but not at the cost of your comfort or safety.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves giving as much as receiving—maybe more. He’s skilled, patient, and will stay between your thighs until you’re pushing at his head from overstimulation. Receiving? He’s vocal, head tipped back, muttering encouragements between groans.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He can go either way, but his signature pace is slow, deep thrusts that let you feel every inch, paired with bursts of roughness when he wants to remind you who’s in control.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He likes them, especially if you’re both busy—it’s a great way to keep the tension high. He’s efficient enough to make them satisfying, but he still prefers drawn-out sessions.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Kuroo’s game to try most things at least once, especially if you bring it up. Public/semi-public sex is a particular thrill for him, though he’s cautious enough to avoid any actual trouble.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
One round with Kuroo can last a long time because he likes edging both you and himself. On a weekend with no obligations, he can go three or more rounds before exhaustion catches up.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He’s not against them—he’s even bought a few for you both to play with. Vibrators are his favorite to use on you while he’s inside, just to see you fall apart faster.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s absolutely unfair—dragging his fingers just shy of where you need them, stopping his thrusts until you beg, murmuring filthy promises just to make you clench around him.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not loud, but very vocal—low groans, drawn-out curses, and the occasional sharp inhale when you do something that catches him off guard. He’ll also mutter praise and filth in equal measure.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Kuroo has a knack for picking lingerie for you that fits perfectly—not just size-wise, but in style and color that makes you feel irresistible. He claims it’s “a talent for detail,” but you suspect he just knows you better than you think.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Tall, lean but muscular with defined abs and toned arms from years of volleyball and keeping active. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. He’s well-endowed—around 8 to 9 inches, slightly curved, thick enough to stretch you just right, with a darker tip.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Moderately high. Work keeps him busy, but when you’re together, he makes the most of it. The more stressed he is, the more he craves you—it’s his favorite way to unwind.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He stays awake longer than you, idly playing with your hair or tracing patterns on your skin until you drift off first. Then he follows, with you tucked under his chin.
You shouldn’t have gone to his office in that skirt—not with how he’d been watching you all through lunch, his gaze lingering every time you crossed your legs. By the time his last meeting ended, Kuroo was already pulling you inside and locking the door, his tie loosened and his eyes dark.
“You know what you’re doing, walking in here like that?” he murmured, crowding you against his desk. His hands slid under your skirt, fingertips grazing the lace of your panties before hooking them aside.
The first press of his cock into you had your fingers scrambling for purchase on the polished wood, your breath catching as he set a slow, deep rhythm that made your knees weak.
“God, you feel so good,” he groaned against your ear, his hands gripping your hips tighter as the sound of skin meeting skin filled the room. You tried to keep quiet—anyone could be walking past—but he only smirked, angling his hips until you were biting your lip to keep from moaning.
“Go on,” he coaxed, thrusts growing rougher, “let them hear who you belong to.”
It wasn’t long before you came, shuddering in his arms, and he followed with a deep, guttural groan, holding you still as he spilled inside you.
When he finally pulled back, you were a mess against his desk, and his grin was pure trouble.
