#nsfhq

[samwrights]

Ooop, this one stumbled into my main inbox. So if you requested this one, you won’t get a notification that it’s been answered cause it’s going to be left unanswered. But uh anyways. 😎😎😎

Warnings: squirting, overstimulation, uh. Anal play.

Kenma;

Literally thinks you’re broken the first time it happens.

Especially by the way you’re screaming and crying and writhing like you’re in pain, he wants to stop.

But you’re begging him to keep going until your orgasm literally soaks his entire hand.

“Holy shit, do that again.” Poor, tomato faced Kenma. He can’t imagine it feels that good, but it makes you happy, soooo

In the rare moments that the two of you are intimate, he does make it a point to try to get you to squirt.

To the point Kenma has figured out all the right buttons to push and can get you to do it every. Single. Time.

Even to the point where your sheets are a complete and utter mess.

He’s quite proud of himself.

If Kenma is feeling especially giving, he edges himself by pounding the daylights out of you until you’re sobbing

Before pulling out of you and replacing his cock with three fingers and jamming them to push on your g-spot while his other hand attacking your clit with breakneck speed.

The minute you’re releasing all over him—lather, rinse, and repeat until you’re literally numb from over stimulation.

At some point he doesn’t even care if he cums (ok he does but), he’d rather see you bawling from how fucking good he’s making you feel.

Lev;

I’mma say this rn.

Lev’s got a monster cock.

To point where no matter how wet you are, that shit’s gonna hurt in the best way possible going in.

And every time, without fail, he slips in and s l o w l y stretches out your walls, the ridges and veins in his cock just dig into your pressure points

Annnnd ya squirt around his cock. Just a lil bit.

But Lev is all for cause not only are you squeezing his dick like a vice but the extra lubrication grants him the mobility to fuck you into the mattress

Or the floor

The wall

The washing machine

The kitchen counter

Lev will literally fuck you on any and every surface he can cause goddamn

Does prefer a place where you’re not on an absorbing surfacing—beds, carpets, etc.

Just so he can literally fuck every fluid out of your body without having to stress over clean up.

It’s not difficult; you’re sensitive and Lev just hits all the right notes without even really trying.

Kuroo;

This sloppy mother fucker.

You two are not done screwing until you have literally squirted all over Kuroo’s face, hands, and cock.

It is the single most hottest thing to him to have his nose right at your clit with his tongue lapping at your labia and he’s got two fingers ramming themselves in your pussy, digging for gold.

Sometimes a little extra help with his pinky in your ass, depending on your mood and preference.

The combination of his fingers hitting your g-spot and his teeth and tongue alternating between torturing your clit gets you off every time.

When he’s finally quenched his thirst, Kuroo is absolutely relentless.

He wants to see you gush over him like a geyser and he will do everything in his power at the moment to contribute to the mess he strives for on his sheets.

His favorite position thus far is fucking you from behind, nearly folded in have while he slams into you a few times before pulling out and giving your cunt the same finger/mouth combo that he did just moments ago.

Kuroo also doesn’t care how long it takes for him to get off—he wants his sheets soaked and you covered in cum and that’s it.

[samwrights]

Hi! Could I request for Tsuki, Hinata, Noya, and Kuroo’s reactions in headcannons to them and their s/o kissing, but their (normally shy) s/o straddles their waist and deepens the kiss and kisses them in j u s t the right way and maybe just a little bit of nsfw action but not too much? Ty🥺

Maybe? Just? A little? Nsfw? Oop. Ok ok jk I’ll go easy. Happy no filter Friday!

Tsukishima;

Tsukki is not down for having the tables turned on him.

Since when are you strong enough to throw him off of you??

And where did you find the audacity to just climb in his lap like that??

“You’re feeling bold tonight,” it wasn’t supposed to come out as teasing

But Tsukki’s hardening cock betrays him as well as the lust in his voice

Your lips tentatively kiss away from his lips, dancing along his jaw as your fingertips gingerly take off his glasses and place them on the end table beside the couch.

It was necessary for the glasses to come off

Because Tsukki’s weak spot is behind his ear

Tongue and teeth travel along his flesh until they settle at the thin skin, nibbling and coercing salacious moans from your boyfriend.

Gentle love bites + laving it with your tongue ends him, his hands that once held your hips loosely were furiously unbuckling his belt.

“Feeling rather bold myself,” he moans out, hastily pulling off his bottoms before fingering the neckline of your shirt

And ripping it off, the sound of tearing cloth filling the apartment and the breeze chilling your skin.

“Kei!” You whined, pulling away from the bane of his existence while trying to cover yourself.

“You knew you what you were doing.”

Hinata;

Hinata is all about sweet soft kisses

And normally you were too.

But there was just something about the way his hand was holding your cheek like hand blown glass

His lips gingerly slatted along your own as the loving gesture filled your body with his usual warmth and sunshine.

You wanted to share that warmth, wanted Shōyō to feel the love you felt for him, that he constantly filled you with

Adjusting yourself slightly while keeping the connection, you press Hinata further into the sofa until his back is resting on the cushion

Until you’re straddling his waist

You can literally feel the heat rising to his cheeks as your lips are still connected with his

Like your nerve endings are still somehow connected despite not touching

“Shōyō~” you sing as you pull away, grinding your hips into his

Your lips are ghosting over his own, knowing that the breathy moans leaving his are his sign of weakness

“Y-yeah?” He was unsure of how to react—you never initiated sex.

But goddamn this was hot

“Lemme show you how much I love you.” You whine out, grinding even harder into him to fully awaken the tiny giant.

You lips latched onto his collarbone, a strangled groan rumbling in his chest.

“What are you waiting for then?”

Noya;

Noya doesn’t know how or when you ended up in his lap

Or when you got his jeans off

He also doesn’t know where to focus—on the burning blush creeping up your cheeks as you shed your shy skin

Or the fact that your drenched underwear was grinding against his cock.

Definitely the latter.

“What has gotten into you, baby? Not that I’m complaining—“

Before answering, your fingertips played with the hem of his shirt, hastily pulling the fabric from his toned body

As soon as he’s freed, your tongue traced along one of his dusty pink nipples

“Aw, fuck baby!”

Nishinoya throws his head back, resting along the cushion of the sofa while your tongue laved along the hardening nub.

His calloused hands anchor at your waist with a bruising grip as his coveted cock judges against your dripping heat.

“Just wanna show you how much I appreciate you,” you mumble as you switch nipples, welcoming his hushed thrusts.

“I can’t take the teasing tonight, babe. I gotta have you now.”

Kuroo;

It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for you and Kuroo to spend Friday’s nights making out on your couch.

But normally, you were sandwiched between him and the couch while he absolutely ravaged you

However, Kuroo found himself nestled underneath your straddle while your fingers weaved in his messy bed head

Pulling at the locks and tilting his head back while your tongues fought for dominance

His arms were anchored securely around your waist, pulling your body as close to his as possible.

For a moment, you pull away from your lip lock to slink out of your thin tee, all the while Kuroo is flaunting his salacious grin loud and proud.

“What’s gotten into you, princess? Ya that needy tonight?”

You give a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your bare chest. “Shut up, Tetsu.”

“Why don’t you make me, princess?”

Accepting the challenge, you resumed the previous position, pulling and tipping his head back as your lips hovered over his.

You weren’t entirely sure if Kuroo liked the rough treatment, considering this was more of his go to for you.

But by the way he’s stretching his neck up in yearning and need to meet your lips, you’d think you hit the nail on the head.

Or rather by the way his dick was hardening against his jeans, the material pressing into your lower half.

Something was getting nailed tonight.

[samwrights]

Also (I did another ask so you can take your time) something nsfw with Iwa? Like you’re really close to Oikawa and he basically try to get you a boyfriend but every date is terrible to the point that one night you said to Iwa that you’re not “good looking” enough for someone to stay and then BAM he’s in the mood “Iwa praising you” 👀👀👀

Let’s just change No Filter Friday to Fuck Iwaizumi Friday

Warning: consumption of alcohol, language, praising, groping, slight dub-con (?)

“Dude, I am so fucking sick of this shit.” You snarl, barging into the shared apartment of Oikawa Tōru and Iwaizumi Hajime. Not necessarily an estranged occurrence, considering you and Oikawa were best friends. Even more so than the aforementioned roommates. The latter is sitting on their couch, perking up a little when you slam the weighted front door to the apartment. “Where the fuck is shittykawa?”

“Uh, he went out?” Iwaizumi flicks the television to pause the show he’s watching before peeling himself off the couch. For a moment, the ace stands still, watching you pace around his apartment tugging at your own hair while each step is accompanied the clomping of your heels against the hardwood. “What did he do now?”

“He keeps setting me up on these bunk ass blind dates and they all turn out to be fucking dicks!” Without permission or prompting, you all but stomp over towards their stainless steel fridge, grabbing the first beer bottle you set your sights on. Looking at the label, you scoffed. What college kid, athletes no less, stocked their fridge with heavy beers such as stouts?

Whatever, alcohol is alcohol.

Unceremoniously, you crack off the cap before pulling the the bulbous opening to your lips and taking rapid, unyielding glugs of the syrupy ale. Slamming the now half empty bottle on the granite counter, you wipe the residue, along with your nude inner lipstick off the back of your hand. “Who’d he set you up with this time? It was supposed to be Miya Atsumu tonight, right?”

“Yes,” you seethe, “he basically said that Tōru was wasting his time trying to find someone stupid enough to date me.” The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. While it wasn’t what Atsumu said verbatim, he may as well have. To be more accurate, he more so said that Tōru was never going to find anyone that met your standards and the whole blind date thing was just wasted efforts.

“You know that’s not true, [name].” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, arms still folded over his broad chest as he slinks into the kitchen beside you as down the rest of the stout and fiend for another bottle. He made a mental note to bill you later.

“At this rate, maybe he’s got a point. Maybe I expect way too much for an ugly bitch.” You let out a laugh before allowing the tiny bubbles of the alcohol to fill your throat instead.

“Oh come on,” he groans, rolling his olive eyes in addition to his whole head, “you know you’re hot—don’t start that whole act.” The words leave his lips so nonchalantly, so uncaring even, making you choke on the liquid until the brown ale is sputtering out of your mouth.

“E-excuse me?” In response, Iwaizumi just quirks a brow once again in confusion. Did he not realize what he just said or...?

“What?”

“Iwaizumi Hajime, did you just call me hot?” Oh. Did you not know that? What an insane concept.

“Yeah? That’s a known fact?” Huh. That was news to you. Why was he acting so casual about of it? Judging the look on your face, Iwaizumi realizes you’re entirely unaware of this little campus-wide fact. “[name], why do you think Oikawa carries a list of people that are dying to date you?”

Huh? “What? N-no, t-that’s not—“

“Oikawa hasn’t been setting you up, he’s been setting them up with you because they all beg him for a chance with you.”

Then there’s silence. A long, awkward silence that can’t even be tampered off with you languidly sipping at the stolen stout. “I’m still waiting for you to say psyche,” you admit. The ace groans, rolling his eyes again before snatching one of your wrists and dragging you back to the foyer. The two of you are standing in front of the large, entryway mirror with Iwaizumi standing behind you and the two of you locking eyes in the mirror.

“You’re the one girl on campus that nobody can touch,” he starts off slowly, pulling your hair away from where it had fallen over your shoulders so that your locks didn’t obstruct his view. “Of course, the first thing everyone notices is your face. Specifically, your lips.” As he speaks, he plants one hand at your waist, the other coming to have his digits ghost over your full, plump lips, still covered in lipstick despite you trying to remove the dry residue earlier.

“W-what are you—“

“Personally, I really like your collarbones.” Iwaizumi interrupts, tracing his fingers along the taut flesh before cupping one of your breasts over the velvet black crop top you were wearing. “Surprised you went with a push up bra, today. You don’t need it.” Your face burns beet red as he gives said tit a reassuring squeeze before stepping closer and pulling your back flush against his broad chest.

Iwaizumi leans closer, eye contact remaining through the mirror as his heady breaths fan out over your neck. His hand drags down roughly from your breast, down your stomach before grabbing your ass over your dark washed denim. “You really don’t feel everyone staring at your ass everyday? Or wonder why I walk behind you and Oikawa on the way to class?”

“I thought you didn’t like being around the both of us.”

“Nah, I just wanted to look at your butt.” Iwaizumi’s hand gives your behind one more squeeze in addition to his lips anchoring themselves at the base of your neck. But something isn’t making sense to you, even through the cloudy haze of lust washing over you as he gropes.

“Y-you said everyone’s been asking Oikawa to set them up with me, so what about you?” A snort leaves his nostrils, accompanied with laughter rumbling in his throat and it doesn’t go over your head that you can feel him. You can feel the vibration of his skin against yours as he suckles on your neck, marking his newfound territory, no doubt. You feel the shaking of his chest as he’s pressed against your clothed back. You can feel his hardening erection through his jeans, threatening to break through the zipper as it presses into your lower back—you can feel all of him with only thin clothing acting as a barrier.

“Oikawa said I wasn’t allowed to even try. Something about being the third wheel,” he mumbles, traveling to the other side of your neck. This time his attention is significantly less as he takes the hand anchored at your waist to pull your chin towards him, eye contact solidifying in real time rather than being held together through a mirror. “I really wanna kiss you.”

