Osamu Smut - Tumblr Posts

can i please get number 22 in the holiday prompts? it can be anyone from date tech or inarazaki please ? >:)

Did you know this is my favorite prompt? Thanks so much! I had fun with this lmao!

Datetech;

Takanobu Aone:

Nothing special, just themed for the winter season, probably only because you bought them for him in the first place.

Doesn’t understand the reason for themed underwear, it’s not like it’s on for very long anyway ;)

Kanji Koganegawa:

Would 100% wear more novelty ones, he’d buy them himself, cause he thinks their hilarious definitely the type to wiggle his hips around to make the bells jingle, and to make you laugh.

He love themed underwear, has some for every holiday haha.

Inarazaki;

Atsumu Miya:

Tsumu is going to make you want to see him all day long, teasing about how he got some underwear just for you to see, how hot he looks in em, and then boom! This monstrosity is staring at you lmao!!

He only got them to prank you, thinks it’s hilarious, atsumu normally goes commando anyway.

Osamu Miya:

Another man just wanting to be practical, they are the barest minimum of holiday cheer, and you still had to go out and get them for him, or else he’d just have plain black boxers

Rintaro Suna:

He’s either full troll about it or no effort once so ever, so either the worst novelty dick cover you’ve seen, or just like a fir green/Santa red pair that look like all the other briefs he has.

Now wait a minute kitsune osamu breeding you👀

Samu samu samu!!! Yes!!!! I’m a total hoe for the Miya’s lmao

It started innocently enough, you two had come across some baby shoes while shopping, and the warm, longing look in your eyes awoke something feral in Osamu, something that said he needed to put a baby in you! Now He had been rutting into you for hours, you belly already swollen from his seed as he’s desperate to pump even more inside, “gonna look go good with my pups baby,” he coos warmly before filling you to the brim again.

This is for @nope-i-dont-think-i-will ,,,, my bestie ina tesi!!!!!<333

Kinda Dirty Alphabet w/Osamu

• A - aftercare (obvs) this man is all over aftercare, he will make sure that you are good to go before he let's the both of you sleep.

• B - body parts,,, he has many but he loves to grab your waist and put his hands on your belly.

• C - choking,,,, he's down for it he likes to feel the fact he makes you squirm under him from a light squeeze

• D - deep throat,,, he's so big you will cry,,, he makes sure to give you a few breaks but he will keep going until you swallow

• E -. Eating out,,, he's amazing at eating someone out, he perfers to go sweet and slow, but if you want rough, and fast he will give

• F - fertile,,,, so fertile, he makes sure you know he's gonna have baby's with you

• G - grabbing,,,,, he's so grabby, grabbing anything on you,, sexual or not

• H - holding hands,,,, he always wants to hold hands, anytime he sees your hand empty he grabs it

• I - I'm social,,,, this baby boy is all about being social, he has so many friends you can't count

• J - jiggle,,,, (for the chubbys) he loves it he's head over heels for anything that jiggles, belly, thighs, boobs, etc,

• K - kissing,,,, he loves the feeling of your lips against his, he cant get enough

• L - love language,,,, he's def a physical touch person and loves to buy you things

• M - marriage,,,,,, he obvs will be is the best hubby ever,,,,, masterbating- he will let you but he's gets to hard seeing you enjoying yourself alone

• N - no nut november,,, you both fail, as he can't keep his hands off of you or stop touching you, he can't even take 3 days with touching

• O - opposite gender,,, female Osamu is the same way as a male,,, always doing this and that for you and everything, she will make sure that every sensual need is taken care of

• P - positions,,,, he always down for missionary. He doesn't mind if you switch it up but he usually goes for missionary

• Q - questioning,,, if you come out to him he will accept it and will do anything to keep you happy

• R - rough,,,,,, only if you ask for it, or if he's angry

• S - sex toys,, he owns maybe a few, a cock ring, dildo, clit vibrator.

• T - thighs (<33) he's a sucker for the thighs, kissing, biting, grabbing, laying his head down. Anytime he can he uses your thighs.

• U - uncomfortable,,,,, he will stop at any moment for you,, even if he was chasing a high, he will stop for you

• V - vigorous,,,, he loves to show how strong he is to you,flexing,,,,seeing you blush at his muscles makes him proud

• W - woo,,,, he loves to woo you. He feels the need to everytime he sees those beautiful innocent eyes he can't control himself,

• X - X-rays (mhmmm) he's packing, atleast 6-7 inches soft and 9-10 inches hard.

• Y - yearn,,, he yearns for your love and affection and everything about you

• Z - zing,,,, he feels your his one and only and treats you that way, showing you love in the bed he hasn't with others, treating you out making you not pay for the food

(I feel it's too centered near women but it's the first one I wrote)

The Prettiest hq House Husbands - NSFW

Featuring: Timeskip!Osamu, Kenma, Kageyama

Warnings: discussions of house husbands (so some mention of gender roles/stereotypes), breeding kink, pet names, mommy kink, daddy kink, dacryphilia (crying kink), pegging, Reader gets referred to as doll, mommy, baby

Not beta read- we die like men

Osamu

Man’s serving you a bomb as meal every night when you walk in the door

The Bento Box King

We know Osamu drinks his Respect Partner Juice, he never makes you feel bad about being the bread winner cos he’s not intimidated by your success

In fact, he actully gets off on the kept man lifestyle

Definitely wants to breed you if he can so you have even more to come home to

Ugh and the hands on him 😩 we’ll get to his fingers later big and veiny, but well-kept because they’re his tools

But don’t get it twisted, you may make the money but he’s in charge

He’ll fuck the stress of the day away however you like

Osamu knew it had been a long week for you. Meeting after meeting, late night calls and early mornings in preperation for a major deal that was about to be signed. So after he’d taken your coat and your briefcase, your loving husband had taken you to the kitchen, where he’d spent all day in the apron you’d bought him, whipping up your favourite meals.

It was there that he’d pulled you back to his chest by your upper arms, and licking at your ear said ”Let me take care of you, doll.”

So here you are bent over the kitchen counter, ass spread by large hands that massage and flex in your soft flesh as your gorgeous husband tongues sloppily at your hole. He didn’t even take your jacket off. Just pulled down your slacks and the pretty panties he’d bought you and set to work turning your legs to jelly. You try to find something to grab onto, but the marble counters leave your hands scratching at the tops.

The filthy sound of his eager tongue and your desperate cries fill the room. You can feel the vibrations of him groaning into you and god does it sound hungry. One of your hands moves from the counter to fist his hair pulling him deeper. His tongue flexes and relaxes against you, the motion allowing him to wiggle inside you and you swear you wanna cum right then.

”Fuck, Y/n.” Osamu pulls away to moan, and you want to cry cos god you were so close. You can practically feel his eyes on your sex, watching your hole twitch around nothing. He stands from behind you, pulling your hand from his hair, and turns you to face him. In the same breath you feel yourself lifted, ass landing in the spot your face just was and you feel your face warm at the drool you feel beneath you.

”Daddy.” You whine, trying to pull him in for a kiss. And your his pretty baby, so he gives in and lets you taste yourself on his lips and tongue for a moment. Your hips shift desperately, wanting more of that delicious friction you’d had before. Osamu chuckles at your movement and grabs your hips to still them before pulling away.

”Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna fill you up nice and good.” He promises, pulling at the ties of his apron.

Kenma

Not really the kind to keep house super hard, but he does try cos he’s knows you’re busy and tired 🥰 We sTAn A cONsidErAte KiNG

Works from home on his stream but that’s it and you make sure he remembers to sleep

A good pet for you when you’re stressed

He’s still very good at reading moods so knows just what you need when you get home, whether it’s take out, a cuddle sesh, or him on all fours hard and waiting

PEG HIM! HE WANTS IT SO BAD! 😩

Such a pretty crier

Especially when he’s needy for his mommy

You twist your fingers deeper, scissoring them gently to hear Kenma’s sweet cries once more.

”M-mommy.” You can hear the hic in his voice as he tries to hold back his tears. That won’t do. But you shush him still, brushing locks of his hair back with your free hand.

”Shh. It’s alright kitten. Mommy’s here. Gonna make you feel real good for me.” You follow up with a thust of your fingers, curling them inside him. The yell he lets out is music to your ears.

