#haikyuu jersey

[arctvros]

high school sweethearts to college fiancés

[strawberriesandglasses]

FREAK duo

[touteytout]

the conductorrrrrr

[hinata-boke]

Drawing a randomly generated Haikyuu character (almost) every day until I give up

39. Hinata Natsu

[snikkelerhq]

I did another JNT redraw 🎨

[revasserium]

dirty laundry

kageyama; 1,307 words; nsfw, so so nsfw pls dni if ur a minor, reverse cowgirl, jersey!kink, ali roma!kageyama

a/n: i have rotated the thought of kageyama with a jersey!kink in my mind a few more times.

“hah… please… harder…”

kageyama can’t breathe.

he can’t breathe for the sight of you, for the feeling of you (hot, and warm, and tight, and wet — god, so damn wet) dripping down his cock as you slowly pull yourself up, your thighs on either side of his legs, your ass plump, perfect in the palms of his hands —

you peer over your shoulder (that wonderful, kiss-bruised shoulder, your skin smooth and glistening with sweat —), a dark blush high in your cheeks, your eyes glazed over with want and kageyama thinks himself a lost man. the crumple number 9 emblazoned across the back of the jersey currently threatening to slip from your shoulders catches the street light as it streams in from the opened window.

“f-fuck —” kageyama nearly keens as you swirl your hips, his own kicking up into yours, nearly bouncing you off his cock as you hiccup, head tossing back. he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips, hissing as he forces you back into a semi-coherent rhythm.

“th-there you go — that’s — that’s good —”

it shouldn’t be this hot — seeing you riding him in his old high school jersey, facing away from him towards the mirror propped at the foot of his bed, but then again, he’s always had a thing for you in his clothes. how the sleeves are always too long, how no matter what it is, it always seems to swallow you whole, how the knowledge of your body inside something that is so intrinsically his makes his stomach tense, his mind spin, his cock throb painfully. so painfully.

because it makes him think of being inside you — of fucking you silly with nothing but his jersey on, of pinning you beneath him, your hair splayed out over his sheets, of the color of your skin contrasted against the dark of the material, of his number printed along the ridges of your spine, marking you as his. just his.

“to-tobio — tobio —” your voice is a wreck from how hard he fucked your throat when he first got home to find you, stretched out on his bed, his old jacket slung over your shoulders like an afterthought. it’s cold, you’d said, smiling up at him, smiling that knowing smile because of course you knew. how could you not? how could you have imagined this night going any other direction, when you’d purposefully picked out this jersey of all his jerseys?

“t-turn around — i wan-wanna see you…” he whispers, pulling himself up to wrap his arms around your middle, to press his hands to your stomach, to feel himself pushing up into you, making you keen, your head lolling back onto his shoulders as his name breaks over your lips like prayer.

you’re soft and pliant in his arms as he slowly turns you around, you whining when he briefly pulls his cock from you, the sound making him smirk as he teases at your soaked folds, amusing himself briefly with the thought of edging you till you cry but —

“please tobio — please —”

tonight is not the night, so he nods, letting out a thick moan as he thrusts back into you with a single, fluid motion, letting his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he hoists them over his hips. your ankles lock at the base of his spin as you rut up against him, fingers scrabbling at his biceps, begging for more for harder for faster, faster, faster!

he feels your juices slicking down the front of his thighs as he fucks you and he resists the urge to pull out just to bury his face between your thighs for a taste.

“t-tobio — tobio! i-i’m so —”

“hm — ngh —” kageyama drops one hand to the mattress by your face, all coherence gone, stolen from him by the sight of you, so fucked out beneath him, so desperate for release, and yet so helpless to get there. he grins, a hungry, roguish thing as he leans down to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, licking into your mouth, swallowing down the little mewls and moans bubbling up the back of your throat. he feels your closeness, feels it in the way you clench around him, your entire body shuddering as he pounds into you, deep enough to be almost painful, deep enough for you to squirm beneath him even though you know that it’s a futile struggle.

he holds you close, pins you still, “s-so what, hm?”

and he’s not unaffected, you know he isn’t — how could he be? after all this, after the way he’d frozen in the doorway, the way he’d dropped his sports bag, crawled onto the bed and caged you in beneath him, kissed you with a vicious, mounting hunger behind his teeth. he doesn’t like to pretend, so he doesn’t.