“So do it.” And that’s all he needs. All the permission he needed before allowing his mouth to all but swallow your own, his tongue ravaging the inside of your cavern and unleashing years of pent up desire and depravity. You turn on your heel, pushing yourself to be chest to chest with Iwaizumi, draping your arms over him to clutch at the fabric of his shirt covering his torso.

Iwaizumi presses harder into you, forcing you to stumble into the mirror as his tongue massages the roof of his mouth. His large hands, no longer satisfied with feeling fabric in them, start stripping you of your shirt and bra hastily before throwing them onto the floor. “So fucking pretty, baby.” The ace mumbles, olive green eyes locked with yours as he takes one nipple into his mouth. “I’ve fantasized about this every day for years.” A moan escapes your lungs, though you’re unsure if the admission is the cause or the ministrations themselves.

“I-Iwa...”

“Don’t wanna fantasize anymore,” he drawls, tongue swirling around the pebble of your hardened nipple, “lemme fuck your pretty pussy, baby. Wanna feel you nice and tight around my dick.” Your hands frantically clutch at the back of his shirt, shedding the fabric hastily before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down along with his boxers.

Iwaizumi Hajime has a pretty cock. Who knew? It’s a beautiful amalgam of olive toned skin blushed bright red, weeping precum and screaming for relief.

Despite the minimal preparatory work, Iwaizumi learns that you’re absolutely soaked as he peels your underwear off and plunges his cock in with no preamble because Jesus Christ, he needs to stuff his length as far in as he can possibly go. “Holy shit,” he drawls.

For just a moment, the two of you are still, save for the way your chests are rising and falling rapidly as you both try to catch your breath. Iwaizumi is grinning, canines poking out as he grins, and despite the events that lead to his dick being buried inside you, there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes the dusty olive hue seem to shine like peridots. As he finally feels oxygen returning to his brain and settling the dizziness that overwhelms him, he lets out a soft laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” but you know by his tone there’s more to it than just nothing, “never thought I’d get to say I’m the one fucking the sexiest girl on campus.” By the way the walls of your warmth momentarily clench around his length before relaxing again, Iwa knew he’d done something right. Apparently the praise was going straight from your ears to your pussy. “So fucking tight, too.” He adds, moving his hips slightly to allow the weight of his dick to pressure your nerves. The slow movements in addition to his lips that were now latched onto your collarbones made you dizzy, made you want to scream. “Lemme hear your voice, baby,”

If that was supposed to be a warning, the warning did little to prepare you for the intensity of his hips bucking into yours rapidly and ferociously. Thank god or whoever was up there that Iwaizumi was holding you in place because surely you would have slid to the ground with the way your feet were nearly dangling above the floor. On every withdrawal of his cock, a breathy whine leaves your lips, wordlessly begging and crying for more. “Be a good girl and wrap your legs around me, ‘kay?” The ace manages out between his own pants. You could only oblige.

The slightest shift allows the curve of his dick to nuzzle and nestle along your g-spot ever so slightly, teasingly coaxing your walls to tighten to prolong the feeling of Iwaizumi filling you whole. The entire time, the only sounds leaving your lips are broken sobs of the name of the man fucking you while he is spewing every filthy thought that came to mind. “You feel so fucking good around me, baby.”

“Want you to cum in me,” you mumble, nestling your face into Iwaizumi’s shoulder while laying limp in his control.

“Yeah, gonna take my cum like a good girl?” In response, you could only nod because words were just not a thing right now. “I asked you a question, baby girl.”

“Yes!” You cry out, unaware of the sound of the locks turning not even three feet from the two of your entangled bodies as Oikawa opens the door to the apartment.

“Iwa, I’m—oh what the fuck guys.”

[samwrights]

Yo , can I have a kyotani kentaro nsfw thanks

OH HELL YEAH~

Warnings; praise, soft sex, shower oral, no actual penetration.

Contrary to what many people thought of Kyoutani Kentarou back in high school, he was a good partner to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stayed with him for as long as you had. Five years later, with your guys’ third year at Aoba Johsai High School as the starting point, the two of you were still going strong. Sure, Mad Dog was and is rough around the edges, but that doesn’t make him any less suitable as a partner. If anything, that made him more perfect in your eyes. Perhaps it was because you knew him better than anyone else and knew his subtle tells of when he was frustrated with himself versus someone else.

Kyoutani is more vocal when he’s frustrated with someone else—even if that someone is you—he has no problem slamming everything they did to piss him off. But when he was upset with himself, he’s more quiet than normal. He won’t look you in the eye the moment he walks in the door and he certainly won’t receive the kiss you try to greet him with. Instead, he turns his cheek and grumpily stuffs whatever he’s carrying into the foyer closet.

“What’s eatin’ at ya, babe?” You asked as he angrily kicks off his sneakers and stuffs them into the aforementioned closet. His eyes are downcast and he’s focused more on the grains of the hardwood flooring than your slightly worried expression. Apparently he’d gone off to the gym to get some volleyball practice in and work off frustrations, but his typical tactics hadn’t seemed to work. Instead, Kyoutani skulks off to your en-suite, presumably to take a shower as he always did, walking straight past the meal you had laid out for the two of you on the dining room table. A sigh leaves your lips before you move to cover up the food. It seemed that dinner would have to wait because whatever the hell is eating at Kentarou is bad.

After covering up and placing everything in the fridge, you tip-toe your way towards the running water, cautiously shedding off your own clothes before peeling back the curtain enough for you to face your boyfriend’s back. Much to your surprise, he isn’t vigorously scrubbing at his skin or harshly lathering shampoo into his bleached locks. Kyoutani is just standing there, head down with a hand clenched in a fist against the tile wall as water cascades down his sopping locks. “Baby,” you call out cautiously, gingerly pressing the pads of your fingers into the space between his shoulder blades, “talk to me.”

At first, he remains quiet. Not that you expected anything different from Kyoutani Kentarou. But he withdraws his fist from the tile as he stands at his full height, head tilted towards you with his eyes closed in an almost pained squint. “Are you...happy? With me?” His eyes remain closed.

“Kentarou...” Rarely did you ever call him by his first name, despite being together for half a decade. If anything, you loved calling him KyouKen even though he hated it. You loved his last name as well, hoping maybe one day it would be yours too. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Who the hell put the idea in your head that I wasn’t?”

“Nobody,” he snaps vehemently, though quickly realizing that only made his case sound worse. “Just—ugh—I went to go practice with Yahaba and—“

“He asked why I was still with you, didn’t he?” It shouldn’t have surprised him, or you for that matter, that you knew instantly what was bothering him. But his honey gold eyes open in shock, in weariness, and in almost pain.

He’d never felt like he deserved you. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

“KyouKen, I love you.” You remind him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. “I will always love you.”

“Why?” A sigh escapes your lips before you move your hands to cup his cheeks, pulling him down for a fervent kiss. The motion allows the water to mist over your head, letting droplets drip down your forehead. Shamelessly, your tongue laves at the skin of his dry lips before prying them apart and exploring his mouth. Reluctantly, Kyoutani wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your chests are flush against each other.

“Kentarou, I don’t need you to be the perfect boyfriend. I need you to be you.”

“Why?” He asks again.

“You’re passionate,” your lips attach themselves into his collarbones that are, thankfully, at eye level with you. It’s comfortable, you notice, as your hands trail down to rest them on his beefy chest. But you don’t linger for long—your man has a wounded ego. You’d be damned if you stopped at one simple compliment.

“Driven and motivating,” each of these words were punctuated by a single, tantalizing suck of each of his nipples before your lips made their way down his abs. All the while, Kyoutani watches in both wonder and in earnest, listening carefully to your reasoning because he needs it.

“Strong,” your voice barely comes out as a rumble as you kiss his navel. What does come out are words dripping with desire because goddamn it, even kissing his trembling muscles that are held together with tanned skin turns you on. It turns him on just as much, you muse, as your face to face with his erect cock.

“And down right sexy,” Kyoutani lets out an audible groan, thick fingers immediately threading in your hair as your lips wrap around his length. Maybe it’s out of a need to prove you love him, maybe it’s because you’re undeniably turned on, or maybe it’s just because you love sucking his dick, but all stops have been pulled as you swallow his length.

“Fuck,” he hisses when your lips meet with his pelvis, “love you so much,” the blonde mumbles out as you start bobbing up and down his length like a woman starved. Normally Kyoutani would be rough, telling you to take all of his cock until you couldn’t breathe or spanking you until your ass was bright red. Today was not normal. Today, Kyoutani needed love and reassurance and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it to him.

“Love you too, sugarplum.” You tease when you finally pull away. Though not entirely, as evident by your hand still holding onto his dick while giving kitten licks around the head. “Let me show you how much.”

[samwrights]

Between the Lines, pt II

Here is part two to @anianimol ‘s Ukai Breeding Kink request—literally 70% of this particular portion is smut. Please proceed with caution if you are uncomfortable with the following:

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

“I could make it worse.” Ukai Keishin did not like the sound of that in the slightest. He was already going well over the speed limit on the freeway and praying to the gods above that he wouldn’t get pulled over and—

The widespread panic that was bleeding into his veins stopped entirely when he feels the button to his jeans being freed.

“Are you insane?!” The blonde snarls, though he cannot deny the fact that his lust is now at full speed ahead with a brick on the gas pedal. [name] says nothing in response—only teases him further by unzipping his pants and running her fingernails over his boxer-clad half-hard cock while he’s fighting to focus on getting back home. Keishin squeezes the steering wheel with both hands tightly, the skin over his knuckles turning white as she frees his length only to re-capture it in her mouth. The warmth welcomes him entirely, sweetly, and it’s sending his mind into a lust-laden frenzy.

As soon as the two of them exit the freeway, they’re stopped at a light. Ukai takes the opportunity to adjust his jeans to give [name] more room to work because there was absolutely no fighting this now. Not with the way her hand is wrapped around the base of cock just to hold it upright while she swallows the entirety of his length and girth. At this point, she’s literally praising it, worshipping even, with her attentive tongue; lapping at every centimeter of skin, laving at the prominent veins, suckling on the tip to coerce his pre-cum.

“Ah, fuck,” Ukai hisses when his tip hits the back of her throat. They were almost back to his apartment above the Sakanoshita store—he could hold on for just five more minutes. He hoped. Though it was proving difficult with pleased gargles rumbling in her throat as she repeatedly swallowed every goddamn inch of his dick. Keishin can’t help but breathe heavy, trying to make sure he’s keeping oxygen going to his brain because fuck he can’t think straight right now. Not with the way this angelic creature had been taking him whole. It’s taking everything in him to not thrust his hips to meet with her lips, because he knows once he starts, he’s going to accidentally end up slamming on the gas pedal. Literally. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good thing I’m thirsty,” [name] responds, hardly missing a beat as she pulls away briefly to supply her sassy remark. Immediately returning to the task at hand, she relaxes her throat walls to relentlessly swallow every single inch until her face is pressing into his stomach and she chokes down his seed. For some reason, it doesn’t surprise him in the slightest when she greedily swallows every drop while simultaneously coercing the rest from his tip. It does funny things to Keishin, seeing this beautiful ray of sunlight so hungry, so desperate for him, and it turns on all the switches to his filthiest desires.

“Open your mouth princess,” he croons, affectionately rubbing at her messy locks, “I wanna make sure you swallowed all of it.” [name] sticks out her puffy tongue, saying ‘ahh’ for emphasis, while he looks down for a hasty inspection. “Good girl,” he offers almost endearingly when she passes.

The second he pulls in to his drive way, Ukai threads his calloused fingers into her locks and pulls her lips desperately to his to taste the mix of them on her tongue. Despite the unsavory act, he gives her an enthusiastic kiss with one hand cupping her cheek and constant back and forth spit swapping because, damn it all, she made him feel things he thought long died. Desperation, depravity, desire—all of those feelings were reignited in Ukai and it was all her fault. But he doesn’t care that there’s more than sexual tension in their motions—he wants it that way. Their kiss rather sweet, loving even, as if to tell her this was more than lust and that he hoped [name] felt that too.

Or as if to act as a premature apology for the things he was going to do to her.

The week of unintentional teasing certainly served its purpose, [name] mused somewhere between the lines. It had worked out better than she’d ever dreamed of, and those were often recurring wet dreams, no less.

She had always pictured Keishin to be a rough lover but she’d never expected him to be as filthy as this. The bare man behind her had her face pressing into a pillow as he rammed into her sensitive hole, unabashedly howling his own salacious fantasies. There was not a single curse word in any collective lexicon that hadn’t left his mouth tonight and goddammit it was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

“Oh, fuck yeah, you’re taking me so well kid,” he grits out, giving a particularly hard thrust because he wants to keep hearing her scream every time his dick drags along her walls, “this everything you’ve been dreaming about, kid? Been dreaming about my fucking cock stuffing your pussy?”

The dirty talk sends electrical pulses from her ears down [name]’s spine—who knew that words alone could bring her so close to orgasm? But she can’t find words of her own at the moment. The only comprehensible sounds coming to her mind are throaty moans and pants and weak screams as Keishin grabs her by the wrists to force her hips to meet with his. But it’s not enough that he’s all but reaming her, no. He yanks her back even further until her chest is sticking out and her head is thrown back unintentionally to look up at him as he pounds her.

