Request: atsumu-nii still has morals unlike your depraved osamu-nii. he doesn’t want to fuck his imouto but he wants to be cucked instead. if he imagines himself as osamu fucking you maybe he’d get off to that instead. + may i request an osamu-nii cucking atsumu-nii whose morals are holding back his lust for his sister?
These are two very similar requests as in they’re almost the exact same so I’m assuming that one person sent in the same request twice. It’s been on my accepted list since I received it so there was no reason to send it in twice, but if two people sent in different requests: If your request seems similar to something I haven’t done yet but is in my wips, wait until I get to it. Next time this happens, I’ll delete both requests.
Late at night, Atsumu didn’t think anybody else would be awake. Putting on a match between the Red Falcons and Black Jackals, he puts in his earbuds to avoid waking anybody up. He doesn’t admit it to anyone except you, but he likes to imagine himself as the setter for the Black Jackals, the one that helps all the outside hitters score ridiculous amounts of points. He likes the color scheme of the Black Jackals and loves to watch replays of their wins, even their losses, watching how the team flawlessly blends together yet show their individuality.
Through the earbuds, he didn’t have the game volume on high which allowed him to hear noises from your room — beside him. Pausing the game, he took out one bud to listen in on what you were doing, hearing the creaking of your mattress and your voice — along with Osamu’s. Curiosity peaked when he heard his brother, curious to see what you two were talking about so late.
“You have to be quiet, ‘Samu,” your hushed voice said, your next sentence almost breathless. “‘Tsumu is next to me, y’know,”
“He sleeps like a log, won’t even budge awake. I made sure he was ‘sleep before I came in. No light at all, we’re fine,” Osamu says, small pauses in between as if he was using his mouth for something else. Atsumu completely stopped the video, turning his phone off completely as to not alert them he was indeed awake. Your breathless moans filled in the silence after Osamu finished speaking, leading Atsumu to one conclusion:
You and Osamu were fucking, or we’re about to.
Now, Atsumu can’t be too upset, knowing he’s often listened in on you masturbating yourself, wondering how you’d react to him joining you or sliding hints he knew what you did in your room when you thought he was tuned into a match. He didn’t know you would turn to Osamu when he slept, but now he’s glad for a sleepless night. Unable to hold back, he pulls down the waistband of his sweats and boxers, finding himself hard just by thinking of you and Osamu. Well, it could be you and him, but that would require him to act on his sinful desires. He had come to accept his fate on the sidelines, wishing he was every boyfriend you ever had. Did you fuck Osamu behind their backs, too? How much time has Atsumu spent wallowing in his desires, thinking nothing would come of it, while you spent your time with your other brother?
A sharp moan comes from you, snapping him from his thoughts, before your noises are muffled, hushed whispers from Osamu. Atsumu can’t hold himself back, shoving a pillow against his chest and biting down on it, shuffling close enough to the wall he can hear your bed whining under Osamu’s weight. Wrapping one hand around his cock, he closes his eyes to try and imagine just what is going on beyond the wall.
Your moans are still soft, probably due to your own hand and willpower keeping them down, perhaps one hand in Osamu’s hair as he peppers kisses along your body. He wonders what you’d taste like, would you be as sweet as he hoped you’d be? Mewl as sweetly as he imagined? With no holds barred, he could imagine you in a pretty white gown, moaning so sweetly as he wrapped his lips around your clit, fingers rubbing against your sensitive walls. Another muffled squeal comes from you, Atsumu’s hand moving faster as he imagines you sounding like that as if he was entering you, deflowering you as he always imagined he would.
Would you still turn to Osamu if you were betrothed to Atsumu? Would you prefer Osamu over Atsumu?
Atsumu can hear your moans get higher and louder, only to be muffled as Osamu’s groans mingle with them. He curses his brother for covering up your noises, but he falls back into his mind, imaging he’s the one fucking you. Your legs would probably wrap around his waist, tugging his closer as he gets closer to finishing. It’s almost too hot for him, hand rubbing the red skin as he finishes, white semen dribbling down his cock and covering his pillow — which is white, thankfully. He imagines you came as well, hearing pants and wet, loud kisses coming from the two of you, basking in the afterglow.