“so f-full —”

he lets out a ragged gasp, buries his face in your shoulder as his hips jerk against you, forcing a hand between your bodies to thumb sloppily at your clit, his fingers sliding in the wetness gathered there, unable to find purchase.

“goddamnit — fuck — c-close —” he is breathless, mindless, his whole body buzzing with the pleasure, the warmth, the twist and burn of the familiar tightening coil, but he pulls back to look at you, to find your eyes in the darkness, framed by tear-stained lashes, your pupils blown wide and dark. he sees himself reflected there, sees the way you search his face for the same things he searches for in yours — for a thread, a grounding, anything to hold on to as he finally finds your clit and runs tight circles around it, making you keen in pleasure.

your head tips back, your body drawn taut as you come, and kageyama feels his own orgasm punch through him like a wave, crashing against the jagged edges of his crumbling desires. he groans, gasps, reaches for a breath he knows he will not find and latches onto your lips instead.

you kiss for what feels like centuries.

when you finally break apart, both of you are panting, your bodies more liquid than solid, your thoughts more breath than air. he rolls off you, pulling you into him all the closer, curling you into his chest even as you groan out something incoherent about being too sensitive, about all of this being a mess, about the sheets —

“fuck the sheets,” he murmurs into the back of your neck, unable to muster a full frown as you twist in his arms to face him, his jersey still somehow wrapped around your body, though now it resembles nothing more than very rumpled muffler, twisted around your middle.

“no, don’t fuck the sheets,” you say, crinkling your nose as you nuzzle into his chest, attempting to get comfortable without having to take the jacket off, “we don’t have time to do laundry tomorrow.”

“i could just fuck you again instead,” he says, though the sleepiness eating at his limbs says otherwise.

“do it tomorrow,” you say, your voice already drifting, and then, “i’ll pick a different jersey to wear.”

kageyama laughs, reaching down to tug the blankets up around you both, pressing a kiss into your hairline.

“do the olympic one — that ones nice.”

“why not your ali roma one?”

“cause…”

you pull back slightly to look at his face, and even in the dimness of his room, you can see the blush crawling up his cheeks.

“cause?”

you lean back in, tracing a finger along his lips even as he scowls, fully this time.

“i have a game tomorrow night and… we don’t have time to do laundry tomorrow.”

[kuroppiii]

i’m tired of bitches sleeping on yamaguchi. my man fine as hell idc idc yams is for those who get it

[lyqiche]

captain 🐈‍⬛

[yahabadabado]

SEIJOH BACK 🗣‼

Re-colored Seijoh official art.

[lysnochiv]

the nekoma third years got me tearing up in the cinema istg

[strawberrycheeks-and-glasses]

You’d Better Win

Tsukishima x f!reader | rated E 18+ | MDNI

The night before a big game, Kei likes to follow tradition. Even though he’d never admit, this superstition is the only one he believes in.

After a long day of work and training, Kei sprawls out on your shared bed in just his boxer briefs after taking a relaxing shower. He’s so long that his ankles hang off the bed and in his starfish position, his hands limply bend at the wrist over the edge.

Walking in on him, you were about to tell him that dinner was ready, but seeing him like this, so relaxed and practically naked, you can’t help stare at him.

He’s beautiful. His pale skin, pulled tight over his rippling muscles. The sweet curves of his biceps and the v of his hips invite you in for a taste.

Smirking down at his vulnerable body, you quietly stand between his feet. Watching his face relax and just barely slip into the clutches of sleep. You know you shouldn’t. You know that he’s exhausted from the day, but you can’t help it.

Slipping out of your nighty, you gently crawl between his thick muscular thighs that you love to kiss and nibble and knead, and ease your nose into the fabric of his boxer briefs. The warm, fresh from the dryer feeling, encourages you to nuzzle into him. And you hear a small whimper escape his lips as you mouth at his growing bulge.

“Poor Kei,” you coo. “So tired,” you smile into his skin just below the hem of his underwear, kissing him.

You hear him groan and watch as the fabric around his dick stretches and tents while you tease him. The sounds he makes as you drag your lips over it send a jolt of pleasure through your body and straight to your needy cunt.

“Do you like that Kei?” You muse, gaining agreeable moans from him.

He hasn’t moved an inch and is still splayed out on the bed, letting you do as you please. The sight of him above you, eyes squeezed shut, and his chest heaving as you hook your fingers into his waistband make you want him even more.