She’s beautiful, he muses internally, even with her eyes nearly shut in depravity and drool running down the corner of her mouth and repeated, mindless babble of approval of the way he was fucking her. She was so goddamn beautiful and he was going to make her his in every sense of the word.

Overwhelmed with the sight, Keishin adjusts his grip so that one of his hands holds her in place while the other cups her jaw and gingerly brings her closer to kiss her.

He loves kissing her, he learned rather quickly.

Even the smallest shift in their position cause Ukai to prod at different spot within her core, forcing [name] to clamp down on his length. “Ooh, right there, baby?” But she can only nod when he makes it a point to make sure he’s hitting that same area over and over. “Yeah? You’re squeezing me so fucking hard, you’re gonna make me cum. You want my cum, princess?”

Good god, [name] could just listen to him talk and she could get off.

She can’t help her clenching core, not with the way Keishin is smacking his hips into hers like a piston or the way his cock starts twitching as he falls over the dam of his own orgasm. “Oh fuck yeah, princess. Take my cum like a good girl, baby, fuck.” His words stifle and give way to his labored breathing until he physically can’t even let out a sound—a telltale sign that he should probably slow down before he passes out.

[name] collapses chest down onto the bed as soon as Ukai lets go of her wrists; her back rising and falling as she attempts to catch her own breath. Ukai is doing much of the same, though he’s sitting on his haunches while staring out the window as the morning sun filters in. What time was it anyway?

As soon as he feels like his legs aren’t numb anymore, he hovers over the side of the bed in search of his cell phone before moving to rest his back against his headboard—it was only seven right now, meaning the store wouldn’t open for another two hours. Momentarily Ukai is grateful it’s as early as it is because that means his mother wasn’t downstairs listening to him essentially impregnate someone. But even more so, he’s grateful to see the way the rising sun reflects the sheen of sweat on [name]’s back. It made her glow even more than the glitter she wore on her cheeks when she was out for the night or disco lights shining off her pearly whites.

She’s so fucking beautiful, he thinks again, and he doesn’t realize he’s staring at her until he deciphers the [eye color]ed orbs staring back at him. A part of her wants to say something, probably the reason she was opening and closing her mouth, but words just don’t come out. What would she even say if she had a voice right now? She can’t say she loves him because that’s just weird and too clingy, nor can she say thank you because that’s even weirder—

“C’mere.” Ukai murmurs softly, patting at his bare chest. [name] quirks a brow, which prompts the former to give a roll of his honey brown eyes, before reaching for one of her wrists and hoisting her up to rest on him. When her head nestles along his collar bone, he wraps one arm tightly around her waist and presses a chaste kiss into her sweaty hair. It’s a delicate, wholesome moment that Ukai thought he’d never get the chance to share with anyone for awhile, let alone with a club patron or an ex of one of his club members.

It’s a tender, loving moment in which he takes advantage of the opportunity to ask the questions that had been gnawing at him for the last several days.

“Cardboard Swords,” he says as gently and as firmly as he’s holding her.

“Huh?”

“I wanted to ask you earlier, but it kinda didn’t seem appropriate at the time.” It’s not a full question by any means, but she understands the syntax well enough.

“And you think after emptying a second load in me is more appropriate?” She jokes, causing the man that’s holding her to groan because he knows. He doesn’t fall for bullshit and he knows that question was just [name] deflecting. “Fine, fine. Um, Flannel was mine and Suga’s break up song. I figured you could tell that much.” She concedes temporarily, shifting uncomfortably in his arms. Why does he even want to know this, she wonders. But she remembers clear as day him asking what Sugawara did to make her be the dull person she was back in high school, versus the firecracker on the Fourth of July that she was now. She figured she at least owed him some form of reprieve considering he satiated her high school and current fantasies.

Well, one of them anyway.

And while she remained quiet, Keishin’s analytical mind is hard at work recounting the memory of her lips moving along to every line. The thing that the DJ loves the most about music is that he can tell when a beat or a line hits close to home by how loud their expression is. His mind starts piecing things together based off of context and evidence and [name] can tell by the way his breathing begins to quicken that he just might be onto something.

“It’s fine. We went our separate ways after graduating. He did his thing, I did my thing.” She says to quell his steadily rising anxiety. Though she was unsure why it was beginning to crest, considering he hadn’t vocalized his personal deductions. Part of her wondered if he got it right, part of her doesn’t even care because Sugawara doesn’t matter to her anymore.

“And your thing is hanging out at a dingy club every night?”

“Hey, don’t call my aunt’s club dingy.”

“Your what?! Family friend, my ass!” This girl was going to be the death of him, he decides. Because now it made so much more sense of how she vaguely knew of his schedule (not that it was necessarily damning evidence), or why she was there in the first place and as often, or why she knew where Bevelle lived off the back of her hand. But shit, that just means he slept with his boss’s niece who is eight years his junior and—

“Dude, relax,” [name] stresses the command, pinching the nipple closest to her to pull Ukai from his reverie. “How do you think you got the job in the first place, coach? Though, aunt ‘Velle only showed me your application—she made the initial decision to offer you the job. I didn’t realize it was you that took the name Spira.” His mind is piecing more things together and he’s starting to learn to hate that his mind does that.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Hey, I didn’t know you were gonna fuck me—“ Ukai lets out a noise, a hybrid noise between annoyance and embarrassment before rolling over to trap [name] between his bed and himself. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, doesn’t want to think about it because the more he does, the deeper hole he digs for himself.

“I’d do it again, too. If you’ll let me.” Regardless of the strange sense of shame and irritation he felt, Keishin’s voice came out rather soft. Probably because he knew were it not for [name]’s meddling and the string of circumstances, she wouldn’t be here with him right now. In a weird sense, he’s grateful—grateful for the way she answers with her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him flush against her, bringing his lips to hers once again.

“Will you, though?” She asks after they break for a breather. [name] can’t help the question from leaving her lungs as much as she doesn’t want to think about what comes after this. And Keishin understands the query that’s hidden in between the lines and he’s unsure if he’s ready to verbalize his answer. So rather than putting it into words, his lips cover hers once again.

It’s much sweeter than the others—it’s gingerly and warm, softer than powdered sugar, and for a moment the two of them are enveloped in their moment together. But it’s not enough for Ukai, not in the slightest. Not with the way he’s overwhelmed with the need to chase this profound sense of urgency to stake his claim.

It’s not enough even with his mouth meandering further down her jaw and her neck, leaving little bites and bruises in his wake. It’s not enough in the way his tongue parts her labia and massages the inner walls of her core or suckles down her clit until she’s screaming once again. It’s not enough even when he slides his dick in one more time and is welcomed with the warmth of home.

Ukai is torn with the dichotomy of wanting to be rough with [name], wanting to smack his hips and drive his cock far enough in her that she has bruises around her opening and on her uterus, and absolutely letting every truth fly off his tongue. But his body decides for him in the way he lurches over her bucking body, one hand cradling her jaw with his thumb brushing over her bruised lips.

“Keishin...” [name] calls out in a strangled song, “h-harder, please!”

Her cries break his final thread of sanity.

“Yeah, you want more princess?” He grits out. His free hand traces patterns down her stomach before honing in on her clit, frantically circling at the bundle of nerves and driving his length in her cunt to match. [name] gave an innate squeeze at the sudden added stimulation, ready for her orgasm to wash over her once again. “You’re squeezing me so fucking good, baby. You want my cum?”

“P-please, cum inside me.” The subtle pleas shred every fiber of his control. Keishin releases his grip on both her clit and her jaw, hands scooping under her hips to angle her upward to find her pressure point once again. Leave it to this guy to be able to find it with ease after only one trial run. “Oh fuck, Keishin!”

“Fuck yes, baby, you want my cum? Want me to fill you up again? You’re just begging me to fuck a baby into you, aren’t you?” [name] clenched with a death grip, her subconscious going into overload. She’d never admit out loud that she’d fantasized about marrying the DJ and having a family with him maybe once or twice. Or every other week. She’d take that secret to the grave.

And while Keishin didn’t necessarily mean for his words to come out the way they did, he found himself unbothered by it all. Because he wants to know more, wants to have more than this one night with [name]. It only made it a thousand times better knowing she was getting off to his private kink, swallowing his cock whole to coax his seed to spill. “Aw, fuck yeah, gonna breed you like my own little whore,” he grits out, hips stuttering as his dick twitches, spurting his cum within her walls once again.

“Fuck a baby into me, huh?” [name] laughs after Keishin collapses on top of her, panting heavily to catch his breath.

“Sorry, was that too much?” She only laughs once more in response.

“Nah, that was perfect.”

Perfect was the only way to describe the way Keishin felt about [name], even a year later after their first night together. Sex aside, because that was perfection in its own right, the relationship that had bloomed between the two of them was everything the coach had been waiting for. The envy he had once felt for his fellow DJs for seizing the opportunity to sleep with other club patrons had subsided entirely considering Ukai had gotten the creme de la creme.

[name] now owned the club.

Bevelle, her aunt and the woman that initially hired Keishin a few years back, had been prepping and grooming [name] since she graduated high school to take over her business so that Bevelle could move on to new ventures. The night she started learning the ins and outs of running the club was the very same night Ukai had come in as a guest with the neighborhood association.

Apparently offering him a job was supposed to be a joke, but Bevelle knew something was strange with the way her niece was hyper-fixated on the blonde volleyball coach. Nobody knew things were going to turn out as well as they did.

Ukai finally stopped tending to the farm after five years of dedication and, instead, began helping [name] at the club on nights he wasn’t Spira. It was a weird sense of pride that surged within his center to know that the two of them both had their own businesses and both were relatively successful—it made Ukai feel powerful.

Like it wasn’t entirely wrong that the two of them were together despite the eight year gap.

And, in their world, it wasn’t. [name], while she rarely showed it, suffered a lot of heartbreak during and after her relationship with Sugawara Koushi—one that left her with a lot of metaphorical scars that mentally aged her by at least five years. It took years for her to heal, to feel content in her solidarity, and that aged her even more. In a sense, however, these also drove her ambition to be successful, her true, fun-loving self, and to share the love she wished she had received back then.

It took a few months for Keishin to unearth just how badly Suga had hurt her. After hearing how manipulative he was of her and everyone around her, it was no wonder she made it a point to love loudly and overtly—something Ukai seemed to thrive off of. While their relationship may have appeared strange to those on the outside looking in, it was nobody’s business but theirs.

It was even more peculiar from an outsider perspective considering the couple had just welcomed their son barely three months ago. “You literally fucked a baby into me!” [name] had been a cross between flustered, angry, and overjoyed when she found out of her pregnancy. Keishin’s mind was a mile a minute when she told him, but he couldn’t deny the sense of pride and lust and desire he felt.

If anything, it only made those feelings worse—like he wanted to do it again and again because goddamn it, it meant that [name] was entirely his, carrying their baby and all. But she knew her partner well enough to know when Keishin got that dangerous, nearly predatory, glint in his honey brown eyes, he was aiming for kid number two. “Thank god I’m on birth control.” She often mutters between catching her breath whenever the mood struck the volleyball coach.

“So you don’t mind if I keep trying then, right?”

“Keishin, no—“

“Oh, so you don’t mind?”

“Keishin!”

Thank you all for bearing through this lengthy monstrosity! Again, I had a whole bunch of fun writing it.

[samwrights]

I’m sorry but ukai with a breeding kink😳yes PLEASE

I swear I saw another ask that asked for Ukai with an impreg kink

*ahem* anyways—WOW this one was a doozy but holy shit did I have fun writing it. 11k words you guys. 11. K. It is a lot so grab some cocoa or coffee and a blanket because this is a read. It even has to be split into two parts because I hit the fucking text limit, BUT this also means there is no actual smut in this portion. You can find that here.

If you guys need some ear candy, I recommend the following:

Day N Nite (Crooker’s Remix) by Kid Cudi

Pursuit of Happiness (Extended version with Steve Aoki) by Kid Cudi

Breaking Me by Topic

C’Mon by Ke$ha

Flannel by The Cardboard Swords (it has to be sad somewhere)

Magic in the Hamptons by Social House

Fun fact: Ke$ha was actually the primary inspiration for this fic and for DJ!Ukai. God bless her.

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied drug use, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

Without further ado, please enjoy the filthy depths of my brain followed by a relatively happy ending that I’ve titled, “Between the Lines’” :-)

“You’ve been more tired lately, and you’re showing up right when practice starts. Is everything okay?” Was the question that Takeda had asked Ukai Keishin that haunted him for years to come. Sure, he had wanted to gain more independence from his parents, wanted to start being more adult-like and take over the mortgage and the bills so his parents could finally rest. At the age of twenty-six, it seemed like a good idea at the time. With four years passing, however, Keishin was so damn tired, but it wasn’t like he could just stop working.

He was still tending to crops every morning, tending to the shop, coaching for Karasuno, but in the four years time, he had adopted one more job on the weekends—Ukai Keishin was a local nightclub DJ. He’d discovered the job opportunity one fateful night that he was out with his friends from the neighborhood association. To this day, he was still unsure of why he was approached with the job, especially considering he didn’t know the first thing about being a DJ, but the woman who had offered him the position had taught him everything he needed to know.