Even as he sits there, dirty tissues in his trash can, even as he hears Osamu leave you with a “I’ll be back tomorrow, baby,” he can’t bring himself to let you know. He’s not like Osamu, he’s not glutton for anything he can get. Atsumu has too much pride to go to you; instead, he’ll wait up tomorrow to see how you sound. His imagination will do the rest.
Warnings: cuckolding, breeding kink, Bokuto can’t touch himself, pussyjob, ‘kitten’ as a pet name
“Remember the rules, Bokuto,”
“I got this, no sweat,” your husband’s voice came from beside you. In your bedroom, he sits on the chair he brought in to spectate the event, his best friend on his bed, in between your legs, his wife’s legs, with his cock out. Bokuto has his legs crossed, his arms resting on the arms of the chair, leaning back as his eyes raked across your naked form. Even if he wasn’t the one indulging in your body, he could still admire you from afar. Kuroo seemed to be reveling in the position and power he holds over Bokuto and you, his hands keeping your legs spread as he ruts his dick against your folds. Your hands dig into the fabric of the sheets below you, waiting for Kuroo to take the plunge, so to speak. “Be good for Kuroo, okay, babe?”
“As always, honey,” you shoot back, blowing a kiss to your husband. His grin is a mile wide, glowing as he pretends to catch it and put it against his heart. Kuroo has half a mind to make Bokuto leave if he’s going to be lovey dovey, but he doesn’t. If Bokuto leaves, what’s the fun in fucking his wife? This is a present to you, of course, but the cherry on top is Bokuto watching it go down.
So he’ll stay and sit. Unable to touch himself, no matter how bad it gets.
Kuroo is soon moving his hand from your thigh, pushing his cock into your folds with his thumb. A soft moan comes from you, head falling into the pillows as Kuroo teases you. “Like that, kitten?” He receives a nod as a response, smirking at how pliant you seem to be under his touch. Pushing into your cunt, you moan as your back arches, feeling him spread you out. He’s not as thick nor as big as Bokuto, but he seems to be better in the technique department as he rolls his hips while entering you. He rubs against your walls, sending spikes of pleasure through you as he continues to rock into you. Shallow moans escape your lips, finding your eyes occasionally landing on Bokuto, fists white as he watches everything.
Kuroo chuckles, deep and short, as he bottoms out inside you, cock bumping your cervix as his hands move from holding you open to your waist. Then he’s pulling out to snap his hips back to yours, eliciting a mewl from you as he starts off rough and fast. Hands move from your hips to the bed under you, keeping him stable and steady over you. His groans and grunts are harder to hear, your moans of pleasure much higher as he drives himself into your cunt. Beads of sweat drip down the sides of his face as his brow knit together, intense concentration on fucking you. Your hand moves to your clit, desperate for more.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Kuroo clicks his tongue, moving your hand away. “You lay back and enjoy the pleasure,” he puts his hand on your clit, rubbing the sensitive nerves as you scream from the sensations. He’s definitely skilled in the technique department, having you squirming and mewling like a bitch in heat within minutes of him entering you. Legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper and closer as you feel your high build more and more. “So frisky,”
A soft groan comes from beside you, eyes glancing to see Bokuto is currently struggling to restrain himself. A prominent tent is in his pants, while his hands are clasped together. His own brows are knit together, making you wonder if there’s going to be more to look forward to. Your thoughts are shattered when Kuroo does a particularly harsh thrust, leaning down to cover your body with his. “‘M— Kuroo!”
“Go on, cream on my cock,” is all he needs to say, you arching your back as your walls flutter around his girth, eyes rolling as a guttural moan comes from you. Kuroo picks up his pace, letting you ride out your high. “I’m close, I’m gonna fill you up, okay?”
“Wan’ you inside me, please—!” Another harsh thrust cuts you off, feeling Kuroo groan as he spills inside you, your legs locking him close to you to keep him there. Hot semen coats your inner walls and fills you up completely, another moan as he rolls his hips once more, before pulling out. Watching his seed spill out of you, he finds himself ready to go another round. Turning to Bokuto, however, he thinks of another idea.