You fold yourself over his back so you can lick at the shell of his ear. From here you can also see the flush of his cheeks, eyes squeezed shut at the pleasurable assault of your fingers. The slick sound of it fills the room. It this position on him you also know he can feel the thick shaft of the strapon pressing against his ass. A promise of what’s to come. Kenma whimpers beneath you and you can feel his asshole clench around your fingers. He’s getting close. You pick up your pace and if you had neighbours you might have felt bad about how much noise Kenma is making now. Instead all you feel is bone deep satisfaction and the dizzying feeling of lust that makes you want to bury yourself in him now. But you know it’ll be so much sweeter if you make him cum first.

”I can feel you, kitten.” You groan, lips sliding down to the column of his neck to lick at the sweat there. You feel him nod, too far gone to find his words, and that definitely won’t do. ”You know what to do if you wanna cum, kitten.” You say with a warning tone. ”Only good pets get mommy’s strap.”

”No, please!” It’s a desperate cry. You can feel his hole twitching as he tries to hold off on cumming. He’s so desperate for you to fuck him. ”Plese mommy! Please can I cum?”

You chuckle into his neck, your fingers unrelenting as you fuck him. His entire body is trembling beneath you.

”Mommy!” It’s a scream this time.

”Cum for me.” You say finally, sinking your teeth into the flesh of his neck but Kenma shudders so violently beneath you that you have to let go for fear of hurting him more than you planned to tonight.

Kenma’s sobbing as he cums and you can hear the thick splat of it on the sheets. His hole is a vice on your fingers and even with the lube you struggle to slide them in and out of him. But you manage to fuck him through his orgasm and when he finally stops cumming his arms collapse, head buring itself into the pillows as he tries to catch his breath.

”Good kitten.” You hum, sitting back on your knees. You pull your fingers out of his sloppy hole and watch in clench around nothing. And despite the tremors of his orgasm still running through him, Kenma still reaches his shaking arms back so he can spread his cheeks for you before you even have to ask.

”Such a good kitten for me.” You smile down at him as you tap the head of your strap against his hole.

”Thank you mommy.”

Kageyama

Another observant boy who is also good with his hands

He shows love with his actions- ie. Bringing you snacks when you have a big deadline, staying up to make sure you get home.

Plays volleyball and fucks you, and honestly that’s perfect for him And wHEN He REtiReS, Oh Lord

Low key wants to breed you too but would never ask, so you learn to be just as observant

Give and take stress relief, he blows your back out and you swallow his soul through his dick

Kags is a very proud person, so when you do manage to break him, oh is it sweet

Only lets you peg him on very special occasions, would much rather be overstimulated

”Fuck.” Kageyama groans above you, hands fisted in your hair as he thrusts into the wet heat of your mouth.

You hollow your cheeks and relax your throat, taking his cock all the way to the base and your rewarded with the prettiest moan. Kageyama’s dick isn’t terribly thick but it’s long and the first time you’d managed to take him all the way into your throat he came then and there.

”God baby, taking me so fucking well.” He babbles, lost in the sensation of your mouth on his cock. You glance up at him and his head is thrown back on the sofa, bare chest heaving as he pants. You moan around him at the sight and his hips jump in response making you gag, but that doesn’t stop him. Tobio fucking loves it when you gag and choke on his dick and he thrust again in the hopes that you’ll choke some more.

You’re making a mess in his lap as you suck him, you drool slidding down his backs and covering his lower stomach. You can feel the bubbles of spit on the side of your face and the tears sliding down your cheek. If it were anyone else you’d be worried about how unattractive you must look right now, but not with Kageyama.

”Look so fucking pretty sucking me off baby.” You look up at him, and his blue eyes return your gaze with undisguised admiration even through the haze of pleasure. You pull off him, hand replacing your mouth on his dick.

”I’d look even prettier covered in your come.” You tease with a smirk, and Kageyama whimpers in response.

He pulls you back to him with the hands still twisted in your hair and you double you efforts, sucking his head and jerking the rest of his shaft. Kageyama lets out a hoarse cry. His hips move jerkily in your hands and mouth as he gets closer and closer to his peak.

”Y/n, baby. I’m gonna cum- gonna cum.” He chants before his entire body hunches as he fills your mouth with his seed and you pull of so you can feel the heat of it splash against your face and neck, hand milking his cock over yourself. As he cums the only words falling from his lips is your name.

His cock twitches in your hand one last time and Tobio collapses back into the sofa. There he catches his breath in the wake of his orgasm, but he raises his head just in time to see you swiping at the cum on your face with your fingers and sucking the into your mouth.

”So fucking pretty.” He whispers as he watches you, lips parted in want. You simply giggle at him and climb into his lap.

”Gonna make you cum inside me next. Wanna get fat with your cum Tobio.” You whine and his eyes widen. Between your thighs you feel his spent cock twitch to life, already half hard again.

Honorable Mentions - Akaashi, Asahi, Tendou, Lev, Yamaguchi, Oikawa, Sakusa, Suna, Hinata, Suga, Aone, Ukai Jr.

Feel free to change my mind about anyone not on this list 😏

Do yourself a favour and binge this like I did cos whew 😮‍💨

a bit dirty - ch1

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. ch1 | next [masterlist]

// maybe a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6683 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, cute flirting before, drinking but not drunk sex, unprotected sex (NO PREGNANCY TROPE I PROMISE I SWEAR FOREVER), thigh fucking, slight missed connection trope, names names names pet names a million pet names, minimal foreplay (unless you count flirting as foreplay), afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you are completely aware that you should not be out right now.

but you are.

and you could chalk that up to your horribly persuasive friends and their constant nagging and pleading for you to tag along with them tonight or your distaste for saying no to people and disappointing them or even a mild fear of missing the played out events of a really great night in your head.

the truth is, it doesn't matter the reason that you’re out despite how kinda stupid it is. the fact is, you know that it’s a bad idea to be entering a club at 12am when the alarm in your pocket is set to 6am, but you’re doing it anyway. sure, you were lightly bullied and, sure, you keep offering deprecating and pity-me sentences about how you really shouldn’t be out, but you’re still there. you’re still out. 

you’re still hovering over a high-top table in the corner of the club a few steps from the bar screaming over loud music, “i told you guys that i didn’t really want to drink tonight.” yet, a drink is, indeed, thrusted into your hand. the glass bottle is cool against your palm, fingers smudging the condensation on the label as you hold it tight.

“if you don’t want it, i’ll drink it,” your friend offers, red jacket bunched around his wrist as he extends his hand towards you, palm shaped so the bottle would fit perfectly against it. you shake your head, bringing it to your lips, taking a sip, and then another, and then another. 

“this is such a bad idea, kuroo,” you drone, exhaling as you take another sip.

“yn,” kuroo says abruptly, one hand placed on your shoulder, fingers squeezing to call you to look at him, “we know.”

“do you want to go home?” akaashi asks, calling your bluff or genuinely concerned, you’re not completely sure. he turns to another member of your friend group for confirmation and a bit of support, “bo, should we just take her home?”

you stick your hand out in between them as if this would stop the conversation from progressing or any decisions from being made. you shake your head, “no. no, i don’t want to go home.”

“then maybe loosen up and act like it,” bokuto implores, hands on your shoulders, leaning his definitely not a tiny bit of weight against you, bouncing along with the beat of the song. 

“i just feel like if i keep saying it’s a bad idea,” you reason, narrowing your eyes as the sentences finishes in your head and you know that you’re going to get flamed when it actually comes out of your mouth, “that it makes up for the fact that i’m out because i feel bad for it?”

definitely not.

yeah, i don’t think so.

nice try.

bad logic, yn, really bad. 

you groan, “okay, okay. fine. actually having fun. because i’m out,” you point at akaashi and he nods back at you, “and so why not just enjoy it instead of making myself miserable for being out?”

“and us,” tsukishima notes, “don’t forget us. you’re also making us miserable.”

kuroo throws his arm around tsukishima, runs the tops of his knuckles over his hair as he laughs, “you’re always miserable. you don’t count.”

“tch, knock it off,” tsukishima swats at kuroo’s fist so violently that he almost falls over.

“yea,” you say in an attempt to convince yourself, “just have a fun time and don’t think about the fact that i should probably be on my way home right now.” 

akaashi bumps his shoulder into yours, the one that bokuto’s fingers are still tightly grasped around. “you know how to have fun, yn,” he reminds you, “laughing at those dumbasses is usually a good start.” akaashi nods towards tsukishima and kuroo trying, and failing, to contain their back and forth, bumping into the table and spilling bokuto’s drink. 

it is a good start, you suppose. you can’t help but laugh, actually, as they start yelling at each other, blame spewing and insults flown. “and then,” akaashi says, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to your drink. he raises his own, waits for you to do the same and then lightly taps the neck against yours. you raise the bottle to your lips, tilt it upwards, and don’t bring it back down until the only weight in your hand is the empty glass.