Agonizingly slow, you release his hard cock, bouncing straight up in front of your face. Long, pink and perfectly thick, you lick up the vein of his gorgeous cock. From the base of his curls to the red tip, you hum with pleasure, sending pluses through his body.

Wrapping your lips around him, you start to sink down his length, drawing out delicious sounds from him above you. Glancing up through your lashes, you see his bright golden eyes watching you take in most of his cock. Pushing the tip as far back into your throat as you can and pressing your tongue against the base.

“Fuuucckkk,” he breathes. Feeling the warmth of your mouth around him and the pressure you put on his sensitive head as you hollow your cheeks and suck him off.

Bobbing your head up and down, you make messy, lewd noises, the ones you know he likes to hear when you’ve got his dick in your mouth. Almost choking on him, trying to take him all the way in, you see he’s watching as his eyes widen at you. His face is already red and twisted up in pleasure, it’s so fucking hot how you can get him off with just your mouth.

“C’mere,” he reaches for you, grabbing at your shoulders to pull you up. “Wanna taste you,” he almost whines in a voice thick with sleep.

Crawling up his body and bracketing his head with your knees, you hover your dripping pussy over his mouth. When you feel his hands grip your thighs, you can’t help but gasp.

“Fuck, Kei,” you moan. His tongue as licks into you, sliding over your wet lips and dipping into your hot cunt.

He’s told you before that this his favorite thing to do to you, and you are always too willing to let him. The way you taste and how you quake from just his tongue makes his cock throb below. Sucking and licking exactly where you like it, he knows you won’t last long.

The pressure in the pit of your stomach builds and he can feel you starting to tense around his head. Wrapping his hand around your thigh, reaching to rub circles over your sensitive clit, your body tightens around him and just like that, you’re cumming on his face.

“Kei, you’re so fucking good at that,” you shout as he continues to rub you.

You’re sensitive and it doesn’t take much for him to push you over the edge again. His tongue swirling over your bundle of nerves, he sucks you through your second orgasm. Pulling his hair below you, as your thighs quiver around his head, you’re gasping for breath. Twitching as his name falls from your lips over and over.

“You’re supposed to be tired,” you laugh above him, his glasses crooked and splattered with your juices.

“I couldn’t help it, you know I love the way you taste,” he mumbles into your thigh, his mouth and chin slippery on your skin with your own slick.

Rolling your eyes at him, you scoot back down his waist. This was supposed to be your treat to him.

“Now that you’re awake,” you smirk down at him, reaching for his hands and placing them on your chest for him to lazily fondle. “Tell me what you want.”

His tired eyes narrow up at you, and you know, just by that look, exactly what he wants.

“That’s what you want?” You laugh at him.

He slowly nods his head, pushing himself up on the bed, to where he’s leaning comfortably on the stack of pillows behind him, almost sitting up for you to do his second favorite thing.

“Okay, but only because I fucking love you, and you know how to eat a girl out,” you say, pointedly.

Crawling off the bed, you walk over to a small section of your closet that has a row of Sendai Frog number 17 jerseys. All of which Kei has purchased for you for this exact purpose.

Taking one off the hanger, you slip it over your head. It’s too big for you, and falls just below your ass. Which makes sense because it’s actually Kei’s size.

Slowly walking back over him, you bite your lip and put on your best shy face with your signature doe eyes.

“E-excuse me?” You breathe, standing at the foot of the bed. “Mr. Tsukishima? May I please have your autograph?”

Kei smiles at your forced acting, watching you crawl up the bed. His hands fall on your hips as you sit in his lap, the fabric of his jersey pooling around your thighs.

“You were so good out there,” you exaggerate, reaching to pull on his cock between his legs. “The way you jump made me so horny,” you’re really laying it on thick, trying not to laugh. You can tell he’s also holding back.

“Shut up, and do it right,” he chuckles, hissing at the end as your thumb swipes the pre from the head of his cock.

“What? You don’t like my acting?” You tease. “Fine,” you roll your eyes and get back into character. “I know you have a big game tomorrow,” you shrug, sweetly.

“Mhmm,” Kei nods, his eyes watching you drag the hem of the jersey up your thighs, as you lift your hips to position your self over his leaking cock.

“But, I just wanted to-,” you moan as you slowly slide down his length.

Kei groans at your warmth as your pussy swallows half of him. His hands holding your hips, letting you adjust to his size before pushing you all the way down in him. Folding into him, your head falls onto his shoulder, whimpering at how deep he is inside of you.