It turned out that he had a natural affinity for the position, seeing as he was still at it years later under the alias Spira. Ukai kept telling himself that he would quit the gig eventually because there was no way he could continue working four jobs—it was inhuman and the money didn’t even really matter to him. Okay, that last one is a lie; his DJ gig has been a substantial contributor to his savings funds to the point where he was even able to afford a newer, larger, (and slightly) used SUV in full compared to his tiny, old yellow beater. Even his mortgage bills were starting to look less daunting with the current cash flow.

Who needs sleep anyway? Ukai survived and thrived off of nicotine and caffeine anyway. Besides, sleep was the last thing on his mind whenever he set foot into the club. It was impossible to think of anything other than the writhing bodies of sweaty, young adults that were already drunk or high or were practically fucking each other with their clothes on. Perhaps that was part of the reason Keishin felt the need to quit this job—he was envious. Envious of the fact that he never got to indulge in his youth like these kids did; he started working and helping his family out right away after college. Sure, he went out here and there, but these twenty-something-year-olds were living their best life, while he was thirty and catering to their whims.

To say he was a bit bitter would be an understatement.

Bitterness aside, however, it did him good to see the youth enjoying exactly that—their youth. They got to do as they pleased between exams and becoming functioning members of society and, while he was jealous, Ukai was proud to be able to contribute to their pleasure.

He’d arrived to the club early, as he often did, to try to grab a drink before he was due for stage time. Ukai was thankful the bartenders knew him enough that he didn’t have to verbally order considering the music was too loud to hear him in the first place. A rum and coke manifests itself in a small, plastic cup that the blonde raises in thanks before weaving and bobbing around the various partygoers. For the most part, he’s successful in dodging the flailing bodies as he mutely notes the very upbeat remix of some female pop artist playing.

But only remotely successful as Keishin attempts to salvage his drink from spilling as he raises it over his head as one of the partygoers is pushed into him. “Hey, careful!” He snaps toward the younger, [hair color]ed woman. She only looks half-offended by the scolding, but otherwise unperturbed. If anything, the dominating expression on her face was confusion.

“Coach Ukai?” He’s surprised to hear both his given name and his title, let alone coming from a club patron, as they all knew him as Spira. Recognition slips his mind entirely—he’s never met this girl in any way that he can remember. Certainly, he would never forget crossing paths with this beauty, even if she was dressed in a similarly juvenile fashion to the other ravers. Tight crop top tee cinched together by a knot at the midriff, with army green high-waisted shorts attempting to cover the bare skin, face painted with makeup, glitter, and sweat; even underneath the garb, she brought forth no recollection. “Uh, d-do you remember me?” It’s a challenge to hear over the music, but she presses forward close enough that her lips are right in Keishin’s ear.

“Can’t say that I do,” he yells right back into hers.

“Karasuno class of twenty-twelve, I was Sugawara’s girlfriend.” Oh.

Oh.

Now he remembered, vaguely, but he doesn’t ever remember her looking like this. The last four years had been incredibly kind to her, in more ways than one. Back in her Karasuno days, [name] had always looked pleasant, for lack of better term. But there was always a lifeless, matted, dull glaze to her eyes that screamed she was searching for something more. While it was still somewhat present, there was a substantial joyous air around her. It looked good on her. However, as much as Ukai wanted to stay and admire, he had to go get set up for the evening. Or rather, that was the excuse he used when he said he would catch her after the show. “[name], did you know who that was?” The woman in question gives a nod, confused at the sudden star struck gawks that her friends held.

“Uh, yeah? My ex-boyfriend’s volleyball coach?”

“No dude, that was the DJ, Spira.”

“What?”

Being the closing act meant a lot of different things to Ukai Keishin. On the negative spectrum, it meant he was going to have to tend to crops as soon as he finished cleaning up his set. That also meant he wasn’t going to get to go to bed until nearly eight in the morning after his shift at the farm. Yet, for him, the positives greatly outweighed the negatives. For Keishin, watching the audience lose themselves in euphoria, albeit probably a drug-induced one, just hit different for him. It was a sense of satisfaction that only came from a select few activities, with coaching volleyball being the other major contributor. There was just something about the way the crowd was overwhelmed and screaming the second underground remixes of old Kid Cudi tracks with his own twists overtook the speakers that granted Keishin a sense of enlightenment.

For him, being a DJ allowed an audience to flow and vibe with the journey of his life and all its constant up and down motions while under the guise of anonymity. As Spira, Ukai opened up the complexity and conflicting feelings of his inner mind and brought it to fruition through his mixes. He felt that in his soul, he’d done his art of storytelling justice. The audience felt it. Hell, his mom at home probably felt it. Perhaps it was one of the main reasons this dingy, hole-in-the-wall club kept asking him to come back every weekend.

His mind wanders further as he clutches an electronic cigarette in his hand, mixing beats on the turntable while taking hits of nicotine in between. He wonders if the girl he had ran into just a few minutes prior had been frequenting here as often as he had. Then, thinking back to what little information she supplied earlier, Ukai’s mind drifts off to the former third-year setter from when he first started coaching. Sugawara was a nice boy with a firm, almost parental, hand that walked dangerously along the lines of being a partner and being a control freak. When it came to his relationship, things had to go his way. And while his girlfriend that came to every tournament was much more outspoken yet easy going, she was opinionated and didn’t shy from confrontation.

Now that the coach had given it more thought, it was a wonder that one tolerated the other at any point in time. If anything, Ukai imagines the two of them would typically be at each other’s throats. From the few times he had interacted with her, she was always more free spirited and couldn’t be weighed down by any one else’s opinion, but seeing her now was different—she was in her element in the dingy, dark club with the glitter on her cheekbones refracting light off of her face. There was laughter and true, unabashed joy on her face. She had a light of her own—like she was ray of sunshine in the center of a storm.

Three hours past midnight when the club closed was always Keishin’s sign to leave, regardless of the countless attempts to attend the after party he’d been invited to. He had to go to work, after all. Sure, a part of him had always been a little green with envy at all the DJs that got to hook up with club patrons after, but after being at this gig for a few years, he figured that the right girl for him would eventually come to him if he continued working on himself. After all, he didn’t want to just have a string of one night stands with a bunch of fresh adults that could barely function after the small drop of Malibu rum—he was too old for that.

“Uh, coach?” [name] felt strange calling him that, but she didn’t feel familiar enough with him to address him otherwise. He was halfway in his car, the blonde ready to leave for the weekend to go back to his regular day-to-day work. “You coming to the after party?” [name] asks when Keishin only looks at her in question, cigarette hanging betwixt his dry lips.

“No, I actually have to go to work right now.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t mean to express her disappointment, but it slips anyway, “guess I’ll catch you later then?”

“Uh, yeah.” A tight lipped hybrid of a pained grin and grimace crosses her wet, gloss covered lips. Without another word, Ukai closes his car door, a little more brusquely than he intended to, before backing out and leaving the young woman to her own devices. His mind wanders once again with him humming absentmindedly to the soft acoustic punk playing over the car radio. His eyes are focused on the passing greenery, the cars that are weaving and bobbing off the freeway—hell he even noticed the way the tendrils of the sun are just barely starting to peak over the horizon because it reminded him of her. A thought he banishes immediately because he feels creepy for even thinking that.

Yet no matter how much scenery flitted through his honey eyes, his mind keeps traveling back to one thing, or rather one person, only.

Goddammit.

On Monday’s practice, Ukai Keishin’s mind is flooding and drowning in memories of his first year as the volleyball club’s coach. It was as if his mind was coercing him to attempt to reach out to the girl that plagued his mind for the last forty-eight hours or so. Though, he had no way of contacting her. Instead, with every step along the wooden floors, he can remember the way she would walk Suga to practice, almost physically seeing her standing in the doorway to kiss the third-year setter goodbye. As if he could see her sitting underneath the third window from the left, quietly doing homework and exchanging small talk and airy laughter with Kiyoko and Daichi. As if he could see the same sunny smile she gave in the audience from Saturday night at the club between the lines of the woodwork in the floorboards.

It was a repeating pattern day in and day out that was beginning to make Ukai question his sanity.

“Hey, man,” his assistant coach and fellow Karasuno alumni, Tsukishima Akiteru, places a hand on his shoulder and looks at him in worry. “Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all week.” In what world did a week translate into three days, the older blonde coach didn’t know.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Keishin all but bites back. He didn’t want to admit his conscious had been running rampant with thoughts of a girl he’d briefly met at a club. It felt almost as disturbing and perverted as it sounded in his mind.

“The team’s worried about you. Why don’t you take an early weekend and get some rest? We’ll see you back on Monday, yeah?” Normally, Ukai would have vehemently refused. However, his circumstances were far from normal and he was gracious for an assistant coach he trusted wholeheartedly to do the work that needed to be done. And so, Ukai heeded Akiteru’s advice and went home before practice even began on Thursday afternoon.

It was slightly disorienting for him to go home and nap, but he was incredibly thankful for the gift. Waking up just before he was technically supposed to start his shift at the shop, Keishin jumps into a cold shower to bring him to life before heading downstairs. A bellowing yawn passes his lips through his teeth as he starts his evening. Maybe his team was right—he really did need a break. Thankfully, he knew that the second the doors to the Sakanoshita were locked, he was done for the evening and wouldn’t need to reawaken until three the following morning. Just a few more hours until then, he thought.

With it being a slower evening as well, Ukai was able to kick his feet up on the counter as he always did, pull open the newspaper from earlier in the morning and casually flip through. Briefly, he considers giving up one of his four jobs because this was something he missed doing. But consideration aside, he was far too in love with the cash flow and the thought of paying off his mortgage to entertain the thought for long. Maybe one day, he would finally sell the Sakanoshita store or quit helping on the farm—

“You still work here?” Huh. Her voice sounds different when it isn’t drowning under the speakers of a nightclub.

“I do own this place, you know.” Ukai snarks at the woman who’d been consuming his brain for the last week. She looks different without glitter reflecting off of her unreal cheekbones or the heavy layers of foundation and eyeshadow. Even more than before, Keishin definitely recognized [name] now. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Shopping,” she snorts as if it were the most obvious thing, “why else would I be at a store?”

“Dunno, maybe you’re just here to see me.” Ukai responds without skipping a beat, turning the page of the paper to play into his guise that he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised at [name]’s presence.

“Uh...actually...” her voice is quiet, prompting the coach to quirk a brow and fold up the paper he was now pretending to read. It wasn’t like he could focus on anything right now outside of the woman standing before him, spearated only by a thin counter. Without talking again, his brown eyes lock with hers, silently goading for her to continue speaking. “I-I just...I don’t know. It was just really weird to see you at the club and then to find out that you’re Spira on top of that. I haven’t seen anyone from Karasuno since I graduated and—“

“Woah, kid, breathe.” Ukai interrupts her before she can continue spewing word vomit at a hundred miles an hour. “So what if I’m Spira? Though, you better not tell anyone that. My stage name is a secret between us, alright?” For a moment she’s quiet, gears turning in her head. The secrecy didn’t make sense to her because, if anything, he should be proud of the fact that he’s rather well known in the underground electronica scene. Or at least, she was in his stead, because [name] would have been proud of Ukai regardless of whatever occupation he held.

She supposed it came with the territory of having an unrequited crush on the coach years ago, that continued well beyond high school and even university, back when she was still dating Sugawara Koushi. It was the reason she had even bothered to come sit in on his practices and partially the reason she would come to his tournaments and matches. Not that she didn’t want to be supportive of her then-boyfriend—it would have been a fight had she not—but seeing the hot older coach was definitely a bonus in her book. “But why?” She offers, not wanting conversation to end despite her not having actually bought anything.

“If the school ever caught wind of me doing that, I could lose my position as the coach. Some shit about Karasuno’s image or whatever.” [name] gives a small nod, fidgeting subconsciously, as an attempt to shake her nerves and anxiety, by sifting through various candy bars that were in front of her before grabbing her favorite. Without a second thought, she peels the wrapper before placing the candy between her lips, the puffy pink skin greatly contrasting the chocolate coating. “Ya gonna pay for that, kid?” Ukai irks, his honey brown eyes steeling over in irritation. The nickname she’s given hits the final nail on the coffin and seals away [name]’s trepidation. Instead, her own sass comes out to join the fun.

“Nah,” she hums playfully, the chocolate-covered wafer cookie crunching between her teeth. “Quit calling me kid, coach. I’m a lady,” the irony isn’t lost on either of them as she speaks with her mouth full.

“Still a kid, kid. And quit calling me coach, I’m not your damn coach.” The familiar, grumpy attitude of his brings [name] back to the Ukai she knew back in high school. In a mix of nostalgia, warmth washes over her as the haughty tone in his voice sent shivers down her spine like it did a few years back.

“Sure thing, coach,” she teases again before tossing the wrapper of the stolen candy bar into the nearest bin. “You’re at the club tomorrow, right?” The question adds a bit of context and confirmation to Ukai—it seems she knew when Spira was performing, meaning she must have been a patron for a decent amount of time. Part of him wonders how she never realized who he was before, another part wonders how he’s never noticed her considering she could make all traffic stop if she stood in the middle of a freeway. At least, that’s what looking at her did to his heart.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe this time, you’ll join us at the after party.” Without another word, [name] pushes herself away from the counter she’d been leaning on while talking to the blonde man. With Akiteru giving him the weekend off, he actually entertained the thought of attending this time. Even if her invitation was rather blasé and indirect, he didn’t see the opportunity of him attending one presenting itself any time soon. He may be old, by his own standard, but there was a unknown allure to the thought of showing up to a wild party with a woman that was so adamant of his attendance.