“c’mon, idiots, you owe bo a new drink,” akaashi shouts over the already loud club and added bickering, “and we need a refill also.”

they either don’t hear him or choose to ignore him. neither tsukishima nor kuroo even bat an eye to akaashi waving his hands to get their attention or the dramatic sigh that he forces. bokuto notices, though, nods to the bar as he says, “c’mon, we will go get new drinks. they won’t even notice we’re gone!”

your tiny nod is confirmation enough. bokuto grabs your wrist, gently pulls you through the mass amounts of people to the bar, moving through the crowd much easier than you would’ve on your own. sure, you could maneuver in and out of people, but bokuto could barrel right through them, polite enough to offer small sorrys and excuse mes, but assertive enough to keep moving the entire time. 

bokuto presses up against the counter, leans over the top to order whatever drinks he’s ordering, and then waits patiently while the bartender grabs said drinks. you stand next to him, akaashi on the other side of bo, a bit of space between you resting with your lower back on the edge of the countertop and the horde of people dancing in the vicinity. 

the bar is a bit of an oasis, somewhat more organized than the conglomerate of different groups that occupied the rest of the venue. there is a patience here that you don’t get in other parts of the club, a knowing restraint that you welcome like a breath of fresh air. you scan the length of the bar, the groups of people inhabiting the same space that you are for the same reason that you are and among them, a man with gray hair and a tight black t-shirt who keeps looking over in your direction. 

everytime you try to sneak a private glance, he’s already looking at you, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second before pretending that he was looking somewhere else. you’re suddenly feeling much warmer than before, perhaps it has something to do with the club lights or the large gathering of people or the way the two guys that are with him keep nudging him in your direction. 

“that guy keeps looking at you,” bokuto notes, pointing very blatantly at the man across the bar. “you should go talk to him.”

“no way!” you instantly reject the thought. 

akaashi leans forward, peeking out from the other side of bo. “step three of having a fun night out? getting railed by a mystery guy who keeps throwing you looks,” akaashi explains, head nodding, no inclination of sarcasm. 

“you said talk to him,” you say, glance thrown over your shoulder just in case he’s already gone. that would solve a lot of your inner turmoil right now. but when you do look, he’s looking right back. this time, he keeps eye contact with you for an entire second before pulling away.

“right, well, and then fuck him,” akaashi says, mischevious smile, shrugging his shoulders as if it were obvious.

“i don’t do that,” you explain. 

“you haven’t done that,” bokuto says, “there’s a difference.” 

“look, you’re out, you’re trying to have a good time, that hot fuckin’ guy is staring you down?” akaashi says, naming all of the reasons that he believes this is a great idea, “and the four of us are here if something is weird. this is the perfect opportunity.”

“no, no,” you shake your head, “besides, i’ve gotta finish this drink and tsukishima and kuroo are probably-”

bokuto taps his card against the machine as you babble on excuses and grabs the drinks from the counter in the middle of your sentence, handing one to akaashi and holding the other two. “oh nooo,” bokuto whines, “turns out these drinks are for me. better find someone else to buy you a drink.” he makes eye contact with akaashi, nods towards the direction of where you all came from and starts moving that way.

you move to follow them, but your feet don’t move, heart beating against your chest as your core tells you that if you hesitate for only a moment, they will be out of reach and it’ll actually be easier to just sit here at the bar. and if something were to happen while you were abandoned by your friends, if the buff looking tall guy a few feet down the bar decides to talk to you, then it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have ever happened to you. 

it’s not just that you don’t move, it’s that you make the very conscious choice not to move. you take a deep breath and check one more time that he’s still there, that he’s still looking at you, and he is. you let your stare linger this time, you have no other obligations or people to talk with. it’s you, all alone at this bar, waiting for one particularly attractive man to make his way over to you and talk to you, you might as well make it obvious. 

with him are two other guys, one that looks eerily like him but with brassy dyed hair and a louder personality and another one with a black mask on and dark, curly hair. the blonde one nods in your direction, pushes him with his shoulder once and then twice and then a third time. you think that this will cause a reaction, but it doesn’t. 

you’re almost ready to concede, make your way back to the high top and have a good night without going out of your comfort zone, but the other guy leans over and says something in his ear, points at you with his chin, and then pulls the blonde guy away and leaves the gray haired guy alone just like you. 

for someone who didn’t make his way over to you the first three times someone shoved him in your direction, it doesn’t take him long to walk over to you once he’s alone. you wonder if you’ll have to say something first, what will you say first, what should you say first?

“did your friends leave ya too?” he asks, and if you hadn’t downed your first drink and you weren’t as nervous as you were, you might’ve noticed how out of place he sounded as well. 

you laugh, offer a short nod as he takes place next to you, leaning against the bar the same way you are. you’re rooting through your brain to concoct an adequate response, one that will entice him to stay, continue a conversation, let him know that you’re very interested while also not telling him that outright, but all of that thinking is rendering you currently silent.

still, he tries again, asks something much easier, “can i buy ya a drink?” 

you nod again, turning towards him this time, but not before catching a glimpse of his profile, his chest, his forearms tense with his fingers gripping the edge of the counter. tonight was definitely not a mistake. you don’t care how early you have to be up tomorrow. “only if you stick around for a dance too,” you say, hand ghosting on said tense forearm, testing the waters, voice projecting so that you’re sure he hears you.

he laughs this time, gorgeously genuine smirk appearing along with it. “i don’t really dance,” he admits, “but to talk to ya a bit longer? i’d be stupid not to.” his eyes flicker down to your lips, the way your tongue peeks out for just a second and your teeth scrape against the bottom, and then back up to your eyes, wider than before but just as lust-stricken. 

he turns, flags down a bartender. on their way over to the two of you, he leans down, “what can i getcha?”

“i’m not picky,” you respond, “i’m pretty adventurous, actually. i like trying new things. i feel like you can learn a lot about someone from drinking their go-to drink.” you feel like you’re rambling, but he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing on earth. 

he leans over the bar, orders whatever he orders, and then quickly returns back to your side. “so what did you order?” you ask. “what will i be drinking?”

“spiced rum and coke,” he calls back, “what does that say about me?”

“hm?” you question, tilting your head.

“ya said that ya can learn a lot about someone from their go-to drink. what does that say about me?” he asks, smiling.

you purse your lips, mulling it over for a second. “i think it says that you like the classics, but with a more exciting twist,” you say back. “like-” 

he wraps his arm around your waist, cutting you off as he pulls you closer to him, moving you out of the way of some far too drunk couple that was knocked in your direction, drink sloshing right where you were just standing. “sorry,” he says, very slow to remove his hand from your waist, but you lean back into it. 

“don’t apologize,” you say, staying pressed up against his side. “practically saved my life,” you joke. “if the roles were reversed, you’d be drenched right now. i’m not that fast.” he raises his eyebrows at your sentence, but you don’t correct yourself, just avert his gaze and laugh at yourself. “did you have that all planned or?” you ask.

“nope,” he says, arm still around your waist as he pulls his card out of his pocket to pay. he hands you one of the drinks. “just the stars aligning or somethin.” 

the spice of the rum is nice, warming, a bit more flavorful, an unexpectedly fun twist to a classic. you smile up at him. “now you owe me a dance,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor full of people. 

he doesn’t hesitate, slides his hand down your side, digs his fingers into the fat of your hip, and nods in the same direction as you. “lead the way,” he says. he follows you as you weave through groups of friends and drunk couples until you find a somewhat less crowded corner. the music isn’t as loud here, a bit further away from the speakers and the action, but it feels perfect for the two of you. 

dancing is a generous word for what the two of you are doing. it starts more like swaying, his hand still on your hip, your hand now on his shoulder. you’re both still chained with mostly empty drinks in one hand, taking small sips here and there in between half-lidded eye contact and half-steps closer to the other. 

