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Osamu: Onigiri/

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A Place for Everything, and Everything in Its Place

Get It to Fit

More to come

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Kageyama: That Smile of His /Stretch You Out /

Kita: Holding Hands/

More to come

Get It to Fit

Takes place in my college au where iwa/kawa/reader are attending the same uni and dating

Description:  Oikawa is just too long to get balls-deep in your pussy usually, but he's determined to change that today. He and Iwaizumi thoroughly fuck and ruin every bit of your body, making you just a thing for them to unload in.

This one is hella nasty lol

Warnings: f!reader, threesome, established relationship, BDSM, Size Kink, Cock Warming, Clothed sex (sorta), pet names, bondage, cum play, cumshot/swallowing/sharing, spit kink, degradation, creampie, light breeding kink, dirty talk, light dehumanization, dumbification, vaginal sex, oral sex (m!receiving), aftercare!!!!! Again, don’t do this stuff without proper negotiation and aftercare and safewords/actions

Sometimes, it really hits home just how fucked up you are, letting them do this to you. It makes your cheeks burn brighter than before, like a sunburn that fades down to your collarbones. The embarrassment is something you can’t voice, but they know you feel it every time you embark on a new sexcapade.

Oikawa is just slightly bigger than Iwaizumi in height, but he’s a few inches bigger dick-wise. You joked once that it was the gods making up for him not having an ass, and your ass was sore for a whole day from his retribution. You revel in it.

Issue is, while Iwaizumi fits balls-deep in your pussy easily, Oikawa can’t always bottom out. Sometimes he prefers your ass for that reason, and you both enjoy that arrangement, or rearrangement as your guts would say. But he’s been mulling something over for a long time, and he confronted you with his idea today.

He and Iwa and you all three had a day off. It’s rare, but it’s a Saturday so there’s no classes, and somehow your work schedules aligned perfectly too. So what better way to spend it, according to Oikawa? Watching a movie together. It’s nostalgic, since you all were at your weekly movie night when you first decided to date, and the first time you three fucked. You shouldn’t have been surprised, really, when he and Iwa brought out the cotton rope.

Fucking riggers, you think to yourself as you squirm. They’ve got you trussed up and immobile and sat deep over Oikawa’s cock, like a fleshlight. Your job is to keep his cock warm during the whole film, “Like a good girl,” Iwaizumi said.

Your legs are spread wide over Oikawa’s on the living room couch. Iwaizumi is to your right, just lounging into the pillows. Strong arms hold your waist from behind. They’re both fully dressed, which makes you more bashful to be fully naked, and you only stop squirming from it when Oikawa lands a harsh smack right to your thigh.

“Hold still, I’m trying to watch the movie,” he says, but his hands wander just enough that you know he’s busier watching you. His fingers skim over your stomach, the delicate ties over your hips, tug at them a little to the one on your clit stays tight enough to almost hurt. Iwaizumi is no better. Every time you glance at him, his eyes are on the screen. He’s so nonchalant. But occasionally, a strong hand will creep over and twist one of your nipples until you gasp, which makes Oikawa slap your thigh again in punishment.

The cock inside you isn’t making this any easier. He’s hard, but too big to take in, so you just get to fully sit your weight on a cock that’s pushing against your walls, gravity making the stretch painful. You can’t help the twitches of your cunt, trying so hard to gain satisfaction from the pulsing, burning dick spearing you, but Oikawa isn’t fucking moving til this movie is over.

Iwaizumi yanks on the rope between your legs to push a much louder moan from you as the rope upbraids your clit again, and Oikawa whispers in your ear.

“You know why you’re sat on my fat cock, baby?” he says, and it’s only halfway through the movie, but he and Iwa aren’t even trying to make it look like they’re focusing anymore. You shake your head.

“I want you to take all of me today, you’re gonna stretch out all good for me so I can finally fit inside.” His big hand presses on your abdomen, hips angling back to push his dick forward against your stomach so he can feel the head poking through your skin. He thrusts up, once, and you feel his cock knock into his hand and press your skin thin, and it sends your back arching into him. “It’s about time you let me bash that cervix in, little slut.”

Iwaizumi pushes his hand away so he can feel your stomach, and Oikawa presses you harder down, so you’re already crying out from the pain. But it’s so good somehow, the pain making you want more pain, more pleasure, more of his cock. You have to bite your lip to keep the pleads in, eyes tight shut.

“Fuck her Shittykawa, I want to feel you.” Iwaizumi says it, though you can barely absorb the words.