Or rather, adamant in his mind. Whether she actually wanted his company remained to be seen, but the curiosity was gnawing at him, and was something he would have to unearth sooner rather than later.

Having an entire night, or a day’s worth, of rest was a rather disorienting, yet pleasant feeling for Ukai. After tending to crops and returning home in the early hours of the morning, the blonde coach was able to catch a solid nine hours of sleep before his shift at the Sakanoshita store with another chance to nap before he needed to head to the club. Despite knowing he had the ability to do so before another restless night, his mind felt the need to keep him awake and alert. Even after showering and styling his blonde tresses into their usual mane—mundane acts that usually came to him automatically—he was hyper aware of the slightest unruly flyaways.

Ukai Keishin was nervous.

He didn’t know what to wear or if there was a dress code or if anything he typically wore would be deemed worthy of an after party. A part of him wanted to leave it alone and let him sport his usual white track pants and tight, maroon muscle tank, but that part of him immediately drowns in the ocean of his anxiety. Another string in his brain prompted him to dress up just a little bit to help him look the part—it had nothing to do with impressing a certain club patron, no—he tried to convince himself. A miserable attempt, but still one nonetheless.

Eventually, he settled on crisp, dark-washed jeans that hugged his muscular legs without being suffocating, paired with a vibrant, crimson muscle tee that hugged his biceps all the same. Ukai still felt a little out of place in the attire, as he often had back when he first assumed the alias Spira, but headed out the door of his apartment before his conscious could dispute it.

He was early again, even more so than normal. Desperate for a drink to calm his nerves and replace his blood with liquid courage, Ukai worms his way around to the bar, signaling the attendant for his usual. Rum and coke in hand, the DJ stands off to the side, hiding like a wallflower, while he studied the sweaty, dancing bodies. Did he know why he was looking for her—no. Maybe partially to tell her she owed him for the candy bar, maybe to tell her he was joining in on the after party this time around.

Maybe to just see her.

Keishin banishes the last thought with a shake of his head before skulking off to the attached patio to smoke. Pulling a cigarette from his pack and a lighter from his pocket, the flame torches the end of the filter at the same time the blonde inhales. Forcefully pushing the smoke out past his lips, Ukai takes a hearty sip of his drink until it’s nearly gone. He was going to need something stronger tonight.

“Is it that time already?” The older man’s head snaps to the voice that had been haunting him subconsciously.

Part of him wishes he didn’t look.

As if to play into her question, [name] checks the large, rose gold watch on her right wrist—an incredibly stark contrast to her outfit for the evening. Maybe it was a hunch when Ukai felt that he had been underdressed, as if his intuition knew that she was going to be dressed to the nines in a black skater dress. Even with a modest neckline, the lace cut out detailing on the sides of the dress accentuated her curves impeccably, playing well with the volume of the skirt, while the open back she was sporting dipped dangerously low.

It took everything in Ukai to not throw every milliliter of restraint and inhibition out the window and fuck her right then and there.

Taking a lengthy drag of his cigarette to hold himself back, Keishin inhales deeply, the smoke billowing past his lips emerging densely and grey in color. “I’m a little early—needed an extra drink today.” The man manages to choke out, downing whatever is left in his little plastic cup for added emphasis.

“Need another?” [name] chirps politely; almost too politely as if to deliberately dispute the salacious thoughts flooding the coaches mind.

“I can get—“

“I owe you anyway,” she reminds him, alluding to the candy bar she had eaten without paying for from the previous night. “Pick your poison.”

“Double rum and coke.” He concedes. [name]’s lips twitch upward slightly at the corner before she plucks the empty cup from Ukai’s hand. He doesn’t miss the way the shellac on her nails grazes against his skin, leaving the whispers of contact to run warm. Immediately, the blonde man uses the nearly dead cigarette between his teeth to light a fresh one—heaven or hell knows he needed the nicotine right now.

Given the silence, Keishin takes the opportunity to absorb his surroundings. From the general direction that [name] initially came from, she wasn’t around any of her friends or really anyone that he knew. That was good at least; there wasn’t anybody else that knew of his presence. [name] returns, two clear plastic cups in her hands and surrenders the darker of the two to the man awaiting. “Hold mine for a sec?” Without thinking, Keishin holds his cigarette between his left index and middle fingers, his drink in the same hand, while taking hers. To his surprise, she pulls out her own pack of menthols and a torch lighter, setting the leaves ablaze before taking her obvious vodka cranberry back.

“You took up smoking?” The older of the two asks in surprise, noting the way her lipstick leaves the slightest bit of residue along the brown filter. [name] gives a shrug.

“Surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, coach. I’ve been smoking since second year.” Ukai gives a roll of his eyes at the use of this strange pet name he’s been dubbed by her. But he thinks about it, thinks about how Suga must have felt probably knowing that she did. Thinks how it just added to this strange, sassy yet happy, wild and free exterior she now had. And [name] notices instantly the very same look Ukai had in his face when he was trying to strategize, trying to figure out a way to navigate a conversation with his team about becoming better—she knows what’s coming next. “Yeah, yeah, I know I should quit or whatever. Suga lost that argument a long time ago.”

“Can’t really tell you what to do when I’m just as guilty.” Ukai gives a laugh—one that is embedded with bitterness and envy at the mention of the third-year setter—yet is just as vivacious as he is. A sound entirely different than she’d ever heard leave his lungs before. She likes it.

After finishing his smoke, Keishin gulps down a hefty swig of his drink before patting [name] on the shoulder before announcing his departure. “I’ll see you inside,” the girl, woman, calls out thoughtfully as she gives a small wave with her cigarette filter between her fingers. Ukai doesn’t verbalize the same sentiment. He doesn’t want to slip up and admit he’ll be looking for her.

But it’s painfully obvious that he is when he takes over the booth. Unable to hide the fact that with every chance that he looks into the audience, he’s searching for that black skater dress that hugs her all too perfectly, [hair color] locks swaying as she moves in the crowd. Ukai can’t hide it at all—not behind the turn table or new remixes meant to get the crowd moving.

He can’t hide the urgency he feels to find her outside in the crisp evening air, smoking on the back patio of the club after his set. [name] is talking and laughing with her friends while thin grey smoke billows from her open mouth before her eyes land on him. Some of her friends take notice to the tension and their shared gazes, some of them whispering his alias in excitement. But [name] just smiles knowingly, if not a little cocky, because she can see that urgency, that desperation, that Ukai was trying to hide. “Wait, [name], do you know Spira?” A bystander asked. Clearly, they weren’t present the last time this was brought up.

“Yeah, I may have met him once or twice,” the woman in question snickers as she strides over closer and closer to the aforementioned DJ.

“Cute,” Ukai sneers teasingly at her jab before instinctively reaching for the half-gone cigarette she pulls to her stained lips. At first, she thought he was going to put it out, considering their little conversation from a few hours ago. Instead, the volleyball coach puts the filter to his own lips, noting the damp fabric probably from her freshly applied lipgloss, and takes a drag. It tasted like watermelons and mint.

“Cheeky,” [name] returns, plucking her cancer stick back from the blonde man. While her friends are still behind her murmuring about the familiarity between the two of them, Keishin and [name] are lost in their own little world. “So since your set is over, and considering you’re still here, I’m assuming you’re joining me for the after party? Or do you have to go to work again?”

“I told them I’d be out of town this weekend,” Ukai tries to play it off as nonchalantly as he could, ties to swallow it down his nerves with rum and nicotine. It proves rather difficult considering the coy smile on [name]’s face is wearing and cracking through his resolve rather quickly. But at least, to him, he could confirm his mind was not playing tricks on him and [name] was just as adamant about his attendance as he initially thought. Even more so with her next statement.

“Cool. Your car or mine?” It took him a minute to process her words even—lust thickening and constricting the flow to his brain at the vague question. Ukai was getting far too ahead of himself, but goddammit how could he focus when the fabric of her skirt hit her mid-thigh and framed her like a Venetian goddess—“I don’t mind driving there.” She adds to coax him away from his silence.

“Nah, I got it. We’ll take mine.”

“Lead the way,” [name] chimes sweetly as she wraps an arm around the coach’s forearm. The physical touch is everything he’s been fantasizing about for the last few days—hellfire and brimstone and sunlight and goddammit why did he wear jeans that were only getting tighter and tighter?

Ukai opens the passenger door to his SUV, supporting the woman as she clambered in cautiously so as not to stumble from her heels. Getting settled in, the coach surrenders his unlocked phone to allow her the entirety of his music library. The irony of the DJ surrendering DJ rights to the passenger was not lost on either of them. Much to his surprise, [name] put on soft acoustic punk as he usually did on his way home from the club. The kind of softness one would turn on to accompany the fragile pitter-patter of rain against the windshield. “Cardboard Swords?” Ukai asks in surprise, more than familiar with the band.

“Flannel is a favorite of mine. I’m kind of surprised it’s in your library.” She adds after she begins directing him to this evening’s party location. From the corner of his eyes, he can see the way her full lips are moving along each word with expertise. He sees the way her [eye color] orbs soften slightly and he can tell this song hits home for her.

She’ll never say why—she’ll never tell him this was the song that helped her move on from Sugawara Koushi while restoring her inner peace.

But Keishin is no fool. He can tell that this is physically hurting her—crushing her soul into the leather seat of his car and, instinctually, he wraps a large hand around hers that’s resting in her lap. “I came out tonight to have fun with you, so don’t you go getting sad on me.” He means each word with innocent intent, yet he cannot ignore the almost hidden, salacious drip to each syllable and neither can she. How could she when his touch sent volts of electricity through her skin?

“Right, right,” she says in a conceding tone, switching the audio to something much more upbeat and a little flirty. “Why did you agree to go out tonight?” If Ukai had an answer, then it died on his lips as he let go of [name]’s hand to reach for another cigarette. The process of lighting the tube, inhaling, and exhaling bought him an extra minute to come up with an excuse; her doing the same giving him another thirty seconds.

“I don’t know.” It’s a blatant lie—a lie that [name] believes all too easily—but Ukai can’t bring himself to admit the truth. He can’t admit out loud that she’s the only thing that’s been on his mind all week or that he jumped at the opportunity, created one even, to be able to have a one-on-one moment with her. Keishin can’t admit that he can tell there are intricate webs spun in her mind and that all he wants to do is untangle them one by one.

And he certainly can’t tell her that even the mere sight of her sends his brain into overdrive and all he wants to do is repeatedly fill her over and over with his seed until she is entirely his, inside and out in mind, body, and soul. There was no way in the nine circles of hell that Ukai Keishin was going to admit to his sinful thoughts.

“It’s just up here.” [name] points with gaunt fingers, cigarette between them as her voice is half choked from inhaling her own smoke. Mirroring the man’s actions earlier, she indulged in her own nicotine habit to quell the budding disappointment from Ukai’s lackluster response. They drove up a slight winding hill and as the trees pass by, the itch for her truth and her history was gnawing at him. He wanted to know why this rambunctious party girl invited him all week to these elusive after parties. Why Flannel ate away at her insides like it did his. Why did her and Sugawara breakup?

But he decides against it for the moment.

“Where are we?” Ukai asks. There’s cars all lining the sides of the road of varying worth—he felt even more out of place than normal with his older SUV, even if it was an upgrade for him, considering the large number of luxury vehicles.

“Bevelle’s house.” [name] says simply, pointing to an empty space in the streets as she throws the butt of her cigarette into the road. The casual way she name drops the owner of the club makes him gawk, catching flies in his mouth had there been any at the hour. With a satisfied, cheesy grin, she hops out of her seat and walks in the grass to meet Ukai on the other side as he clambers out of the vehicle as well. In familiarity, she grips into his forearm once again as they walk towards the forest mansion.

Keishin wasn’t sure what to expect when the two of them walked in, but a home full of people screaming his pseudonym and her name was not on that list. Younger hordes had surrounded [name], greeting her warmly and telling her how glad they were to see her again for the evening. Others were approaching Ukai, telling them how rare and a momentous occasion that the infamous artist Spira was amongst their midst.

“Glad to see you could join us, Spira.” His boss and club owner, Bevelle, approaches the mismatched couple. Bevelle was an alias used by the middle aged woman, her real name unknown to those that didn’t know her know her, and was once upon a time her stage name. While she had chosen a quiet location in the Miyagi prefecture, Bevelle was quite known in the underground scene. Granted, Ukai didn’t know any of that when he’d taken the job. If anything, it was all thanks to her that he was able to learn for his own success as well as granting him the opportunity to learn in the first place. “Good to see you too, trouble.” Bevelle affectionately goes to muss at [name]’s hair, to which she only replies with a cheeky grin.

“How do you know Bevelle?” Ukai presses his lips towards the ear of the woman still hanging onto him as she expertly leads the way to the kitchen. The car ride left her feeling slightly uncomfortable, ashamed even though she would never admit to that, and she knew she definitely needed a drink after it. Part of her was heavily rebuking herself for trying to pry into his mind by asking why he came along, even more so when she put on the one song that shattered her heart every time she heard it. It just excited her that he had it in his library, that he even knew who The Cardboard Swords were, and that he enjoyed the same obscure taste in music as much as she did.