“is it bad that i want to get rid of this ridiculously over-charged drink so that i can put both of my hands on you?” he asks, leaning down to place his lips against your ear despite the fact that the music isn’t necessarily loud enough to warrant that. you shake your head, his lips brushing against the side of your cheek as you do, and then you let it fall onto his shoulder. 

you reach out, feel alone guiding you as you set your half-drank cup on a random table. you clasp your hands around his neck, allowing yourself to lean backwards to take him all in, pretty gray eyes, hungry look in the depths of them. you tangle your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. you really want to kiss him.

the hand that just held his drink is colder, shocking almost as it smooths down your lower back, fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt, toying with the fabric and the zipper on the side. now you really want to kiss him.

he’s staring directly into your eyes as his fingers ghost over the lace of your underwear. he doesn’t pull away at the feeling, doesn’t stutter or retreat or dive deeper, but pushes his fingers underneath the band, dull nails scraping against the soft skin of your hip. you really want to kiss him right now. 

he’s so focused on touching you, on teasing you, on watching your adorable expression as you try to keep yourself composed, that you decide to take matters into your own hands, pulling him down into you and pushing up into him, lips smashing against his, fingers threading into his hair. 

you talk in the same instances that you breathe, in between long, sloppy kisses and roaming touches. “i don’t normally do this,” you admit. “am i supposed to say that?” 

“i wouldn’t know,” he says back, out of breath before pressing a kiss into your lips again, speaking against them, “i don’t either.”

“looking like that?” you ask, just as out of breath as he is, “your hands confident as that? yea fuckin right.”

he pulls away for a real breath, chest rising and falling a bit heavier than usual, tongue swiping over his lip to swallow the spit you’ve left there. “honest,” he replies.

you shake your head. you still don’t necessarily believe him, “i suppose i don’t have to trust you to go fuck you in the bathroom.”

he tilts his head, a huge smile on his face now. “oh?” he questions, “is that how far this is goin? ya thinking that far out?”

you blush, instantly warm against his touch. “well, no, i- i didn’t mean-,” you stutter.

“i mean, i suppose it doesn’t have to be that far out,” he says, low, as he brings one hand up and places your chin between his fingers, demanding your eye contact. “it could be in the next thirty seconds if ya want.”

all you can do is nod, but that’s enough for him. he’s dragging you by the waist to the other corner of the club, nodding towards the only single-room, open bathroom and you nod even more dramatically, following him inside. 

he locks the door behind you and his hands are instantly back on your body, gripped around each of your hips, both pressing you against the door and holding you in place as you pull his face down into you harder. he slides his hands to your lower back, down your ass, pushing up your skirt so he can feel your soft skin directly on his large hands. 

he uses this grip to lift you, back sliding against the bathroom door as he pulls you closer to him. he doesn’t have to lean down as far to kiss you now, doesn’t have to worry about using his hands to press you into the door. your legs are wrapped around him, his hips pressed between them. 

he kisses down your neck. “do i get to know your name?” he asks into your collarbones.

“do you need to?” you ask, cheek against the top of his head. 

when he laughs, you can feel the vibrations dance across your chest, “guess not.” he licks a strip up your neck, grinding his hips against you, “what do you want me to call you tonight then?”

“something cute,” you offer. 

he laughs again, “alright, doll, i’ll get creative then.” he holds you tight, both hands on the undersides of your thighs as he moves you to the sink, sets you on the edge of the porcelain fixture. his hands move to the tops of your thighs, sliding up and up until the hem of your skirt is at the top of your hips, exposing the lacey panties he was toying with moments ago.

surprisingly, this weird grip that he has on the tops of your thighs is not doing a horrible job at keeping you up right, but the longer that he feels your skin, drags his nails against the fats of your thighs, nudges open your legs with his knee, the less his focus is on keeping you steady. your core is tight, engaged to not fall backwards into the faucet, but perched right on the edge. 

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs against your neck, hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulls them down your thighs, over your knees, and lets them rest around your ankles and the fact that he’s being this mindful, doesn’t let your panties touch the gross bathroom floor, either means that he has, indeed, done this before or, the much worse option, he’s just that considerate and thoughtful.

he wraps one arm around your lower back, places one large hand on the inside of your thigh and slides it further between your legs until the tip of his thumb rubs against your already messy clit. you reach out on instinct, fingers wrapping around his forearm, eyes begging to stare into his, but he can’t pull away from the way that you’re teetering on the edge of the sink, thighs quivering to keep yourself upright as he begins to tease you, so you force it, slide your grip up his arm and shoulder and tilt his head to look you in the eyes and now he’s convinced he can’t ever pull away from this sight. 

your eyebrows are knit together but always moving, lip jutted out, chin tilted upwards, breathing already unsteady and he can feel the heat radiating from your entire body. he watches your jaw fall open as he drags the tips of two fingers between your puffy lips, circling the pads against your hole once before your tiny, but insistent nods convince him to push inside. your eyes close lazily and then open half-lidded, corners of your lip upturn into a blissful smile, and the prettiest hum leaves your throat as his fingers fill you.

with your position on the sink it’s not easy, but you move your hips forward the smallest bit. it barely pushes his fingers deeper, but the miniscule movements are better than nothing. he could give you everything you wanted right now, could curl his fingers and move so fast that his arm’ll be sore tomorrow, but there’ll be time for that in a second. right now, you’re whimpering so needy for him, soft walls clenching around two fingers, juices dripping into his palm and down to his wrist, a slow, sticky squelching louder than the music and chatter behind the closed door. 

“more?” you ask, quiet and sweet. you could’ve told him politely or demanded it, however you wanted to communicate your need would’ve been good enough for him, but you ask him so nicely and he knows exactly how the rest of the night will go, knows exactly what you need from him. 

“oh, sweetheart,” he says and the butterflies in your stomach are getting restless now. he nudges your legs open wider with his knee, steps in between them to get a better angle, chest against your shoulder as he starts fingering you faster, driving his two thick, long fingers deeper inside of you, curling as he pulls his arm back towards himself. “give ya anything ya want when ya ask that nicely.”

you can’t think of any other words, the only thing leaving your mouth over and over again is, “fuck fuck fuck” as he fucks you so pretty with his fingers. you’re so wet around him, so easy for his fingers to slip in and out of you and you’re having a hard time keeping your legs spread. if he weren’t standing between them, they’d be closed around his hand right now. it’s all so much. 

your forehead falls into his bicep, nodding against the muscle, fingers grip around the edge of the sink as you babble, “gonna come, please, gonna make me come.”

“then come, bunny,” he says, presses a soft kiss into your hair, and you’re gone. you listen to him so well, he can’t help but smile as he continues the motions, fingering you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around him, flooding even more. the grip on your waist gets tighter as you lose control, taking care of you as nearly every thought leaves your head. if he were any less in control, less thoughtful, you’d be on the floor right now. 

“and what do i call you?” you pant the second that you’re able to think again, hands not really sure where to root as they move from his chest to his shoulder to his forearm. 

“s’pose you might need something to call out when i wreck ya, huh?” he asks, kissing the side of your jaw because it’s the closest thing he can reach, thankful for your tiny recovery as he reaches down with one hand to undo his belt and jeans. 

fuck. you swallow harshly, not caring for even a second how much the effect of these words is showing on your face. this confidence might look tacky or awkward on somebody else, but his beaming genuine smile and equally as strong grip on your waist is driving you insane already and you know he’s not lying, he’s going to ruin you. you nod. 

“don’t matter to me, princess,” he says, smearing the juices on his fingers down the length of his cock, swirling around his tip, but you don’t dare look down, eyes on his as he finishes his sentence, “as long as it’s coming out of your pretty mouth, you can call me whatever you want.”

“and you say you haven’t done this before,” you breathe, voice very unsteady for how confident that sentence could’ve been.

“i really haven’t,” he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss you. “honest. just something about you that’s driving me crazy,” he says, wet fingers digging into your hip under your skirt, and for some dumb fucking reason you believe him, nodding stupid like he needed confirmation to a plain statement and you hope he understands that this means that you want him right now.

you press your forehead against his shoulder, catching only a glimpse of him lining himself up, finally having a scene to match the sensations as he drags his thick head between your sloppy lips, grids the underside against your clit, pushes the tip against your slightly stretched hole. 