“Wanted to wish you good luck,” you say, finishing your act as you pant in his ear.

Dragging your hands through his hair, you start to roll your hips on him, slowly fucking your boyfriend just the way he likes it, the same way you do it the night before every game. Slow and sweet, feigning innocence like first night you slept with him right before a big game. The way you grasp at him and hold him close while you buck your hips, building both of your orgasms with each soft moan you breathe, he loves this little tradition you two have made.

From the moment you nervously walked up to him and asked him to autograph the fan jersey you were wearing, to the night you first slept together, to right now with your sweet pussy grinding down on him, Kei knew he was so lucky to have you.

“Kei, I-,” you moan in his ear, rocking your hips and pressing down into him harder, forcing him deeper as you feel your third orgasm rolling through your body. Tightening around him, Kei cums with you, twitching inside of you, filling you with his load.

Relaxing into his chest, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and pressing his lips to your temple. Gently lifting you and placing you in the bed next to him, he watches as your eyes close and you drift to sleep in his arms, wearing his ugly green jersey.

The next morning you wake up to him coming in the room, back from his morning jog, to get ready for the game.

“Ready for today?” You smile, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

“Almost,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Now give it to me,” he says, holding out his hand in front of you.

Sitting up in the bed, you take off the jersey you’re wearing and hand it to him.

“You better win,” you tease, as he slides his arms and head through the shirt, wearing it for the match.

“Of course we will, I’ve got my lucky jersey on,” he winks at you.

And they do. 25-23 in the last match, all because of the silly tradition of wearing a sex stained jersey.

If you enjoyed this fic please go to my ao3 and leave kudos or read other fics I’ve written 🫶🏼

[vintageskeletons]

karasuno's #9

[artisticxlly]

I think they'd own each other's merchandise :P

[touchlikethesun]

one of my fav krtsk tropes of all time is the unfortunate accidental mixing up of the jerseys. or like (now entering my fantasy lol) kei accidentally bringing kuroo’s nekoma shirt to change into for practice instead of one of his own tshirts, and burning up with embarrassment when the rest of karasuno notices, trying to stonewall his way thru everyone’s questions of “who do you know in nekoma,” “why would they give you their shirt,” and “when did you even get that we haven’t had a practice match in ages,” etc.

yamaguchi, who is the only person on the team that already knows about krtsk’s “secret” long distance relationship (it’s only secret on one side, all of nekoma and fukurodani already know - kenma’s been sworn to secrecy and forbidden from telling shouyou), is torn between trying to help tsukki avoid answering and giggling because he told tsukki that something like this was bound to happen. hinata asking with annoying sincerity if he beat up someone from nekoma, which finally prompts kei to snap “no, it’s from kuroo, he gave it to me!”

the rest of karasuno falls silent at his outburst, and regret is only just starting trickle down kei’s neck when sugawara gasps suddenly and says “oh my god, you’re dating kuroo from nekoma” which in turn causes everyone to look back to kei who looks like he’s trying to melt into the floor and there’s an shocked pause before the gym explodes again with congratulations from the second and third years (who honestly are just so relieved that tsukishima has found someone that can match his energy they were worried) and increasingly incredulous but earnest questioning from kageyama and hinata of “how??? how????” (they are also like, happy for tsukishima, but… how????)

yamaguchi texts kuroo at some point during the hullabaloo to tell him what happened and prepare him for tsukki’s inevitable mood on their nightly skype call.

[hajioiks]

THIS IS SO FUNNY CUZ WHY DOES OSAMU VIEW ATSUMU LIKE THAT, IT'S BASICALLY A COPY OF OIKAWA ON A DAILY BASIS???? 😭😭

AND ATSUMU DOESNT EVEN ACT LIKE THIS USUALLY LMAOO

LOOK AT TSUMU'S FACE HE LOOKS SO PROUD OF HIMSELF FOR COMING UP WITH THAT IMPERSONATING MY BROTHER THING 🤣

ALSO HIM IMPERSONATING SAMU BUT IT'S LITERALLY ATSUMU BEING HIMSELF??

(it's just you bro)

[karlyboyyy]

Ok yeah this is definitely a great game and all but I am absolutely LIVING for the lady in the crowd wearing the kagehina manga panel shirt that the camera keeps focusing on 😭🙌🏻

AND they played FLY HIGH!! again 🖤