“She’s a close family friend!” The chirp that [name] gives isn’t entirely convincing, like she isn’t telling the truth. Regardless, Ukai washes down his doubt with the beer he was handed, figuring she probably had her reasons. And as soon as the plastic is in each of their hands, [name] downs the contents immediately, hoping to drown out the nerves ebbing from her stomach with vodka. She should have been ecstatic—her old high school crush, her unrequited crush, was here with her, drinking side by side but she can’t help but feel the tension between them—sexual or otherwise.

Just as the two of them down their second round, a piercing voice cuts through the thicket of the masses, calling out her name and capturing her attention. “It’s your song! Come on!” A shrug and a smile crosses [name]’s features as she’s all but dragged away to a different part of the mansion. Much to his surprise, she grabbed onto Keishin to drag him along as well.

The two of them are presented with a myriad of sweaty, rolling bodies—much more gone than Ukai had ever seen at the club itself. It was oddly...sensual, if it could be called that, to see the fluid movements between party goers. Sensual, intimate, strange—all of them could be used interchangeably at this moment.

[name] is dancing with another woman, mouthing all of the words to the current pop song while bobbing and jumping around excitedly before her eyes lock on his. She’s in her element now. All sunshine and smiles like Ukai had seen from on occasion from years ago or most recently at the club, but they’re directed at him for once as she pulls him closer onto the dance floor. The taunting beats and repetitive call of “come on” and the way [name] loosely wraps her arms around his neck as she dances brings Ukai to the realization that this was the end of the line.

The end of the line, because Keishin can’t hold himself back anymore.

Not with the way her hips are grinding against is and she’s laughing warmly and heartily at his slight discomfort and her teeth are glittering off the lights in the dark room like stars in the night sky. Not with the way her head is thrown back and her dress drops low enough to flaunt the expanse of bare skin of her neck and collar bones that are just begging him to sink his teeth in. Not with the way her [eye color]ed orbs are locked with his as she sings along with the music, oddly enough alluding to some form of confession of her feelings.

He can’t fucking take it anymore.

The large hands he has on her hips move just under her arms to hoist her up, [name] instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist to keep her balance. Their eyes are locked, honed in on each other with the rest of the party melting into the background. With her deepest, most wild high school fantasy driving her actions, she grins. “Hi,” is all she says before Ukai cranes his neck back to cover her lips with his.

His kiss is everything she imagined it would be after years of pining. The smell and taste of smoke and wood floods her senses as his tongue laps at the watermelon lip gloss on her bottom lip before seeking refuge within her mouth. His hands, now wrapped around her thighs give intermittent squeezes, either to keep them grounded in reality or just because he needs something to clutch at—she’s unsure of which. In response, her manicured fingernails tangle into his messy blonde locks. Their kiss pours out their desperation, laying it all out on the table for the both of them to see clear as day.

The only thing that prompts them to break apart is the ending of the song.

“You wanna get out of here?” Ukai asks as he tenderly puts [name] back on the ground. As if he weren’t just making out with her moments ago, the motion is delicate and gingerly and almost loving.

“Not yet,” there’s a knowing, smug lilt in her voice as she turns on her heel and throw herself back into the throng of party people. Or rather, attempts. While she’s attempting to flee, Keishin snatches her wrist, pulling her closer until their chests are flush against each other.

“Nuh uh,” the blonde man tuts, “you’ve been asking me to join you at a party all week, now here I am. The hell makes you think you’re leaving my side tonight?” [name]’s grin only grows wider.

“I’ve waited for years for this opportunity, coach, so if you think I’m not gonna have fun with it, you’re dead wrong.” The word ‘years’ constricts the man’s heart—forces his pupils to blow into dilation with her modest, yet blunt confession.

“Years?”

“Years,” she repeats, “ever since that first practice you stumbled into the Karasuno gym as the temporary coach. Why do you think I came to every single exhibition match and tournament? Or came to study and do homework while you guys had practice?” This girl was grinding at every steel line of self-control that was left in Ukai’s body because every word spilling past her lips added an additional ten volts to the sexual tension between them.

“We’re leaving.” He bites out despite the delicate tone. Wrapping his hand around hers once again, Keishin tugs her along time dodge the party goers that threw the two of them curious glances, wondering why they were quick to leave shortly after their arrival. Just to tease him further, [name] almost wants to offer a rebuttal and tell him that they should stay longer and enjoy the show. However, she knows she’s done enough waiting and if he was taking her home, she wasn’t going to argue.

While urgency and desperation was their game, Keishin didn’t cut corners when it came to presenting himself as a gentleman as he helped [name] back into the car. Hormones be damned—he was still going to help a lady into the passengers seat. “You never did tell me why you finally agreed to come out tonight.” She says quietly, as if the two of them hadn’t been making out and dry humping a few minutes prior. “And it’s clearly not because you knew I had a crush on you all throughout third year—“

“Don’t act like you’re the only one with feelings in this.” Ukai grits out, speeding much faster back home than he did on the way to Bevelle’s house. Paying that no mind, [name]’s ears perk up at his own wayward confession. When she asked for clarity, a rumbling groan shakes his chest as he patted down his pockets in search for his nicotine sticks. “I didn’t recognize you the first night at the club because you look different now. Happiness looks good on you.”

“Happiness?” She echos confusedly, turning to face Ukai fully after lighting her own cigarette.

“You used to always look content back then—just barely content and nothing more. And I can’t stop thinking back to those days because you’re this ball of sunshine, kid, and I can’t stop wondering what the hell Suga did to you to dim your shine that badly. I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week.”

[name] is quiet for a moment at his own rendition, his own version, of a confession and she’s stunned. And she can’t tell if she wants to cry or kiss him because this is not that way she ever fantasized this conversation going. It was going better than she dreamed. Better, because the words that Ukai is saying adds an entirely new layer to his amped up personality—he wasn’t just the sexy volleyball coach that she used to pine over. He was a person with deep rooted feelings for justice in the sense of wanting to understand how someone could inflict damage to the innocent and he wanted to rectify said injustices. He wanted to know how someone like Suga could try to dampen her sunlight instead of allowing her to thrive and bloom.

She wants to kiss him, she decides, but since he’s driving, she settles for placing a chaste one on the corner of his mouth. “Serves you right,” she jokes when she pulls away, “it’s been a long four years for me. It’s your turn to suffer.”

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

[ next ]

[samwrights]

Can you bless us with some KuroKen x fem s/o domesticity and nsfw?

YESSSSS LETS GET SOME POLY LOVE UP IN HERE TAM. YALL SEND IN MORE POLY WORK I’M MISSING HAVING A SIDE BOYF.

I dunno about y’all, but I love the idea of living with these two.

They’re so chill that home would be your favorite place to be.

I already mentioned that Kuroo is a master in the kitchen—dinner time as a family 🥺 I’m soft.

Kenma, oddly enough, is the family green thumb.

He cares for all the plants and even has a little garden so that Kuroo has fresh, homegrown ingredients.

You do most of the cleaning around the house since Kenma usually works from home and is busy almost 24/7

And Kuroo is Kuroo. He’s tidy enough, but he doesn’t clean per se.

Once a week though, they do help you with laundry just because trying at tackle all three of your clothes, folding them and putting them away was just unfair.

Do you know how much clothes Kuroo fucking owns? A lot.

Kenma also takes out the garbage for you because you hate it.

Speaking of Kenma, I don’t find him to be overly sexual. If anything? He’s in this for the romantic side of things.

But there are days when he’s so stressed out from work that you and Kuroo make it a point that he needs to relax.

Even if you need to force it out of him.

Though he would never admit it, you and Kuroo on your knees sharing and worshipping his cock was the sexiest thing to him.

No, he didn’t sit there and fantasize about it every second of every day, but when the sight was in front of him—oof.

Especially when Kuroo starts jacking himself off while he’s got one of Kenma’s balls in house mouth.

He’s done for.

Always always always ends up cumming in your mouth.

Just for a little show, you don’t swallow all of it—you dribble a little bit into Kuroo’s mouth so he can have a taste.

Because he’s not as active as the two of you are, Kenma watches in fascination while the two of you get each other off.

Making out while swishing Kenma’s cum back and forth

Watching the way Kuroo’s dick is spreading your wet lips to give way to his girth.

Usually just watching can get Kenma going for one more round.

Especially when your lips wrap around his half hard dick again.

So much for a live stream today.

Or maybe 🤔

Kenma would lowkey entertain the thought of the three of you camming together but he’s gonna keep that to himself.

For now.

[samwrights]

No Filter Fridays [5.8.20]

Here are all the requests that came in for this past No Filter Friday, just in case you weren’t able to hang out! Pretty much everything here is nsfw, so...

✴  - Slight/minimal nsfw warning (i.e. implied sex, or nonsexual warning)

♡  - Completely sfw

Domestic - Iwaizumi, Kuroo, & Sugawara  ✴

Kinks - Goshiki

Jealous Sex - Kuroo, Oikawa, & Bokuto

Thigh Highs - Iwaizumi & Tanaka

Morning Wood - Tsukishima, Bokuto, & Tendou

Dating - Goshiki ♡

Domestic Poly - KurooKenReader

Cockwarming - Bokuto, Kuroo, & Atsumu

First Date - Yaku ♡

Post Wedding - Kuroo, Oikawa, & Sugawara

Spankers - Kyoutani, Hinata, & Ushijima

Fingering - Oikawa, Kuroo, & Daichi

Squirting - Kuroo, Kenma, & Lev

Depression - Iida Tenya ✴

Spanking/Edging - Kuroo, Atsumu, & Daichi

Sleepy - Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Semi, & Kuroo ♡

Mommy Kink - Terushima, Shirabu, Tadashi, & Goshiki

Praise Kink - Hoshiumi

Sex With - Goshiki & Yaku

Sex With - Lev

My first matchup! - Ushijima Wakatoshi

Lullaby - Iwaizumi, Bokuto, & Kenma ♡

Squirting - Hinata

Tied Up - Bokuto, Kuroo, & Oikawa

Threesome - TaNoyaReader

Poly - KuroBoReader ✴

If you’re only here for NFF, thanks for hanging out and I can’t wait to see you all next week!

[samwrights]

ello:) if you don't feel like asking don't worry but can I request hcs ab how Kuroo feel ab hickeys?👀

Bruhhhh

You know this man is gonna try and leave hickeys everywhere.

He loves giving them—any and everywhere.

Neck is a given, and he makes sure your throat is predominately purple and green rather than the color of your skin.

Kuroo does try to behave and make sure they can be hidden under a turtleneck or scarf.

Try.

Collarbones are another repeat offender, those these love bites tend to be a little bit smaller.

It’s a little harder to nibble and anchor on the less expansive surface area of your pert collarbones.

Your breasts, while sensitive, fell victim to Kuroo’s tongue and teeth as well.

These ones aren’t as dark because you’re so fucking sensitive

But he does like to add a little more color to your skin every chance he can get.

The navel is much of the same story in terms of sensitivity.

Though, if at all honest, Kuroo prefers to gentle sickle on the supple skin of your stomach rather than bite.

But thighs.

T h i g h s.

The insides of your thighs are absolutely wrecked because he kNOWS you’re sensitive there.

And he loves the way you kick at his back and scream when he bites down.

Kuroo especially likes bruising every centimeter that he can because nobody will ever see his handy work.

He can be as rough and feral as he wants and watching your cunt gush as he does so.

[samwrights]

bruhh your Kuroo hickeys hcs got me weak-- what do you think ab an ukai or bokuto one? o-o

LETS DO SOME UKAI—

When it comes to Keishin, he doesn’t leave hickeys very often.

But when he does.

Oh boy, it looks like you got mauled.

Black, blue, purple, and green all along your neck and collar bones.

He also loves to nibble on that spot just behind your ear

Your chest—OOF. Your poor chest is in pleasurable pain from all the biting.

We can’t forget your hips. There’s something about the way your legs thrash when he bites down that Keishin just loves, so he often makes sure to leave them there too.

Keishin loves receiving them more than giving.

He doesn’t want any inch of his skin to show through

His weak spot is his belly button and his stomach in general

10/10, Keishin could literally get off just from you leaving hickeys all over him.

[samwrights]

HEY HEY HEY ! hows your Sunday going ?? Could I please have a lev nsfw story coz I’m thirsty for lev 🥺 and also coz boi is underrated 🥰 THANKIEWWW

ASK (thrice?) AND YE SHALL RECEIVE. So this one came to me while I was taking a shower and apparently I am in THE MOOD for our lil Russian bb—I also want to include that any other requests in my inbox that are asking for a Lev nsfw drabble, hc, oneshot will be directed to this post. Also Lev is 20 in this, Alissa is 24. Ahem, without further ado—

Warnings: uh Lev this is not how you comfort people who just got cheated on but, comfort sex, Lev’s first time, also awkward theme of having a crush on someone younger??

Edit: when you write nsfw while at work. the irony is not lost on me

Haiba Lev thought that one day, maybe, his stupid cliched crush on his older sister’s best friend would subside. A challenge in and of itself, considering you had been spending weekends at the Haiba home every single week for four years.

Four agonizing years of seeing you parade around in spandex shorts that clung to your body like a second skin with a baggy cutoff that dipped low enough to offer your bare hips.

Four years of listening to the way you pined after different crushes you had throughout the years.

Two years of hearing you gush over the unsavory, filthy things your boyfriend did to you through thin shared walls between his and Alisa’s room.