“nuhhuh,” he says, picking your chin up, shaking his head, talking so soft that you accept it all as gospel, “look at me, dove. you can watch later, but right now, i need to see your pretty expression as i spear ya, okay?”

all you can do is nod, all you can say is, “okay.”

he smirks, kisses the side of your jaw so quickly before pulling away, eyes scanning every facial feature so he can notice the change in every single one, and then he pushes inside of you. the moan that rips from you is so loud that you’re convinced every person in the building can hear it. it breaks off at the end, so forceful that your vocal chords can’t support it, and you can’t see how entranced he’s looking at you because you can’t focus on anything.

you’re so fucking full. 

he’s pressed completely up against you, hips resting on the insides of your thighs, arm around your lower back to pull you into him, your chest against his, and his face is so close to yours, but not close enough that he can’t see how hard he’s already wrecking you just by being inside of you.

his hips pull back slowly. you can feel every inch leaving you and you’re already squirming at not being filled to the brim, circling your hips as best you can on the edge of the sink. he pushes forward again, harsher this time. your head falls against his shoulder and from this position, you can finally see it, the sheen of your slick on his cock as he pulls out and fucks back into you, how thick he is as he disappears inside of you. your walls clench around him at the sight, his hips stutter at the feeling, he needs more. 

every thrust inside of you, the fronts of his thighs slam against the side of the sink. you feel like the entire room is shaking with how forceful he’s being, but he can’t help himself, not when you’re sucking him in so tight. “shit, so fuckin’ perfect for me, fuck, so wet, ‘s it feel good, pumpkin?”

you nod vehemently, can barely talk amongst your whimpers and whines, can’t even really form a thought it feels so fucking good. “mmm,” you whine, “feels mm- feel- s- so good, baby, fuck, so so s- so good.”

“can’t even talk, you’re so cock drunk, huh, pretty?” he asks, moving both of his hands to your hips, rocking you back and forth to meet his thrusts and you just let him.

“please don’t stop, please, gonna come,” you say, the only string of words you’ve managed since he’s started fucking you, but you need him to know how close you are. 

“lemme feel it, babygirl, lemme feel how tight ya get when you’re comin’ on my cock, yea?” he coaxes, rhythmic pace unwavering, harder now even as he pushes you over the edge. before you even make a noise, he knows that you’re coming, can feel you gush, dripping down the underside of his cock as you squeeze him impossibly tighter and he’s throbbing now, doesn’t know how much longer he can take it when you’re making such adorable noises and looking at him like that between bouts of inabilities to focus and panting that heavily. 

he lets you ride through your orgasm completely as he hammers into you, lets you recover fully before even thinking about asking, “can i come on your thighs, angel?”

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, gummy walls fluttering at the thought.

you’re so drenched, juices running down your thighs and the inside of your legs, that it’s easy for him to press your legs together and fuck into them to finish. your plush thighs aren’t as tight as your cunt, but they’re softer, fuller, kinder, and he can’t get enough of the feeling and the sight, skin rippling as his thick cock slides against the sheened skin, disappearing into the fats of them repeatedly. you can’t stop looking either, forehead pressed against his as you both watch this sight in awe. 

“gonna paint your thighs white, puppy, fuck,” he announces, his own breath getting heavier, thrusts getting less rhythmic, more messy as he gives in, heavy cock resting between your thighs as he releases.

the throb is violent against the inside of your thighs and you can feel every single pulse as stream after stream of his sticky load coats your thighs. as the last bit of come drools out of the tip, he presses your legs together harder and pushes his hips forward one more time, hissing as his sensitive cock slides through the mess of come he’s created on your legs. 

“holy shit,” he breathes after a silent second. or, well, as silent as it can be with an entire world of people and happenings just a door away.

you nod, finally catching your own as you cup his cheek with your hand, guiding him down to meet your lips one last time, not because you’re desperate or needing, but something that you hope he takes with him as he leaves the bathroom and the club, a wordless thank you.

in the aftermath of lust and infatuation, you smile at him. he holds you in place, but leans away from you to grab some form of tissue to clean you up. he helps you down from the edge of the sink, helps you stand up right when your feet touch the floor, backs of your thighs aching from being pushed into the edge of a cheap sink all night. 

“well,” you shyly bend over to pull your panties up from around your ankles, “really great night,” you say, voice still weak even after you clear your throat. 

“yea,” he breathes a light chuckle, “a really great night,” he agrees.

you wait a beat, patient to see if he’s going to add anything else, a prying question or longing statement. the longer that you stay in this bathroom, the louder the noises of the confines get, the outside fading away momentarily as you hear the occasional drip of the faucet and the hum of fluorescent lights.

“do you think i could-,” he starts.

“i should probably get back to-,” you start at the same time.

“what?” you ask quickly, rushing to get him to finish the sentence he started, but there’s a soft pink on his cheeks and he’s quiet for another couple of seconds, and then he shakes his head.

“nothing,” he says, “i should get back to my friends too.” you only notice the sigh, the gulp, the hesitance and the regret because you’re looking for it, because you’re feeling it too. 

his hand is on the door handle and for a single second you’re sure that he’s going to say something else, finish his other sentence or start a new, but he doesn’t. he opens the door, the loudness of the music unwelcomed in comparison to the privacy and seclusion of your bathroom hookup.

“well,” you repeat, “maybe i’ll see you some other time and you can fuck me in the bathroom again.” his hand is still on your waist as he smiles huge and his laughter takes residency in your chest seemingly until the end of time.

“or, maybe you could-,” he starts, but perhaps the stars have unaligned themselves now, because he can’t seem to catch a break.

“HEY!” kuroo screams from across the bar the second that he makes eye contact with you. akaashi hits him once and then a second time for good measure, leaning in and overtly pointing to the person next to you. kuroo raises his arm, taps on his wrist with the other hand, and oh god you don’t even want to know what time it is. still, you shake your head and turn your attention back to your fling that you hope asks for a number and turns into at the very least a longer-term fling. 

“sorry about him,” you shake your head, and you swear he looks like he’s going to try one more time, pushing past all of the things that are refusing to let him ask you a simple question, but the blonde from earlier catches his attention, making a similar motion with wide eyes, chest forward like he’s going to walk over here any minute and your well it was really great while it lasted fling is removing his hand from your lower back. 

“i hope so, yea,” he replies, a smaller smile now as he turns his body towards the two people he was with before that are heading to the exit. “i really hope so.” 

the second that he starts to move so do you, both making your way through the dwindling crowd to the respective groups that you came here with, throwing a look over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure that, yes, he is indeed stealing the same obsessive glances that you are as he leaves.

“i can’t fucking believe you,” you say, hitting kuroo on the same shoulder that akaashi did, “he was about to give me his number, and now he’s gone forever.”

“you’d think that you’d get his number before you left the bathroom, yn, god,” kuroo says, shifting blame. “besides, maybe you’ll come out with us more now instead of being a buzzkill all the time, instead of being all guys, it’s not a good idea and i literally have work in the morning and-”

“kuroo is… oddly right,” akaashi says, interrupting him and shrugging, “in some weird way. he probably comes here from time to time, i’m sure you’ll run into him again. what was his name?”

your eyes go wide and you try to hide the fact that you fucked this guy without ever learning his name, but tsukishima catches it instantly and starts cackling. “wow, who even are you?”

“we’ll come back next friday, yea? you’ll probably find him again and you guys can have a fun mystery hookup in the bathroom again,” akaashi half-reason, half-pokes fun and you nod. you hope he comes back too. maybe you’ll at least learn his name next time.

/\ /\ /\

despite the fact that you do not regret anything from last night (well, maybe the part where you didn’t get the number of an incredibly hot guy who fucked you in the bathroom of a club, but nothing else), the morning is still not well-recieved for you. you didn’t even drink that much last night, but the small amounts of alcohol and the severe lack of sleep have you waking up feeling like your bones are made of bricks and your head is filled with them.

you didn’t get home until nearly 3 in the morning and you didn’t pass out until well past 3. you can’t brush your teeth enough times and the water in the shower can’t be hot enough and no matter how much concealer you layer on, the bags under your eyes are still at least somewhat visible.

regret isn’t the right word per se, because you definitely don’t regret going out the night (morning?) before or staying out as long as you did, but you definitely are feeling the effects of your bad decisions come to life. 

and on top of everything, you have to be presentable enough to go into work? that’s ridiculous. 

** bffs + tsukishima **

&lt; delivered / 8:04 am < alright who tf did this to me

> kuroo / 8:15 am > that guy last night lmao

&lt; delivered / 8:25 am < i wish akaashi was up instead of u

> kuroo / 8:29 am > what time do you   have to be in anyway?