“Yes sir,” Oikawa purrs back, and then his hips are bucking, and he can’t get any deeper but somehow he manages, your whole body moving with him since he’s at a dead end. You feel the dick in you pressing harder against Iwaizumi, who’s pushing back hard enough to make you lightheaded. He spreads his thick fingers apart like a peace sign and the men both groan lowly.

“Fuck, baby,” Iwa swears.

You bring your head up from Oikawa’s shoulder and look down as best you can, and you can see how thin Iwa’s fingers are stretching the skin on your belly, just so you can see a big cockhead poke up. You almost orgasm on the spot, your legs twitching and head tossing back again as you moan. You know it’s fucked up, all the shit they do to you, basically using you to fuck into. But the agony they give you also gives you the knife edge of sharp ecstasy, stabbing your guts like Oikawa’s cock is.

Iwaizumi is almost in your lap with his he’s leaning over you, watching you tremble while Oikawa stills again.

“Trying not to beg, brat?” he coos, coming between your gaze and the ceiling. His fat fingers push into your mouth, and your tongue wraps around them without question. You’re almost mindless with it already, too busy feeling your walls flutter around your other boyfriend. His expression changes from sadistic to biting his lips trying to hold back a noise. You feel his hips rock and he shuts his eyes against the feeling.

It takes effort but you lift your head again to look at what made him get so affected. Your eyes are greeted with Oikawa’s hand wrapped around Iwa’s now free cock, rubbing just below the head. Iwa’s trying not to buck into it, because it’s just a dry fist and can’t feel great, but the hand moves a second later to spread your lips and delve inside a finger at a time. You can taste the salty musk of Iwaizumi, and you moan when all four fingers thrust in and out of your mouth, slathering them with your saliva. You work hard to cover the whole thing, every inch. Iwaizumi watches raptly while your mouth is thrust into, and he follows the hand when it withdraws. Oikawa spits into it before wrapping tight over Iwaizumi’s cock, which is throbbing at your display.

“Like that, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa moans into his ear, drawing out his name like a moan. “Both our spit mixing for you, to make you feel good so you can fuck my hand?”

“Shut the hell up,” Iwaizumi grunts, fighting a losing battle to stay still. You understand, hips rotating on Oikawa at the sight of Iwaizumi stripping his shirt off and grinding his hips, humping into the warm, wet fist supplied. His muscles ripple and he huffs little sounds full of sin. “Yeah? Feeling desperate for it huh?” Oikawa taunts, and Iwaizumi doesn’t have an answer beyond making their lips meet in a soaking mess of a kiss.

Seeing them so bothered is driving you wild, now lifting your hips as much as you can, only centimeters, and dropping down on Oikawa’s long dick. The pain has you gasping again, but with how much you’re dripping, you’ve crossed into the headspace where pleasure is pain and pain is pleasure and everything is bliss, and when you tilt forward your pearl is touched just right by the rope, and when you hear Oikawa moan into the kiss and feel his cock slam into you, you’re fucking gone.

Iwaizumi is taken by the sight of you coming apart. “Dirty slut came from watching us huh? Like the cock that you can’t take, bitch? You enjoying this?” he babbles. He may not last long either. Oikawa is still bucking into you, throwing you straight into overstim territory and groaning as the tears leave your eyes.

“So fucking tight, baby, so so tight,” he says between throaty groans in your ear. You can tell he switches to looking at Iwaizumi, still a beauty humping his cock to get off, head poking out of Oikawa’s fist on every upstroke. “Iwaizumi, come on her face.”

Iwaizumi is on his feet on the couch cushions before you know what’s happening. You open your mouth, asking for him to fuck your throat through your teary gaze, but he shakes his head. He props a foot up on the back of the couch, stroking and staring down at your wrecked body. “Next time, baby, but just leave your mouth open. Let me...” his voice is trashed as he is, so close, “I wanna paint you, taste it for me.”

You stay how he wants, you and Oikawa watching the sexy man above you, biceps and forearms bulging at the movement, hips pressing to fuck his own hand. Oikawa leans his head back next to yours. “Me too, Iwa-chan,” he says, licking his lips. “I want to eat it.”

At that, Iwa spreads his legs wide and kneels on the back of the couch over both of your heads. You leave your mouths open, Oikawa pinching your cheeks to widen your lips to get as much as possible inside. It stings but you don’t protest, wanting to be useful. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for his breath to hitch, eyebrows furrowed, teeth gritted, keeping his eyes open to watch. Strings of sticky come spurt from his twitching head, first hitting your cheeks, next in Oikawa’s mouth. Iwa strokes harder and lowers to your mouth to give you some too, and you close your lips over the head and suck, and he bites into his hand to muffle his oversensitive cries. You get a nice drink of his come, and that’s all you wanted. Oikawa leans over you, cheeks full, and you know he didn’t swallow his yet.