Four years of all of this bullshit, and Lev had finally had enough. He had to get out of this house before he either jacked off, again, from imagining he was the one balls deep in your cunt rather than your stupid boyfriend or he burst into Alisa’s room and just started reaming you in front of her.

Yeah, he needed to leave.

Yet, when Lev slips by his sister’s room, he doesn’t hear any gushing or squeals or even laughter coming from beyond the closed door. He hears crying, accompanied by soft shushing that he recognizes is Alisa’s voice.

“—you’re so much better than this and you deserve better than him.”

Oh?

Without even thinking, Lev knocks gently on the door, calling out your name. “Everything okay?” A dumb question, perhaps, but he can’t shake the feeling, the calling, that he needed to do something. To his surprise, Alisa opens the door, though not quite enough to allow him to see you in your obviously distressed state.

“Actually, can I ask you for a favor, Lyovochka?” Alisa peeks her head out the door, bright green eyes wandering as if to scope out the surroundings even though she knew nobody else was home. Like she was sworn to top secret information that nobody else was allowed to hear except for the man in question. Lev gives a half-hearted shrug, goading his sister to continue. “I just wanna run to the store really quick and grab some sweets for [name]. But she isn’t really in a state to come with me and I don’t want to leave her alone right now. Can you just watch over her?”

It felt wrong for Lev to admit this, even if only to himself, but he felt like after all the years he wasted praying to a god he didn’t believe in, his prayers had finally been answered. “Yeah, yeah I can do that.” Alisa opens the door a little more, revealing the disheveled mess that was you. If he were to sum it up in one word, it would be Yikes.

But even with your face red and your nose running and your eyes nearly swollen shut as you sobbed, you never looked more beautiful to Lev. So raw, so you. So damn beautiful. “I’m just gonna go grab some ice cream, [name]. Lev’s gonna be here for you until I get back, okay?” You have a nod, simultaneously choking down the bile that rose in your throat as your mind flurries with vivid, foul images of finding your boyfriend plowing a woman you’d never seen before in your bed. Thinking it’s smarter to leave sooner so that she can return quickly, Alissa flits off, leaving you in her little brother’s care.

It’s a little embarrassing, having your best friend’s little brother stand in the door jamb while every ounce of liquid is propelled through your eyeballs in waterfalls but you can’t stop. “I-I’m sorry, Lev, I should—“

“You don’t have to do anything.” The boy’s voice is lighthearted as he takes cautious, weary steps towards your crumpled frame on the floor. You say nothing as he approaches, lanky arms open slightly as he crouched before you. “C’mon. I don’t think sitting here is going to fix anything.” Lev gingerly places a hand on your bare feet, capturing your attention until he’s once again holding his arms open, gesturing at himself. Sniffling up the snot that had dribbled down your face, you limply wrap your arms around his neck. The Nekoma alumni wraps his own snake-like arms around your waist before hoisting you up to carry you. Feeling the sudden shift in gravity, you instinctively wrap your legs around his midsection so he didn’t drop you.

Were this under any other circumstance, Lev would be over the moon over the close contact. Shit, he was, but that was inappropriate. He was supposed to keeping you company not indulging in his wet daydreams of holding you just like this while he—

Bad Lev.

The middle blocker adjusts his grip around you to better support you, one of his arms dipping lower to press your hips closer to his torso while the other crosses over your shoulder blades and he swears he’s not thinking lewd thoughts in the moment. No, not in the slightest. Instead he convinces himself that he’s focused on the way you’re sniffling in his ear while your tear-soaked face is buried in his shoulder. He swears he’s not thinking about the way your lips are moving, albeit in sobs, along the thin fabric of his shirt. He swears.

Lev successfully manages to bring you to the living room sofa, ready to plop you down so he can try to comfort you with some cute, heartfelt movie. Yet your hands refuse to unwind from his neck, despite his arms already having fallen to his sides. “P-please...just hold me right now?”

There had to be a god or an angel or whatever higher power looking out for Lev.

As opposed to plopping you down on the couch, the younger Haiba plants himself beside you before fixing it so that you’re comfortably across his lap while his arms encircled your waist and resting his chin on the crown of your head. The soothing gesture only makes you sob more. “Do you want to talk about it?” Lev asks you, his chin applying and retracting pressure on your skull as he talks.

“There isn’t really anything to talk about,” despite you responding slowly after a brief pause, your voice is painted with bitter distaste, “I-I came home from work a-and he was, um, in our bed with someone.” You’re trying hard, so hard to hold it together but with every syllable is paired with a flicker of memory that causes your voice to break and crack along your lips. “I just...left. I couldn’t stay there, I-I didn’t even wait for an explanation—“

“[name], you don’t need an explanation and he should never have put himself or you in that position to begin with!”

“W-what?” Lev pulls himself away from his natural slouch, turning you slightly so that your hands find purchase on his broad shoulders and you can see the way his emerald eyes are on fire, despite the seemingly contradictory groan that rumbles in his chest.

“[name], you’re stunning, you’re funny, brilliant and you didn’t lose anything in this but some douche that can’t see how fucking amazing you are.” Maybe it’s Lev’s words or maybe it’s the way the pads of his fingers are now all but clutching at your skin as he cradles the sides of your face or maybe it’s the way his thumb is running over the trail of damp tears caressing your cheek bones. Whatever it is, your lips are pulled apart slightly as rapid, shallow breaths are leaving your lungs as your heartbeat thrums in your eardrums and swallowing this moment whole as Lev’s lip slat over your own.

The fire that was once swirling in his green eyes moves as he closes them, separating into the kiss to bring you the warmth you craved and desire into his belly because Lev wanted more. He wants more and he can’t stop himself from worming his tongue past your slightly parted lips and into your mouth. The muscle greets yours, shyly waiting for some form of reciprocation before proceeding. Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling him closer and forcing more of him into you because god, the only things you wanted right now was heat and comfort and affection and someone to show you that you were worth loving.

One of Lev’s hands that was resting on your cheek maneuvers away to once again snake around your waist as it had when he was carrying you. This time, his limb acted as a guide to grind your hips along his half-hard erection through his tightening jeans. Despite rushed and needy actions below, his kiss is the perfect juxtaposition. Tender and tentative, now that you’ve silently given him permission, Lev slides his tongue along the crevices of your mouth with your own petting the underside in encouragement. Meanwhile, your arms unwind themselves around his neck, allowing your fingers to trace down the front of his shirt until you’re met with the button of his jeans.

A surprised grunt leaves his chest while his lips leave yours, causing you to pull away while Lev watches your nimble fingers deftly working off the button and zipper off of his pants. “W-wait...” he tries to fight off the trepidation in his voice, grabbing onto one of your wrists to prevent you from ripping off his bottoms. He’s trying to not fuel every dirty fantasy he’d ever experience because this is real life. This is real life and for the past four years, Lev has had feelings for you and he can’t just bring himself to take advantage of your vulnerability. “We don’t have to do this.”

“What?” You nearly snarl. He waits until after he’s soaked you through your spandex to let his guilty conscious get in the way?!

“I love you, [name],” the trepidation is replaced by a swirl of confidence. If Lev is about to dick down the woman of his dreams, he was going to make sure you knew all the pain and suffering he endured and all the love behind his motivations. “And I’m not going to allow myself to just be a rebound—“

“You were too young,” you interrupt. Your hands finally stopped fidgeting with his pants and trying to get them off; instead, you mimic the same action he had done earlier with cupping his cheeks. “Plus, having a crush? On my best friend’s little brother? Talk about a cliche.” To your surprise, Lev lets out a laugh before he allows you to pull him closer, initiating the kiss this time around. Contrary to his own fire moments ago, your kiss is tender and delicate and full of tremors that reassure him he isn’t the only one feeling this. But your hips, on the other hand, are grinding even harder into him, his cock standing at full attention from under his boxers, the fabric pushing at the ajar zipper. “Touch me.” You breathe out as you pull away, raising your lower half so that he can rip off the damp spandex shorts you were wearing.

Your words give him the green light that Lev has been waiting to hear for years and he would be damned if he wasted anymore time. Plus, Alisa could be home at any minute and he’d really really rather be balls deep in you before she returned. The second your shorts and underwear are off, Lev licks the pads of two of his fingers, bringing them to your already swollen clit. Though apparently, his own assistance was unnecessary because you were fucking soaked. All from a fucking kiss. But, still wanting to prepare you and abide by your wishes, Lev unceremoniously plunges his middle finger into your core, forcing a scream to tear from your throat.

This was so much better than you imagined.

His massive finger was quickly accompanied by one more, stretching your walls beyond what you were used to by yourself or even your now ex. “Holy shit,” you seethed through clenched teeth as he moves them in urgent successions. From what you can tell, pleasure isn’t the first thing on his mind—just feeling you is enough for him. And right now, it’s enough for you too.

You claw at his bottoms, pulling down his jeans and boxers low enough to allow his mast to stand at full attention. The look on his face speaks volumes, along with the peridot glow swirling with the natural lust in his emerald orbs—he wants this to last. Lev doesn’t want to rush even though he had just told himself he didn’t want to waste time, doesn’t want this to only be a brief flicker of in the movie reel of his life. He wants permanence. “Maybe not when Alisa is on her way,” you murmur gingerly, brushing your hand under his jaw to pull him into a sweet kiss before slowly sinking down on his length.

Slowly, because had you matched the urgency you had while half undressing him, his girth would have caused tearing. “Fuck,” Lev hisses, instantly feeling your walls clench around him like velvet encasing glass. This was so much better than he ever dreamed of.

His large hands dig into your bare hips, the hem of your cutoff shirt draping over his knuckles as he cautiously guides your body closer and closer until his cock is fully sheathed inside. “Holy fucking shit.” Never in your life had you felt so full and you weren’t sure if it was the fact you were fucking Lev at all or the fact that his dick was pressing on your diagphram responsible for the moans leaving your lips.

A small laugh bubbles from his chest, either from being impressed or the fact that he was feeling the same, you were unsure. “You alright?” Lev is breathless, the question laced with subtle attempts to catch his breath as he brushes stray locks from your forehead. When you give a nod, he presses a chaste kiss to your swollen lip, swallowing the shriek that came from him starting to move you.

Surely, you had died and entered the ninth layer of hell because there was no way on earth riding your best friend’s little brother’s dick was supposed to be this fucking good.

Cautiously, with Lev’s guidance, your hips rise and fall, each gentle rock aiding in stretching you further and further. Lev lets out a groan, throwing his head back as you inadvertedly clenched tighter from the veins of his dick greeting your walls. As an opportunist, you took the chance to latch your lips along his exposed neck, allowing wanton need to flow through your teeth as you nibble at the flesh. The bruises that would surely come would only be the public reminder of the salacious act between the two of you.

Lev can feel his balls tighten because goddamn you weren’t letting up on the clenching. Were you even clenching? He was unsure at this point—maybe it was just you being naturally tight. All he was certain of is that he didn’t want the feeling of your pelvis smacking against his to ever end. And he wants to say something, anything, about how good your tight little pussy is squeezing him so tight and his badly he wants to cum inside you and how he waited to lose his virginity to you, but Lev just can’t make anything other than breathless moans leave his lungs.

Satisfied with the hefty, dark purple bruise forming on his neck, you ghosted you’re lips over Lev’s in the most intimate way you could muster, with the two of you sharing a single breath that spoke volumes over any words you could have shared. You’d waited for Lev, and you needed him to know that. Waited for the day that the two of you were able to overcome the awkward boundaries of meeting mutually through Alisa, waited for the day you could apologize for not waiting for him to come of age. Waited for the moment in which you could forgive yourself for dating some shit head when you could have been with the man you’d been pining after since he graduated high school.

But he knows this—Lev can feel it in the way you’re moving your hips on your own, taking his full girth and screaming his name. He can feel it in the way the muscles of your cunt are spasming around his cock as your end breaks through the surface and the way your head is falling to rest on his collarbone because you just can’t take the way his length is rubbing you in all the right ways. “‘M cumming,” you mumble out along his skin.

“Couldn’t wait for me anymore, huh?” He lets out a broken laugh before thrusting up into you, forcing the rest of your orgasm through. Your wails, the way your hips are meeting all of his thrusts, the way the bulbous head of his cock meets your womb—he can’t fucking stand it anymore. He’s so overwhelmed with everything, being swallowed by lust, that Lev cradles you’re jaw once more to pull you in for one more kiss in which there’s no more love. There’s no love, no lust, just you. “Where do you want it?” He asks, green eyes strangled with need because he was right fucking there.

“Cum inside me,” you whine. The words end all conscious thoughts as Lev grips your waist brutally, holding you in place while he fucks into you punishingly from below until you can feel his cock twitching as he paints the walls of your pussy with his emission. His pace slows gradually until he’s just barely moving, yet he refused to withdraw. He didn’t want to leave your warmth quite yet, especially not with the way your chest is heaving against his and the way you’re clutching at his bare arms.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the last four years.” He lets out a laugh, his cock softening along with his eyes while he looks at you lovingly.

“Me too,” you admit quietly, forgetting how events had even lead to this in first place. It didn’t matter anymore. The two of you stayed that way, flaccid dick remaining inside your exhausted cavern until Alisa walked in through the door calling both of your names.

Oh fuck.