&lt; delivered / 8:30 am < omw now.

a deep breath is not enough to prepare you for a full day of work, but it has to do something, right? and taking six of them outside of the front doors of not only your job, but your first day at your new job is probably enough to compensate for the exhaustion and physical garbage that you’re feeling.

you push open the doors, fake smile plastered on your very tired face, apron draped over your forearm. “good morning,” you offer over the chime of the entrance bell. before you even step fully inside, you’re greeted with the same tired-veiled enthusiasm, voice so familiarly soft that his morning welcome sounds more like an opening hymn. 

you walk towards the voice, but you don’t see anyone fully yet, only the top of a moving black cap behind the counter accompanied by shuffling papers and clanging pots. “just a sec, sorry,” he calls before standing up straight, rice cooker in his arms and he realizes it in the same immediate instant that you do.

gray eyes, still pretty but surprised now; gray hair no longer casually messy but neat under an onigiri embroidered dad cap; tight black shirt against his chest long-sleeved now; and he laughs, not because anything is funny, but because he doesn’t know how else to react at how impossible this situation is and yea it’s the exact same laugh that’s still living in your chest. 

you’re sure you look like a deer in the headlight right now, because it’s certainly how you feel. you can’t really breathe, don’t know what to say, because, yes, this is, indeed, the man that you had sex with in a dirty club bathroom less than 8 hours ago. 

you look down at his name tag, miya osamu. well, fuck, if only you’d have learned his name last night.

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sexy time with Inarizaki boys!

Fandom:Haikyuu Pairings:Osamu Miya,Atsumu Miya,Rintarou Suna X Fem!reader Genre:Smut,duh! Format:Scenario Warnings:Nsfw content,Smut (accidentally wrote "none" because of habits lol),degradation kink,oral (fem! receiving),cursing,fluff for Sunas part,Sub!Reader,Dom!Characters,cum swallowing Word Count:345 A/n:well damn im losing my mind over these boys

Seijoh smut drabble

↬Osamu miya Feeling of the gentle touch of his sexy hands,while one of them is holding your thigh and the other one is making its way to your G spot;smirks when he hears the sound of your pretty moans and sees the effort youre making to catch your breath which leads to a dead end,cause that's when he sucks on your clit.tasting every drop of you until theres nothing left other than his saliva,comes atop of you and plants a small kiss on your forehead.the next thing youre feeling is the tip of his cock on your enterance,ready to make you go wild again;and the shivers hes giving you by whispering to your right ear "that's it princess,now cum for me again"

↬Atsumu miya bites your neck harshly while thrusting into your soaked cunt,pinches your nipples when your eyes aren't focused on him and looks at you with a small pout on his lips that reflects his unhappiness "don't look away,ya naughty slut".has a bit of degradation kink but will make it up to you afterwards by needy cuddles and soft kisses.silences your loud screams by shoving his tongue in your mouth and kisses you intensely cause your moans distracts him from "the business", pulls his cock out of you right before reaching his orgasm and makes you swallow his cum till hes done,holds you in his arms so tightly hoping it would satisfy his urge to make you his.you sigh in relief glad that youre finally have a chance to rest,till you feel his long middle finger poking your clit again "babe…I don't think I can take it anymore" "no worries baby doll,i gotcha"

↬Rintarou Suna if duration of sex is about twenty minutes,why not spend that time for "sleeping"? :) yeah…so basically while others have their makeout sessions and bootycalls on Friday nights,you and Rin spend the whole Evening+Night sleeping in each others arms,barely getting out of bed unless its an emergency :D

reblogs are WILDLY appreciated <3

Public sex Ft. Inarizaki boys!

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Suna, Osamu, Atsumu X Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Format: Drabble

Warnings: NSFW! content, (semi) public sex, oral(M&F receiving), Fingering, Vaginal penetration

Word Count: 0.8K

A/n: Haven't written about them for a while so :P

↳Rintarou Suna

Suna has always been fond of the good luck quickies you offer him before the games start.

He tries to keep an eye on the door to watch if anyone comes in as you told him too, but with the way you bob your head up and down on his length?

It's hard to miss such tempting view. How can he not stare into your beautiful eyes when you take him this well?

He groans when he feels you rolling your tongue around his tip, suddenly deepening him down your throat until the tip hits the back of it. And you choke, again, but you keep going, and assure Suna that one day, you will be the death of him.

He curses under his breath after he catches a glimpse of the watch, realizing there's only five minutes left until the match starts. Removing your mouth from his member reluctantly, he sits you on his lap, adjusting you on his cock before thrusting up hungrily, earning low mewls from you. He knows he's being rough and somewhat needy, but he just can't help it; It feels too good to be inside you.

He needs to come quickly now, and tonight after the game, he will make sure to take his time, returning the favor by pleasuring you twice as hard.

↳Osamu Miya

Sex in his office has always been a treat for you two. Osamu sure enjoys the sight of your body wrapped in a nice skimpy lingerie, and black tights embracing your long legs. He smirks when he pulls the garter and sets it free, loving how you jerk your hips when it slaps against your skin.

He reminds you to keep your voice down, that you're still in his office and he doesn't want others to find out how much of a slut you actually are; but he has no right to protest, since his fingers scissoring you open are pretty much the reason why you can't help but to let out lewd sounds.

Whenever one of the workers ask for permission to come in, he pushes you under the desk, gagging you with his already throbbing member as he keeps his voice normal and acts so smooth like you have literally zero effect on him. Sometimes you want to start sucking his dick while the worker is in his office to embarrass him, but you know you'll receive a hard punishment afterwards that's not worth all the trouble.

He whispers degrading comments into your ear, delighted by how you shiver when his lips make contact with your ear. His right hand grips one of your boobs while the other one fastens its speed, provoking you to moan louder.

He bites your shoulder when you finally reach your climax, tightening his grip around you so you don't fall from his lap. He then picks you up with no effort, places you on his desk while throwing all his belongings on the ground, ready to fuck your brains out.

↳Atsumu Miya

Atsumu loves it when you wear things he's bought for you. At the restaurant, he smiles when he glances from the menu to your black high heels, admiring how it has hugged your feet perfectly. When he gives his orders to the waiter and looks down the table, he's met with the high heels alone, without your feet in them. He's confusion doesn't last for long though, because he suddenly feels something poking his crotch, and when he looks down, he's met with your painted toe nails grinding on his clothed cock.

You somehow find your way to the storage room, in such hurry that you don't even bother to lock the door. He slams you against the wall and kneels in front of you, peppering your skin with light, but hungry kisses. He starts from your ankles and comes up, fingers holding your legs tightly. A small groan escapes his lips when he finally has a taste of your wet pussy, and starts taking his frustration out on your poor little cunt. He doesn't listen when you tell him to slow down or you might not be able to hold your voice back, simply telling you that you asked for it and now you gotta face the music. He doesn't even care that his pants might be ruined when kneeling like this, because nothing matters to him, as long as he can have his way with you.

You end up sticking to the wall as he pounds into you, moaning at how your walls swallow him whole. You're so fucking tight and he doesn't even have to move, being inside you is enough to make him lose his mind. Although he's always been obsessed with how your voice gets louder when you release all over him, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to hear that pretty voice of yours, again.

Reblogs are appreciated!

So, I don't know where the hell this came from but I did something.

TW: NSFW content, Friends with benefits, Unstablished relationship, Vaginal penetration

Needy, needy boys.

He's always been taken for a playboy. He comes over in the middle of the night, gets what he wants and then you'll never hear of him...

...until he's in the mood again. Then he comes back with a straight face like nothing happened, everything's fine and he's not treating you like some kind of doll he only plays with whenever he feels like it. And you're stupid, so fucking stupid as your arms are always open, welcoming him into your little corner of solitude.

But after a while, something happens. His smiles are more genuine, his embrace feels warmer than before and most importantly, when you wake up in the morning he's there, already up, staring at your face with a somewhat unknown look.

Then he's gone again. His absence lasts longer than usual. You don't know if you should text him. Would you come off as clingy? This is probably a bad idea. If he wanted to hear from you he would have at least given you a ring. Are you done? Is he abandoning you for someone else? Someone prettier, with bigger eyes and a smaller waist... Doubts and insecurities fill your head, days turn Into months, hope gets lost in your sleepless nights until that night, that one night that makes you feel everything and nothing at the same time.

After receiving that one text "I'm outside", you run to the door to see if you aren't dreaming and this isn't just a figment of your imagination, and there he is, standing in front of you, looking all different. Good different or bad? You can't really tell, and you know what? You don't feel like putting much thought to it either.

He slams his lips onto yours, your clothes are taken, torn apart laying on the floor, you somehow find your way into the shower, the cold water makes you gasp and cling onto him even more. You're soaked under the water but you don't feel clean, body tainted with lust and desire.