You and he angle your mouths together so Iwaizumi can watch as you push his come back and forth. It’s gross, drool and semen mixing and you slurping to gather it all up, licking over Oikawa’s chin to catch any remnants, and he cleans your cheeks of it to add to your French kiss. It doesn’t taste great, but you crave it, and you nearly forget about how full you are until Oikawa thrusts shallowly against you again. You gasp so loudly that you lose some of the come, and Oikawa tuts at you.

“Messy brat,” he says, and pushes all of his mixture into your mouth so he can clean up your neck. You have to focus hard on keeping the come in your mouth, cheeks full as you make eye contact with Iwaizumi.

Iwa is totally wrecked, blush coloring all of him, hand tight over his base. He can’t stop staring at the raunchy picture you and Oikawa make with every movement, worshiping and playing with his come.

Oikawa’s full mouth finds your nipple, and he sucks it in to swish the semen around it, and you gurgle through the mouthful you’re holding. Iwaizumi tilts your head back, pushing a thumb in your mouth until you open for him to look inside. Your eyes tear up when Oikawa bites hard into your skin, and Iwaizumi groans.

“I want a fucking picture of this,” he says, “of you two whores.”

You’re so aroused you can’t think, you can’t even fucking function. You feel like a thing for them to use like this, and you want them to keep using you forever, and oh my god you feel so fucking good just holding one’s cock and the other’s come like a good little receptacle that you’re clenching over Oikawa.

“So pretty,” Iwa swears quietly, sincerely, and the only thing keeping you still and quiet is that if you move or moan, you’ll lose the gathered come.

Oikawa pops off your chest, having collected all the spilled semen and thoroughly punished your soaking nipples, which cool from the air around. Iwaizumi puts his fingers there to feel them harden and to pinch them himself, jolts of pleasure making it even harder to keep your load in your mouth.

Oikawa’s ruffled, messy hair covers your vision when he leans over you too. He spits the rest of the come into your mouth, wipes the back of his hand over his lips. “You’re holding that so well, little slut.”

Iwaizumi nudges him to the side, and you can see him gathering saliva in his mouth before he spits it harshly into yours. “There, now you have all of our spit to mix with my cum.”

Oikawa is kissing the column of your neck and his hands are playing with your labia, around where he cock is still lodged. “Don’t you love it? Tell us how you love it.”

You can’t even make a sound with your mouth this full, so you just gurgle with it.

“Answer us, whore,” Iwa says, slapping your thigh. You’re making nosies deep in your throat, but that isn’t what they asked for. It’s impossible. They just love watching you splutter full of cooling, sticky fluids, struggling. Desperate. While Oikawa starts rotating your hips over his twitching cock, enjoying the scene, Iwaizumi plunges two fingers into your open mouth. He feels along your tongue and stirs the mess up, making you taste it more. You whine at them as best you can, totally at their mercy.

“Fine, swallow baby. You did well,” Oikawa allows.

You close your mouth around Iwa’s fingers to swallow the gunk, which takes several tries from the sheer volume. As soon as your mouth is clear, you cry out at how hard Oikawa is thrusting into your stomach again, going hard now that you can’t spill anything. Iwa is hard again from your torment.

“Time to kick it up a notch,” you hear Oikawa’s sexy voice say before you’re moved to the couch on all fours. Iwaizumi moves to make room for the movement. He sits in front of you, legs spread and stroking his cock again to enjoy the show.

“You know, you can get so much deeper like this,” Oikawa says, and proves it by how he sinks another inch in your dripping, aching cunt. You bury your own face in the cushions to muffle your scream, it hurts but it’s so intense and you feel so, so full, like there’s not enough room in your gut. His plush head shifts at his rotation, sticks against something deep inside you, and your eyes rocket open. Your jaw drops when he grinds his cock into it, eyes rolling.

“That’s your cervix little slut, feel it? Feel my cock slamming at it to make you open up more?” Your hands dig into the couch, back arching to feel it more. “Oh, you like that don’t you?” His voice has become placatingly sweet. “You pitiful thing, so empty all the time.” His hips pull back for the first time tonight, and slam right back into the space his cock vacated, hitting your apex hard enough to make you scream into the cushion again.

And again.

And again.