[samwrights]

What would iwaizumi and tanaka do if they have a fem s/o who loves to wear short skirts and shorts with heels and thigh highs sfw & nsfw pls 😇😇 I LOVE your work it always makes me happy to read your stuff 😘😘

First off—I LOVE YOUR URL WTF.

Second off—I AM HEEEEEERE for this. Literally wearing heels rn. 😂😂😂

Third off—you make me happy wtf ily 🤧🥺

Slightly self indulgent content ahead. This is my aesthetic irl, and I’m only 5’3”, let me live 😂

Iwaizumi;

He swears up and down you were trying to kill him

Like yes, Iwaizumi is very aware that this is your aesthetic and you look stunning in skater skirts and distressed shorts.

The booties were also a very nice touch—elegant and punk yet sexy and flirty all at the same time.

The finishing touch was your goDAMN THIGH HIGH SOCKS.

You had them in every color to compliment both your mood, aesthetic, and outfit. But, primarily, you wore black, grey, and white ones.

Those goddamn socks™️

Half of him wanted to destroy those goddamn over the knee socks you owned. Because why the fuck did socks turn him on so bad?!

If you didn’t dress like this on the regular, he would literally have to leave you alone in public cause he can’t stop himself from popping a boner.

For awhile, that was a recurring issue.

Definitely had to fuck you in the car for relief.

Which was how he discovered he prefers the skirts over the shorts just so that he doesn’t have to waste a second undressing you when you get home.

Iwaizumi is a repeat offender of ripping your panties off.

No, he doesn’t care. He just buys you more.

The only thing that comes off after the day is your blouse—the way the fabric of your skirt just grazes his balls is necessity for Iwa at this point.

If you happen to wear shorts that day, yes they have to go. But there’s one rule for Iwaizumi.

“Socks and heels stay on.”

“But Haji, my feet hurt.”

“I want my back to hurt from you digging in those heels after I rip you in half.”

Tanaka;

Doesn’t get as crazy as Iwaizumi does, but he loves this aesthetic—it kind of matches his own.

Kinda gruff, kinda sexy, and creates a weird, juxtaposition that just suits the two of you.

It gives you both this strange, domineering power couple vibe and he loves it.

Tanaka knows you so well too—you dress depending on your mood.

While thigh highs and booties were nonnegotiable, your choice of bottoms varied between skirts and shorts.

Skirts were for days that you guys had to look a little more formal and, while they were on the shorter side, the thigh highs have the illusion of having more skin covered.

But shorts.

Oh baby.

High waisted shorts that barely covered your ass?? In addition to the thigh highs??

You’re just asking for Tanaka to fuck you.

Especially if the hem allowed a tiny pinch of cheek to show OOF.

He can’t help himself when he plays with your ass in public.

He can’t stop picturing you riding him, just watching your ass jiggle while your heels dig into the ground.

[samwrights]

If filter Friday is still going on...How about headcannons of a full threesome with our delinquent squad of Tanaka and Nishinoya 🥵🥵

🥵🥵🥵 oh BABY that is ALLLLLL I have to say about that. Wait, no I have to add I would let these two DESTROY me. Also, is this really hcs? I’m going with no. Do I care? Also no.

Warnings: threesome, spitroasting, DP, anal, dirty talk, poly, barebacking, cum dump???

Hahaha holy shit I wrote the warnings before the actual hc HELP. This ones long. Please get out your holy water, you’re going to need it.

Man, you had the best boyfriends in the world.

And it had nothing to do with the fact that Tanaka was balls deep in your cunt while you choked on Nishinoya’s dick.

Okay well maybe that was a huge part of it.

Outside of the bedroom, they were the most endearing, caring, loving partners you could ever wish for.

But in the bedroom.

Jfc—insatiable, salacious demons that were not satisfied until every single hole of yours was brimming with cum.

“Come on, princess, I think you can take more of me.” Noya teases as he weaves his fingers through your hair, coercing you to swallow more of his cock down your throat.

“Shit, she tightened up real good. Do that again, Nishi.” Tanaka groans, hips stuttering as you clench down on his erection. Fuck, he was so fucking close.

“Oh yeah?” The libero muses. “Like it when I fuck your throat babe?” When you don’t respond, because you can’t, Noya rams his hips as far as he can into your face, holding his dick down your throat until you can’t breathe.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby, milk my fucking cock.” Tanaka snarls through his grinding teeth as he glues his pelvis into your ass, emptying his load into your awaiting cunt.

At the same time, Noya’s spilling his own cum down your throat, not even remotely caring about the fact that your vision is becoming spotty because you can’t breathe.

Damn, you love your boyfriends.

Carefully, steadily, the two of the pull out, allowing tiny drips of their respective emissions to dribble out from your body.

But they are far from finished.

You slump against your guys’ shared, California king mattress, already exhausted from round one.

A throaty laugh leaves the libero as he scoops up your sweaty body closer to him, leaving your head in his lap next to his semi-erect cock.

While Tanaka gladly rested his own head on your ass like a pillow, angling down to slowly watch his cum trickle out of your pussy.

“Love you guys.” You mumble out when you finally find your voice once again.

“Stay awake, princess.” Tanaka warns, delivering a painless slap again the buttcheek he’s not laying on.

“You know we aren’t finished yet, babe.” Noya adds, one of his hands trailing to your free asscheek.

His middle finger is scooting dangerously close to your crack.

“C’mon, I’m tired,” you whine, “can’t we skip this part?” The boys simply let out a laugh.

“Not a chance! You’ve gotta have your fill of me too, baby. Look, I’m already hard again!” Noya denies you chance of getting sleep. Dammit.

After nudging Tanaka away, Nishinoya props himself up with a few pillows before settling you in his lap so he can grind his erection against your already cum-soaked cunt.

When you put up no fight, Noya slid home, wrapping his arms around your torso to hold your limp body in place. “God, even after Tanaka fucked you open you’re still so tight.”

“Get her ready for me, man, I’m gonna go look for the lube.” Temporarily, the spiker leaves you in the care of your shared boyfriend and best friend.

In accordance with his boyfriend’s wishes, Noya takes a moment to smear your juices over your anus, making sure to use a finger to start lubing the inside.

It used to bother you—anal is rather uncomfortable at first. But after months and months of taking these two bullheaded dicks, literally and figuratively, you found yourself rather enjoying being stuffed to the brim.

No matter how tired you were.

“You take us so well, [name].” Yuu praises, his free hand coming to brush your sweat-laden locks away from your face. “We love you so much.”

Noya’s sweet words are contradictory of the unsavory act of two of his fingers stretching out your asshole.

Tanaka returns, bottle of water-based lubricant in hand, slathering it up and down his hardened shaft while watching his partner spread the puckered hole.

“Ready, princess?” You gave a loose, numb nod before Tanaka carefully worked himself inside your back entrance.

Goddamn, no matter how many times the three of you did this, there was no better feeling than the two of you filling you up.

“Oh my fucking god!” You whined as you sink to the bottom of both of them.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna cum again.” Tanaka sinks his teeth into his swollen lips, trying his best to stave off his already building orgasm.

After granting them reprieve for a moment by staying still, Noya cautiously guides your hips up, allowing both of them to gawk at their slick covered cocks before sinking you back down.

They needed to you relax—and while you inherently comply, a part of you debates on continuing to clench down on them just so you can rest.

“Ready?” Tanaka asks, looking over at Noya, both of their eyes entirely blown out from the pleasure. The libero gives a nod before pulling your body flush to him.

The angle allows both of them to fuck into you with full force, the heads of their cock knocking into your throat.

How the fuck did you do this every day, you wonder as Tanaka’s punishing pace stretches out your anus even further.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum again.” The spiker howls—he just can’t keep up today. Which lowkey you’re a little thankful for.

“Yeah? Fill her up, Tanaka. Fucking paint her ass white.” That ends him entirely—Noya’s voice was a weapon.

Tanaka’s hips pause against your ass as he cums, the excessive dripping over on to the libero’s drenched cock.

Though he’s still, Nishinoya is fucking you with renewed fervor until you’re screaming because Tanaka’s damn dick is still in you.

“Cum, baby.” The latter murmurs in hot breaths into your ear, holding you up while Noya adds to the messy mix in your cunt.

[samwrights]

hihi sam~ cld i request reader teasing bokuto w a popsticle? like, reader bought a bunch of ice cream for them and bo and hes like “oo oo i want 1” hes making a mess out of himself and s/o is js there mindlessly staring cos like,,,H O T but they don’t know the way theyre licking their pops is so seductive and suggestive tht they dont realize bo is staring??? bo obv gets super TURNED and things get hot and heaty 🥵🥵

Y E S baby~ let’s go drabble for this one.

“Tarō, I’m home! Can you help me bring the groceries in?” You call out into your shared apartment, though you were already holding a few bags in your hands, keys in the other as you freed it from the tumblers of the lock.

“I got ya, babe!” Your boyfriend flits in from whatever room he was in previously, grabbing the bags out of your hands and placing them on your dining room table before heading back out to the car. It was a pleasant routine—Bokuto would always manage to wrangle up every bag from the car and bring it inside while you started on putting your spoils away. “Hey! You got popsicles!” He balks as soon as he’s back in the apartment while you’re putting the groceries in their respective spaces. Bokuto starts helping as soon as the bags are set down; he knows the faster things get put away, the sooner he gets to enjoy an orange popsicle on his tongue.

The two of you rest on your couch, windows open with a warm summer breeze filtering in as you both enjoy your treat. While you still had the wrapper hanging around the stick to reduce the amount of mess, Bokuto had remnants of orange juices all over his lips and chin as his put the small wooden stick in his mouth to clean off his treat. Despite it being sugary residue all over his face, the delight, the joy, and the light in his golden eyes sent a jolt of electricity down your back and straight into your core. Ignoring the sudden shock, your lips resume wrapping around the lime popsicle, slurping down what small dribbles around sliding down their frozen counterpart.

The sound, and the gesture, don’t go amiss from Bokuto. And as he holds the wooden stick between his teeth, it snaps with an abrupt crack as he watches your pink lips tenderly suckle at the green, frozen juice. Finishing the small amount left, your tongue pokes out before placing the wooden holder on your tongue, the earthy flavor mixing with sugary sweet and the subtleties are absolutely sending blood from Bo’s brain straight to his cock because all he can think about is his wood on your tongue. “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Want another one?”

“Another popsicle?” As you were about to shake your head no, Bokuto interrupts with zero hesitation.

“I got one right here for you.”

[samwrights]

I imagine soft late night/morning sex with Akaashi and/or Suga would be AMAZING. Like it probably starts with sleepy cuddling but escalated to cockwarming into soft loving sexy times 😍

I STAN 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

I could totally picture Akaashi being an avid fan of sleepy sex. Like both of you sleep naked and he’s all snuggled up with you and just wants to stick his morning wood in ya. He doesn’t even want to put effort into actually having sex, he just wants to feel you around him.

Wow that actually made me soft.

Suga on the other hand would totally have serious conversations with you while you’re just sitting in his lap, hard cock in your vag. But all the while he’s telling you how much he loves you and that you shouldn’t be insecure because you’re an amazing human that deserves the world.

[samwrights]

Serious question, how do you think Bokuto, Tsukki, Yamaguchi, and Asahi would react to a s/o who gets more turned on when they (meaning the guys) moan during sex?

I also think maybe Asahi and Yamaguchi would have to be told where as Tsukki and Bokuto would figure it out. Especially Tsukki.

Serious answer,

I feel like each of them would discover it but each circumstance would be different—Yamaguchi and Asahi might ask questions along the way but might not need it to be said outright. For example, Bokuto would probably figure it out almost instantly because, let’s be real, he would probably be incredibly vocal. Except for when he’s in a mood and uses sex as more of a comfort—he’d be a little more quiet and notice his partner isn’t as reciprocating as they normally are. At first he would probably think it’s his fault; but depending on how his partner handles the 67 different modes of Bo, they could work through the idea that it’s not because of him being him but because hearing him nearly grovel and groan about how fucking hard he’s gonna cum is the worlds sexiest sound and puts them in THAT mood ™️.

Tsukki follows along the same line—though would be more able to discern that him being vocal is a huge turn on for his partner. Though his moans and grunts are usually laced with form of degradation or praise (depending on his mood), he has a hard time differentiating whether it’s his words or his sounds. Imagine his surprise when his partner’s answer is, “it’s your voice, it’s just...you.” Clothes. Off. Now.

Yamaguchi, to me, would have a trembling moan that just makes him sound so utterly vulnerable that it would be impossible not to find it sexy. It would be something that he would be almost embarrassed about, something he would almost try to hide. But the more he tries to stifle it, the less his partner seems to be engaged. So he notices the declining enthusiasm, but can’t quite figure out why. He would ask if he’s doing something wrong. His partner, assuming they aren’t nearly as shy, would be more than alluring when pointing out they love hearing the trepidation in his voice when he’s holding back how much he loves feeling their warmth wrapped around his cock.

Asahi, oh Asahi. While not entirely the same scenario as Yamaguchi, I feel like Asahi would apologize often for being so guttural with his moans. It makes him feel dirty and salacious—anything but the gentlemanly partner he thinks himself to be. Despite the countless times his partner has reassured him that it’s okay, more than okay in fact, it might serve them both well if his partner focused more on forcing those noises and Asahi’s cum from him.