Things are happening fast but it's not the same anymore. There's no mind games this time cause he's so needy and been dying out of starvation. Instead of his teeth sinking in your skin it's his kisses, penetrating your flesh, your blood, your soul. He's kissing your soul and you're holding him with a deathly grip, never having enough. Nobody talks. It's just meaningless sinful sounds and kisses, kisses, kisses. He's so needily passionate and it's beautiful; making you feel whole, significant. His lips trap your bottom one and suck it in. He's breathing loudly, you've been kissing for quite a while now but every time you try to part he doesn't let you. It's like he wants to die, drown in your kisses, or perhaps he finds them more addicting than oxygen.

It won't be long till you feel your release approaching and he feels it just as precisely as you, you've literally become one now and he knows your body like the back of his hand. He puts his skills into use and thrusts rapidly, taking his frustration out on your cunt and you're fine with it. He's been deeper than this before but it's never felt this intimate. All his actions are rushed and you know he's not going somewhere; he's just suddenly so needy and you adore it already.

You're shaking, he's shaking and with another thrust, you're gone. Your body is still caged in his strong arms, but your soul has fallen into the land of euphoria. Everything feels numb, the water that's now marking your skin red, the pain in your back, your chest, your heart. It's just him, him and you're in love, glad that he's in love too. You scream as he keeps thrusting through your orgasm and he moans in your mouth, loudly. It's needy, so needy, but so stunning that you can't complain.

When you come down from your high, he finally parts away. You're both panting and desperate for air but there's something miraculously. You look at each other and he's eyes are talking, it's proof that he wants, you needs you, can't get by without you. Looking at this messed up man under the cruel whips of hot water, you find yourself in love. Ah what a beautiful feeling it is, to be able to love and to feel loved. He's with you now, you won't be waiting for him anymore, he'll always be here, that's what you're thinking.

But the next morning he's gone, and this time for good; because you made him feel something,

That he doesn't deserve you.

DAZAI, Ranpo, NIKOLAI, OIKAWA, IWAIZUMI, Kuroo, SUNA, Osamu, Shinazugawa, UZUI, GOJO, Fushiguro, Geto, EREN, MELLO, Vanitas

𖤐 — angst (kinda), mild nsfw, non-con touching, idk just general asshole behavior.

𖤐 — haikyuu!! boys that I think would lead you on.

— Tooru Oikawa is a player, why did you think you’d be the exception? He plays the pretty popular boy persona to get in your pants. Don’t get it wrong though, he’s not up your ass all the time, he’s not desperate. You’ll work for it, he’ll make sure of that and if you don’t he’ll end it there, because what’s the fun of having a toy that won’t play? But if you do playback he’ll either be the most mediocre fuck of your life or the best fuck of your life, it depends. Either way, you're not getting the charming little prince you got at first back.

— Hajime Iwaizumi is an observer and he can observe the fact that you have a crush on him, and if he’s in the mood he’ll make use of his observation. He’ll entertain your flirting not expecting much to come from it, that is, until something does. It’s not his proudest decision, but he uses the mindless trifling to get the chance to fuck you. He’s not proud of it, but he just kinda ghosts you afterwards.

— Tetsuro Kuroo stalks the halls with his tall stature and everlasting cocky look on his face, only to pass by you giving a wink and a deep smirk. Turning to whisper to a fellow classmate while staring daggers at you, no doubt gossiping about you. Tetsuro Kuroo is a huge dick, but he’s an even bigger flirt, he’ll lay it on thick too. Coming up behind you in the halls slipping his arm around your shoulders whispering the most obscene shit, he just likes to see you blush. And that’s about the only reason he ever fucks with you or fucks you— to see your pretty flustered face.

— Asahi Azumane doesn’t do it on purpose, to be honest, he’s scared of commitment. He really does like you, but he thinks he’ll fuck up what the two of you have and just ends it before he gets the chance to mess it up. But every time he ends it he comes right back just to end it once more.

— Yuji Terushima probably lead you on because you were the next pretty thing with a warm hole to fill. He doesn’t even try to hide that he’s just trying to get ass from you, it’s just up to you if you’re willing to give it to him.

— Osamu Miya spends every waking day with you till he gets what he wants, I mean on the way to classes, from and to school, it’s to the point that Osamu’s own twin starts to wonder if you two are together. But as soon as he gets what he wants (to sleep with you) he tucks his tail and runs, completely avoiding you, acts like you’re a total stranger— just any other girl.

— Atsumu Miya is a one-night-stand type of guy, so don’t be surprised when you’re left high and dry by him. Because he doesn’t have time for a relationship, he’s only worried about himself and his own pleasure. He cares for nothing more than a quick fuck with absolutely no strings attached, and sure sometimes he may fuck around and say the two of you might become something more, but he doesn't actually mean it.

— Eita Semi is a total asshole (in my opinion), he’s definitely the type to flirt with you to hell and back, but it’s the teasing borderline making fun of you type of flirting. He’d be the type to slap your ass in the hallways and walk away as if nothing happened, or keep looking at you and even wink at you when you’re in the crowd at his games or practice. But when you finally give him a chance to get his dick wet, he just dips. He’ll call you up whenever he’s horny and needs a fuck, then calls you a psycho bitch for saying he lead you on.

— Rintaro Suna is the fuckbuddie type, but unlike Semi, he doesn’t care to be the one to start flirting with you (he’s too lazy for that). But when you initiate the flirting, boy is he excited, excited to finally fill the more boring days. Yeah and after you fuck his pretty face won’t be anywhere in sight next to you when you wake up, you’ll see it the next time he’s bored and he needs something to fill his time. It’s all about him and his needs in your ‘relationship’.

masterlist

You are not as innocent as you look

Warning/content: nipple piercing (f), fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, praise kink and body worship

A/n: this is so bad im so sorry, i just wanted to throw this idea out cause i love it, but i can't write smut like, at all, so yeah, whatever

Sakusa, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Atsumu;

You and your boyfriend have been together for nearly a year, but you have never been this intimate yet,at least not until today where a heated make out session led to him being on top of you shirtless and you under him, braless.

Since you always wanted to take it slow with the intimacy, he alwas thought that you were an innocent pretty little thing, but now that he sees the nipple piercing on your left breast, he is questioning all his ideas of you.

He never thought he would be seeing something like this, you've fooled him for good; and now that he sees the truth before his eyes ー that you're a filthy pervert who never told him about your piercing just so you could have this moment, could act all shy and embaressed and hot under his flaring gaze ー he doesn't hold back.

His dick twitches hard at the sight, his red and angry tip leaking in his pants as he worships your body.

"That's so fucking hot, baby" he whispers, touching your pierced nipple gently, playing with the metal between his fingers.

He rubs your hardened bud with his thumb, "When did you get this?"

"Around a year ago, few months before we got together." you pant, meeting his lustful eyes.

He smirks and leans down to kiss your neck, leaving purple hickeys to mark you as his.

"So you planned this all along huh? and here i thought you were such an innocent girl."

It doesn't take him long before latching onto your pierced nipple, nibbling it between his teeth gently, making you moan at the feeling.

"God, you're so perfect." he says as he opens your legs to peck on your inner thigh.

He teases you until you beg him to hurry because you can't take it anymore, and that's when he eats you out like a starved man. No ー he doesn't "eat you out", he makes out with your pussy for his own pleasure and he is not stopping until he is satisfied.

He won't take this further though, because he knows that his pretty baby is not ready yet, so he will wait as much as she needs.

But god is he horny. He can't get enough of your tear stained face and that pierced nipple, it makes him incredibly hard, but all he can do is grind onto your thigh in hopes of relieving some of his stress.

You may not be ready to have sex yet, but he looks so desperate, so needy that you want to help him out somehow.

"Baby, let me help you out, yeah?"

It doesn't take him much to cum with your mouth stuffed full of his cock

Reblogs are really appreciated!

timeskip!osamu x reader

warnings: 18+//smut//nsfw

a/n: bcuz the guy below reminds me of him

sauce: Silent War

"aahh! osamu, what's with this p-posture?!" you screamed as he thrusts into you. he was fucking you- while standing?!

your back against his chest, while his strong and muscular arms from all his volleyball days and his work, held your body close to his. his dick sliding in and out of you fast made you feel like you were about to past out, especially in a position like that.

a scream left your lips as his cock hits your cervix perfectly. "do you like this position? my cock deep inside you, hm?" he whispered in your ear as you bit your lip, keeping in a moan. "o- oi!" you gasped. his hands were now groping your breasts.

he pinched the one on your right while the other squeezed the left one making you moaned as he continued to pound into you. "ngh~ osamu, m' gonna-" you tilted your head back against his shoulder. osamu took note of this and threw you onto the bed.