The pace Oikawa sets is the most brutal you’ve had to endure from them, but you’re dripping down your thighs at how good it feels. You can’t focus your eyes to see Iwaizumi inches in front of you from how hard their crossing, screaming from the rough pounding.

Oikawa leans over you, holding your hips and yank you back into his fucking. “You love this, don’t you? Tell me you love it,” he orders.

“Love it! Oikawa, Oikawa I love it I fucking LOve IT please,” you beg, insensate, voice trembling as much as the rest of you.

“Good, goooood, good fucking girl,” Iwaizumi groans, and you can hear the wet slapping sounds of him jacking off again. To the sight of you getting absolutely hammered. That makes you all the more worked up, more than the cock stabbing at the furthest point of you.

“Finally got balls deep, just to find out you’re a slut for it.” Oikawa always talks when he’s coming undone, ranting whatever fantasy, fucked up shit crosses his mind. “If I was trying to impregnate you, this’d be it. My come will pour right up in here,” his hand pushes on your guts again, and you both shudder at feeling his dick poke through again, “my sweet whore, and it’d have nowhere else to go but into that womb of yours. Want it? Wanna soak up my come and keep in in you for me? Be useful, be a good girl?”

Your sloppy lips and fucked-stupid mind can’t form full sentences, and you barely sound like you’re speaking a language when you moan and stutter over your begging. He’s thrashing your pussy too hard to expect coherency, and boy is he not getting it; you jolt like you’re electrocuted with every fuck, every word, feeling like you’re coming constantly. Oikawa’s pounding has the ropes tightening into your skin, rubbing you raw like his cock is, grating your clit and you scream when you come.

“Oh I love it, I love when you scream, I love you my good little slut,” he grits out between clenched teeth from the compression of your insides on the full length of his cock. “Coming-coming-come=urgh,” he groans.

He wasn’t wrong.

You feel the warmth spill into a new space, creaming your insides even more uncomfortably full. You must be frothing at the mouth, you think, because you can’t think, only feel.

Oikawa moans and rides out his post-orgasm on your abused, puffy cunt. You can feel him hit what must be the internal bruises, and it makes you want to go again, but you know you’d pass out for real at anything more.

Iwaizumi pets your hair back from your face. “Move, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa pulls out, and he makes a pleased noise at the sight of his dick. “She bled on me, look at that Iwa-chan,” he says behind you, and Iwaizumi whistles. You don’t have the energy or brainpower to react.

Oikawa squats on the floor by your head, muttering praises and thanks in between delicate kisses. “You took me so well, thank you sweetie. Hold on just a little more for us.”

You brace yourself just in time for Iwa’s thick cock to push into your throbbing insides, sinking so slowly. You feel his fist let go of the base of his cock when he’s deep enough for it to interfere, and you bite the fabric in front of you to be able to bear the sensations flooding your overused body. You feel every inch, every pulse of his blood, lubed up by Oikawa’s come in your slit.

Two deep, punishing strokes that have you yelling through your makeshift gag, and there’s more semen coating your insides. You scream at it, body tensing so tight you force his to stop fucking your vag through his aftershocks. Oikawa tries to stabilize you by continuing his whispers, but the feel of Iwa pushing against your resistance and fucking you anyway is too much for your fucked brain to handle, and you come again totally untouched. This orgasm hurts so fucking bad that you drool, you love every second, and Iwaizumi is moaning loud at how tight you’re choking his dick. You can’t tell what’s happening for a few minutes. You’re seizing, and drool pools on the couch between your teeth, soaking the fabric.

You come back down when someone undoes the last knot holding you immobile for their use, and two mouths press gently and slowly on the red marks left behind. It doesn’t overwhelm you, luckily, just brings you peace and some deep breaths later, you’re human again.

Praises come quietly from both parties, thanking you for pleasing them and for being so good, and you thank them in turn when your tongue cooperates. The first thing you do is wind your fingers in each set of hair, hauling Iwaizumi’s face to yours for a sweet, loving kiss. Then you swap him for Oikawa, whispering against his lips, “I loved taking your full cock, baby, thank you for bruising my cervix.”

You had to say it, and your cheeky smile makes Oikawa blush.

Iwaizumi laughs lowly. “You blush at that? Stupid, you just spouted all kinds of filth.”

“That was during sex! That’s different!” he pleads defensively, pouting. Iwa kisses it away. It’s all in good fun, so you three rib each other some more before moving the party to enjoy a nice, long bath. Hopefully that way you won’t have to feel the pain every time you sit for the next few days.

You feel it anyway, though. It’s a radiating soreness. Every time you sit down, you were thrown back to memories of hearing sexy groans while your cunt was broken open, and it makes you love being able to still feel it.

