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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.

I think Iwaizumi is a grower than a shower 🙈

Imagine having iwaizumi's soft cock in your mouth and just deepthroating it until it gets hard. You're thinking okay I can handle this. Later while it starts to grow you feel it becoming thicker and longer and you're struggling to shove it all in your mouth. You look up to iwaizumi and hes smirking at you when he sees tears coming out of your eyes

And when you try to pull off of him, cuz his cock is poking right at the back of your throat gagging you, his hand grips your hair and holds you down. Pushing you further onto his cock so he slips down your throat.

He could cum at the tears and pleading in your eyes when you look up at him, begging him to let you go because this was not what you expected. You didn’t expect for him to start thrusting his fat, long cock into your mouth gripping the back of your head like a whore and fucking your mouth like it’s nothing.

sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

request: sakusa cumming inside u cause its cleaner (that’s what he tells u) but legitimately its cause hes goot big breeding on the brain and wants ur cunny stewped in his children

tags: breeding, creampie, slight dubcon

“no—omi—not inside…” you moan, helpless while sakusa pushes your knees to your chest and drills into your abused hole.

“it’s cleaner this way,” he grunts, only half-heartedly listening. instead he is concentrated on how tight your walls are around him, how your pussy sucks him in, like you want his cum inside.

“omi…please—” you gasp when he hits that spot inside you and your hands instinctively come up to grip his shoulders. “i’m not on birth control…i’ll—get pregnant!”

“i know,” he hisses, especially when your walls clamp down like a vice.

you can feel the tip hitting the opening of your womb every time he pushes into you. his thrusts are getting deeper, the way he pistons his hips and angles them to penetrate you. it hurts, it’s making you cramp, but you can’t help that your pussy is creaming around him.

maybe it’s just instinct, knowing that he wants to impregnate you.

“fuck, i’m going to cum,” he towers over you, tipping your hips back, “you better take it. you’re my little cumdump, aren’t you?”

you helplessly agree, legs shaking. you’d take whatever he gives you.

when he finally ejaculates inside of you, he does so in long, hot spurts and plugs you up with his fat cock. your whole body feels warm, and you think, there’s so much inside you, you’re definitely going to get pregnant.  

𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙳 𝙿𝚃 𝟸

Another massive thank you to Rhi @yanderexbabydoll​ for encouraging me and basically sparking this idea way back, and to everyone who waited for the part 2 and stuck through me rewriting parts like seven times!! I hope you enjoy ♡

tw mafia!big 4, noncon, branding, blood play, double pen, anal, cum play, overstimulation, one (1) hit, collaring, coercion, light mindbreak, it’s pwp and they’re all feral that’s all i can say .wordc. 6.5k+

horrid pt 1

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