“We have to fuck that deep more often”, you send to your group chat.

Iwa replies almost immediately “I second that, Oikawa do it again so I can watch her scream.”

Oikawa replies just as fast. “Your wish is my command~ ;)”

You reply with, “Our neighbors must hate us by now.”

Iwa-chan: Lmfao yeah they do

Oikawa: At least they know our names B)

You blush really hard in class that day, and when asked why, you just hide your face.

Stretch You Out

(NSFW Kageyama thirst)

(I wanted some body positivity smut lol)

Kageyama is a fan of the simpler things in life.

Things like his beautiful S.O., kneeling, naked, chest flat on the bed, all for him. He wants to observe your twitching cunt, and who are you to refuse?

He’s just standing behind you, fully clothed and out of sight, and you feel the burn of his gaze on your pussy. You desperately want to squirm but settle for shifting your hips so slightly, wiggle of your ass inadvertently enticing the man.

He remembers when you first got together, and when you first fucked. Specifically what your pussy looked like then, a bit smaller and more compact. He loved that, too, don’t get me wrong-

But now? Now that he’s gotten you pounded into his shape, stretched and widened for him, lips more swollen from the months of regularly fucking you into the mattress? He admires it, presses his thumb between your labia to hear you whimper, and you feel him press the rough pad of it into your hole he’s made into his own.

He grins that devious little grin of his when he feels suction. Like your cunt knows who it belongs to, wants filled by him.

He knew his cock was fat enough to stretch you out a bit more permanently. But knowing and seeing will always be too separate things, and seeing the tangible, physical affect he had on your body from being the biggest thing to ever get inside your guts?

Priceless

But he doesn’t say that, just sticks his fat thumb into your cunt and-

Slaps one ass cheek so hard that your soaking walls clench around him while you gasp.

God he loves you.

Cigarettes

Based on the LOVELY @shoyokuns post found here (with their permission of course)

Lmao this got wayyyyy longer than expected, very h word

Warnings: (Intended as consensual but could be taken as non so I’m putting this on my DC list to be safe) Sadomasochism heavy, D/s in parts, human furniture sorta, pet names, mentioned (but desired) punishment, exhibitionism, begging (for it), f!reader, please read with caution

I just picked a couple characters from each category because I couldn’t make up my mind.

I’m so tired lmao I’m sorry for typos

Starts after the cut so I don’t hog your dash

“Makes you hold your mouth open for him to use as an ashtray:” (Oikawa and Osamu)

Oikawa:

Oh god do your knees hurt. He didn’t give you your kneeling pillow this time, so you only have the low-pile rug protecting your kneecaps from the cold floor. You hadn’t been waiting in your proper place once he got home like he wanted you, so you don’t get the extra comfort today. He’s clicked his tongue at you about it, but just settled into his grand reading chair regally, popping a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with one hand. The other was busy, running through your hair, until it suddenly yanked your head back. You stifled a moan about it, but you hold the position he’s put you in.

Those fingers plunge into your lips, spreading them apart and pulling on your tongue until it’s strained out of your open jaw. He fingers your soft insides a moment longer just to enjoy the texture, the obedience, before he focuses on enjoying his smoke fully, wiping your slobber off his hand on your own cheek.

Your eyes are trained on your king, sitting just to your left, soft lips wrapped around the end of a cigarette. A smooth inhale later, and he’s puffing the smoke out, and the tip goes back between his lips like he doesn’t want a single breath of fresh air to break up the nicotine.

Your mouth would water if it wasn’t so dry from being open for him. 

You watch the ashy end grow longer as he inhales, waiting, waiting, waiting for it to get to the right length. Barely blinking.

Your tongue stretches out of your mouth the moment Oikawa looks at you. He reclines his head on one propped up arm as he watches, smiling, hand moving above your expectant face.

One twitch of his wicked long fingers and dry, powdery, warm ash hits your mouth.

“Good pet, don’t want to ruin the new rug, do we?”

You might ruin it anyway with how much you’re dripping.

Maybe in a few minutes, once he’s done with this cigarette and you’ve swallowed everything for him, he’ll let you grind your aching sex on his shoe and let you swallow something else.

Osamu:

Good ashtrays don’t talk. Good ashtrays don’t move. Good ashtrays barely blink. 

You focus on your breathing, keeping it shallow, trying not to squirm your heel between your legs to get some relief. 

And Osamu is slouching forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, smoking. He’s had a long day. You can see it in the bags under his eyes. His hand running through his pretty hair as he sighs. He hasn’t acknowledged you once during this smoke session, slowly trying to relax the tension from his shoulders by rolling his head and filling his lungs with nicotine. His eyes are hazy as they stare at the ceiling. He leans back into the chair, blowing the smoke upwards like it’s aimed at something.

And there you are, being so good.

And being totally ignored. Because you’re a good ashtray for Osamu.

You love when he’s brooding like this, how threatening he looks with the cigarette hanging from his lips and his biceps bulging every time he shifts. Love being his good little ashtray to make him feel better.

You patiently wait, holding back how you want to whine the longer the ash gets on his cigarette. The more ash there is, the more likely you’ll breathe some in and choke on it, and ashtrays definitely don’t choke.

Being ignored is getting to you, stoking the fire in your belly, making you more and more needy. But you hold still. Waiting, hands on your knees, for everything he wants to give you.

You might just have to hold your breath! That isn’t his problem, after all.

He doesn’t even glance your way when his arm swings over, and you have to shift to catch the ash he flicks, mouth wide open for the ash like you're desperate for it, tongue swallowing it down immediately before opening up for more, hoping you weren't too obvious.

“You moved” he says, and when you see his smoldering, narrowed, dark eyes on you, you feel your thighs press together.

You’d point out that he missed, but that’d get all your orgasms ruined for a week.

“Wanna be a brat today, huh?”

Yes, that’s exactly what you wanted. 

Because sometimes even good ashtrays need punished.

And right now, you want to be used. Which is exactly what you’re going to get!

“Smokes during sex and puts them out on your tits:” (Sakusa, Kageyama)

Sakusa:

Some days it’s almost impersonal when he fucks you. On the days he’s stressed enough to smoke, which he thinks is nasty, he wants to avoid any further mess.

But he also wants to use your cunt until the stress totally leaves his shoulders and that space between his eyebrows can flatten.

So he’s conflicted between wanting you creaming on him, and wanting you to not spill a single drop anywhere.

However, he makes an exception.

He keeps his ashtray on the night stand so he can get relief via nicotine and via you at the same time. Pressing down on your torso with one huge hand to keep you against the trashed bedsheets, he stands between your legs fully upright, as little skin-to-skin contact as he can manage while he’s fucking you. This way, he can reach over to the ashtray when he needs to.

He can also watch the way your tits bounce with every plunge into you cunt, hard enough that it’s moving the mattress on the frame. He can hear your needy cries that it’s too deep.

But you aren’t safewording out.

You see the glow of the cigarette in the dim room, red hot, illuminating his face as he inhales the last time. He didn’t even bother taking his mask off when he got home, or undressing at all besides unbuttoning his pants to get himself off.

His eyes have been on your perfect, round, bouncing tits the whole time. Thrusting harder just to see them jiggle more. And he sees the little discolored scars from all the other times he’s done this. You know exactly what’s coming. After you hit an orgasm so fierce that your eyes roll back and your back arches like you’re asking for it, he presses the end of his cigarette right to your sensitive nipple.

The ash gets everywhere, but it’s the only mess he’ll put up with right now. His one exception.

Because with you thrashing for a whole different reason, he finally cracks a smile.

Kageyama:

He’s grinning the whole time. When he gets home and snatches you away from whatever you’re doing to throw you on the bed.

You bounce and laugh.

He’s smiling when he slips into your arms, kissing you breathless. And you don’t suspect a thing, when he leans up and his shirt is tossed over his head in a gorgeous display of firm muscles as his torso rolls with it. You salivate at the sight.

But he’s still smiling?

You catch on only when you’re naked and wanting beneath your boyfriend, and his fat cock is spearing you open, when he reaches for the nightstand.

“I just bought a new pack,” Kageyama says, and your eyes go wide. Now you know. He’s had a really, really shitty day. And his mood is sadistic.

When he’s slamming into you again and again, your legs wrap around his hips and your arms around his shoulders for some semblance of stability, sweat slicking your bodies with every down and forward motion of his cock, he’s smiling as he takes another drag of his cigarette. He lets the ash cover your bed in grey smears, the smoky smell mixing with the scent of sweat and the scent of Tobio, filling your lungs. 

And then he blows the smoke right in your fucking face to see you splutter and your eyes tear up.

He loves that look on you, so he does it again. Stops his thrusts so he can kiss you firmly. Forces you to open your mouth, where he holds you until you inhale his lung-full of smoke, choking on it. 

You wheeze when he shoves his cock forward again, not having a second to recover. He doesn’t give you an inch of space. Hell, you’re surprised he hasn’t singed your ear each time he takes another long drag.

When he finishes this cigarette, you’d wonder where he was going to put it out if your brain hadn’t leaked out your eyes and your pussy.

He’s still smiling.

And it only gets bigger when you feel the white hot mark of his cigarette on the delicate underside of your breast, and he presses it there harder as you silently scream, orgasming around him. Kagayama drinks up the sight, commiting every shudder and goosebump and cry to memory.

He wants you to feel this, his mark, every time you put on a shirt for weeks.

“ Tells you to hold out your arm in public so he can put it out:“ (Atsumu, Iwaizumi)

Atsumu:

It’s another fucking press conference, at least this one isn’t as big, only 5 or so stations represented in the interview hall. Atsumu has always been talented, and now he’s talented at smiling for the camera even when they get annoying. He’s got that chaotic fire hidden behind his teeth.

But he has you by his side! You’re holding hands, and that small connection to you always helps him breathe evenly. He glances down at your entwined fingers as a reporter lists out a question, brings your hand to his lips to kiss it with a tiny glance your way.

Cameras flash and you smile, leaning into his shoulder. He’s the sweetest boyfriend, truly.

He interrupts another personal question to address the reporters gathered in the room.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” 

After hearing scattered affirmations, he lets go of you briefly to cup his hand around the cigarette between his lips so he can light it. Inhaling, exhaling, he grabs your hand again. 

“Sorry, you were saying?” he tells them, winning smile made even more so by the attractiveness of him smoking.

You tried not to gawk at him. Atsumu could be a model if he wanted, it wasn’t like he didn’t have offers. And you love it when he smokes. The smell alone turns you on now. The man loves smoking while you blow him in back alleys and back porches, so your mouth waters automatically. You bring a hand up to your blouse sleeve, touching the last scar he made there. You’re his favorite person ever, and the best smoking partner he could ask for, always so obedient, trying not to thrash too much even when your skin sizzles from his cigarette butt.

And his sharp eyes notice you looking. You know that look.

He wouldn’t, would he? Not here.

If you ever think those thoughts about Miya Atsumu, be prepared to be proven wrong. Because the moment he finishes his cigarette, he turns to you, interrupting the reporter again.

“Sleeve”

A simple order, loud enough for the newscasters to hear, and you go a little pale. But you want it! But you don’t, too. There’s so many people, wouldn’t this ruin his reputation?

“Sleeve” he says again, a little more insistent. But he gives an out. “Unless, you don’t want to?” 

You glance at the reporters watching so closely, filming live. And at Atsumu, waiting on what you’re going to do, smirking wider every second, seemingly saying “tick tock, baby” as the cigarette threatens to burn away.

Before you can think too hard, you unbutton your cuff, rolling up your sleeve so he can see your smooth forearm.

And he grabs it tight in his other hand to force you still. Wouldn’t want it to be too messy! 

Sizzle

There’s a gasp you bite your lip bloody to contain as your body lights up with the pain, and you see cameras flashing, and smell a scent that reeks like burning flesh because that’s exactly what it is.

Iwaizumi:

There’s a new movie out!! Mattsun texted Makki and Iwaizumi about it last week, told Iwa to bring you and you’d all have a movie night at his place. Makki agreed to bring the popcorn if Iwa would bring the eye-candy. You, the eye candy in question, laughed, but Iwa sent you a glare. Your boyfriend called Makki a dumbass and refused until he promised to bring a carton of cigarettes for the three to share to make up for his joke (he had a new part-time at a place that’d give him a generous discount, he’d said).

You four pile on the familiar couches, you snuggled into Iwaizumi’s side with old blankets and a big vat of buttery snacks, and someone hits play on the movie. 

Iwa could never hold back from nicotine for long, not around those two. He mostly smokes socially, but Mattsun and Makki smoke all the time, and that’s why the house is already hazy when you and Iwa show up that Friday.

Makki makes another flirty comment that you giggle at, used to his antics, but you guess Iwa wasn't feeling his bullshit today since his hand tightened on your waist.

You press a kiss to the possessive man's temple, quietly murmering "only you, Haji," to soothe him, and it works a bit.

But you watch Iwa.

You supported his desire to stop smoking so often, but god does the man look ridiculously sexy in the dark room, soft glow of the cigarette hitting his strong fingers and strong cheekbones. You’ve missed the purse of his lips, too much like a kiss, the glow on his tanned skin, the casual air he exhales with. The quick and natural flick of his fingers into the nearest ashtray. You don’t realize you’re staring until his eyes catch on yours.

You flush a little, caught. But you keep looking. 

Iwa huffs a little laugh, holding the cigarette by his forehead as he grins at you. But it isn’t a kind grin, per say.

“You want it?”

That’s hard to deny when you’re squirming under his heavy arm. nearly itching at your skin. You remember when you were a little younger and he smoked like this all the time, how he’d turned you into a writhing little masochist beneath him.

You’re yanked into his lap, getting the attention of Makki and Matsun, feeling their eyes solidly on your squirming body. Maybe he's still feeling territorial, maybe he just wants to drive you crazy. Iwa’s hard chest is against your back, one hand still on the forearm he used to pull you with, while the other is holding the cigarette to his lips. You feel his lungs fill on a loooong inhale, and your own breath speeds up. You can’t help how you gush at knowing what’s about to come.

“Gimme your arm.” tone quiet.

You can’t, in front of Makki and Mattsun-

“Gimme your fuck’n arm.” still that quiet tone, 'quiet' not to be confused with a suggestion. It's a command.

“Beg, baby. If you’re so needy, then beg.” he’ll never get enough of embarrassing you, and then making you beg for the very embarrassment you blush about.

With a whimper, you turn your face away, and slowly, reluctantly present the arm he isn’t holding.

But it isn't enough.

There’s a small moan to the side of you, but you can’t tell who from. It makes your cheeks hot.

“Please, please put it out on me, Hajime please-”

A quiet ‘fuck’ from one of his friends, and you can feel Iwa smile cruelly into your neck.

“Good fuckin girl”

And he presses the butt hard into the skin of the inside of your wrist, the most painful spot manageable. The most possessive.

And then you’re forcing your arm still while the rest of your body strains away, going tense and jolting, legs kicking out, but just his hand on your other arm holds you tight in place. Totally at his mercy. You aren’t screaming, you’re moaning so loud your voice cracks, eyes rolling back and cunt tingling with the burn.

You swear if he touched your clit right now, you’d squirt all over Mattsun’s raggedy couch.

Requesting Rules (?)

Okay so I miiiight do some requests! I'm not opposed at all to people giving me ideas abt what to write, though of course I do reserve final decision on whether to write it or not, so I'm gonna jot down some rules here jic :)

Right now I'm mostly into Haikyuu, so Haikyuu-centric preferred

I'm not a fan of mommy kink, or really daddy kink either? Daddy isn't totally off the table, just very much not my favorite

Most other kinks are cool

Underage is a biggg no

Most other dark content is fine, however

I haven't written much dom!reader before but I'm def willing to stick my toes into that pool 👀

I'll totally write for female characters!!!! I'm very queer so that makes my heart happy

Fem!characters are cool too omg please let me write for fem versions of characters, I brainrot about this allll the time

I stick to mostly (if not entirely) female/AFAB/GN reader, just because that's within my experience and I don't really wanna speak about something I don't know

Smut is my bias but fluff is cool too sometimes

There's some characters I just don't know as well (like yamaguchi or yachi or yaku, etc.) that I miiiight not wanna write for. Shoot your shot tho lol just be warned

Just be vaguely polite and not too demanding abt it and I'm pretty chill

If I ignore your ask it's not personal!! Likely I just am not up to writing what you mentioned, or I'm not super familiar with the character or something and don't know how to say it lol

This'll probably be updated as I go

prompts: being tied up by tsumu and suna + “oh we’ll show you how it feels to be submissive, just sit back and watch. don’t make a sound, yeah?”

wc: 1075

warnings: smut, restraints, oral (m. receiving), fingering, spit, pussy spanks, daddy as a title, unprotected sex

a/n: @atsumuse​​ and i did a live collab on the dash as a mini event and wrote this lil bebe 💗

You were always told that your smart mouth would get you into some trouble.

Joke’s on them, your smart mouth landed you exactly where you want to be, naked and restrained, perfectly laid out for two of the hottest professional volleyball players in the country: Suna Rintarou and Miya Atsumu. Your wrists and ankles are tied to the bedposts with Suna on your right side, sitting on the edge of the mattress lazily stroking his cock, and Atsumu on your other, tucking your hair behind your ear and trailing kisses from your earlobe down to the base of your throat.

Kind of the opposite of a problem, really.

“Are you ready to behave now, slut?”

You nod and Atsumu’s fingers find your nipple and twist, making you yelp as his movements progress to open-mouthed kisses on your neck, sucking marks into your skin. Squirming in your confines, you gasp as he murmurs in your ear, voice deep and commanding.

“Wanna try that again?”

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