"let's do it in our normal position, shall we?" he smirked.

  forty, love ᵕ̈       tennis au!miya twins x gn!reader       ( pt. two ) ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : what to do when two  ⋮⋮  fellow pro tennis players are ⋮⋮  interested in you ? you compare ⋮⋮  their stats , of course !

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦❕     ♡ # 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 🥛     ♡ # ~4.1𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 ( wow )     ♡ # 𝙘𝙬 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 ( all characters are 18     or older during all events of the story !! ) ,     𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

🧺 extensions  ⋮⋮  prev  ⋮⋮  series masterlist  ⋮⋮  next ( coming soon ! )  ⋮⋮

🎶 on shuffle " yeah x10 " - trent reznor & atticus ross ( challengers movie soundtrack )

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ i locked tf in for this one ... ( also thank you ree for helping with the smau stuff i ' ve never done myself prior to this lolll ) ”

atsumu and osamu are neck-and-neck in a tie break. the crowd around you grows frustrated in a twisted type of voyeurism as the two tennis players are almost equally matched in the masterful way they return the ball to each other.

it's still only the first set but it feels like you've been sitting there watching 100 tennis matches–and in a sense, you have been.

as the ball gets traded between the miya twins on each side of the net, the countless times you've seen the two passionately rally tennis balls with their rackets cycle through your mind. they overlay the sight in front of you, almost like a flip book–one that eventually lands on a page from a long-gone time.

a time when the twins used to play alongside each other on one side of the net.

،   の   ✧   後    🌱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 …

after winning the match that made your young pro-athlete career those many years ago, you remember you took your new trophy with you to sit in on a certain mens doubles match a few hours later that same day.

there were a few hours to kill between when the cameras flashed in your face as you held your trophy and when you'd have to deal with it all over again that night for the winners' banquet. so, you decided to take up the two twin brothers' offer from the previous day to watch them in action.

slipping into a secluded corner of the stands, you were just barely able to catch the last few sets of their game since yours had overlapped slightly time-wise. but even in those few sets, you found yourself drawn to how the two ruled the court.

looking at the scoreboard, it seems like they breezed past the first set, had faltered and lost the second, but were definitely back on track to secure the third when you had arrived.

under the searing afternoon sun you noticed how atsumu always donned a certain smirk on his face before serving. this smile somehow shone brighter than the rays of light beating down on him and his sweat-drenched shirt.

and not too far from the blonde and closer to the net, osamu continuously provided ample support whenever atsumu's serves were returned, no matter how powerfully their opponents hit them back. he had a show-stopping habit of leaping into the air to reach the tennis balls whenever they were returned up high. volley after volley, osamu's usually bored expression would turn to one that was laser-focused on swatting at his neon green targets with his racket so the balls would quickly crash onto their opponents' side.

in this way, the twins weren't ones who waited for the ball to hit the court. they always had the ball in motion. it was like they were so in-tune on some deep and unspoken level, and you hadn't seen doubles partners play in any way like it.

'maybe it's because they're brothers,' you thought to yourself as you found yourself more invested watching a tennis match than you ever had before, 'maybe it's because they're twins, at that!'

either way, the miya twins secured that third set, and despite the annoyance of your manager as you were completely oblivious to their calls and texts telling you to start getting ready for the winners' banquet, you intently watched every moment and every point as they finished off their match by winning the fourth set.

you earnestly joined the audience in the stands as you applauded the two, watching them drop their rackets and excitedly embrace one another in a tight hug upon realizing the match was now over. they were winners.

the trophy gets brought out, and you get a great view of their faces lighting up in celebratory smiles, holding their shared trophy between them for the cameras.

the image of them both–hair sticking to their foreheads and dripping in sweat yet still grinning impossibly wide–as they clutch their new trophy and both kiss it at the same time, was one that would be burned into your memory for years.

but at the time, the moment passes as quickly as it came before they go to pack up their duffels on the sidelines. you take this as your queue to leave and finally catch up on the notifications from your manager. but just as you stand up from your seat, atsumu spots you in the crowd, and you see his jaw drop.

immediately and without risking to glance away from you, he aggressively swats at osamu's arm next to him to get the gray-haired one to look at where you stood, too. osamu reluctantly follows his brothers gaze, and you see the frustrated expression aimed at his brother quickly melt into one mixed with shock and admiration as he locks eyes with you.

(unable to fight the small smile that tugs at your lips upon seeing their ego-boosting reactions again) you nod at them in acknowledgment, give them a small wave, and go to pick up your trophy as you leave while they flash those winning smiles right back at you.

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

the banquet a few hours later was held in a classy venue, with winding spotless marble staircases and chandeliers in every room. when your ride pulled up in front of the building, you stepped out onto the ostentatious red carpet that was laid out for all the tournament's victors to waltz down. you could hear the buzz of chatter and crystal glass clinking inside. the louder it grew, the more your hands gripped at the shiny handles of your award as you entered the hall.

a worker directed you to a table where all the winners were asked to place their trophies for a round of pictures that would take place before dinner started. just as you go to set yours down, two similar and familiar faces entered through the banquet hall doors.

the voice of the tournament employee started to sound more and more tuned-out as you watched them step into the hall. the miyas were clad in clean and simple dress pants and blazers. osamu's outfit was on the more, of course, grayer side than atsumu's (and defiinitely more of atsumu's dress shirt buttons were unbuttoned than that of his brother's).

osamu held in his hands the brothers' trophy from their match earlier that day, and a different worker suddenly approached them, kindly gesturing to the table you were standing right next to. they were probably asking osamu to place the trophy down on the table–something you were still yet to do.

you quickly look back at the worker talking to you, apologizing for "spacing out" before carefully positioning your prize in the spot where they needed it. you feel a presence come up next to you, and look up to make eye contact with the two twins.

"long time no see," atsumu teases as his brother sets down their trophy next to yours.

"nice trophy ya got there," osamu adds on. a light-hearted scoff escapes you before you attempt to congratulate them on their own win.

"thanks! congrats to you t–"

"l/n! i've been looking everywhere for you!" your manager suddenly appears and interrupts you, "there are some photographers who're asking for your picture. right this way, please..."

as your manager nudges you away from the award table, you glance back to give the two brothers an apologetic smile. they wave you off and soon you lose sight of them as the crowd in the room gets between you.

and that's how it went for the first half of the evening: looks here and there exchanged between you and the miyas, but always getting whisked away by the crowd to each take pictures with so-and-so or do another interview with whatever news outlet.

until finally, all the trophy bearers are called up to take one big picture together, and you find yourself standing next to the doubles partners once again. osamu is right next to you, and atsumu next to him. the moment after all the athletes have clobbered their big trophies in their grasp to hold up for the cameras, you start getting bombarded with flashing lights.

as you try to maintain your smile for the pictures, you catch in the corner of your eye osamu leaning closer to you, and he whispers, "ya looked great out there"–he pauses and smiles again at the flash of another camera–"and you're lookin' great now, too."

"lay off the gorgeous singles winner, would'ya 'samu? you're ruinin' our photos right now," atsumu smoothly joins in on your brief hushed conversation.

your smile begins to resemble a more genuine one at the interaction, and you're hoping the photos of you don't show the blush dusted on your cheeks once they get released to the press.

again, you don't get to talk to the twins much throughout the rest of the event. but during dinner hour–while them and their team are off somewhere else in the venue doing some p.r.–you successfully managed to slip a napkin with your number scribbled on it into the cup of their trophy as you pass by.

that night at your hotel, two new numbers popped up on your phone.

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

the sound of tennis balls making contact with hardcourt echo through the darkness of night.

a few weeks later you're practicing late-night at a hotel court for your first grand slam appearance. for you recently, it's been nothing but nonstop training and drills. you were aiming for the final. sure, you could tell yourself to make it to at least quarter-finals, or even be satisfied at seeing yourself at semi-finals.

but no, your mind was set on the final. hell, your mindset was to win overall.

you got ready to practice your serve for another time, following the neon green ball as it went from the palm of your hand, to spinning in mid-air, to crashing against the wires of your racket–

your phone emits a small beam of light from where it laid on the bench in your peripheral vision. you wondered for a split second who could be texting you at this hour.

watching as your serve hit the exact corner you were aiming for, you decided you could give yourself a short break to check.

you reach into your duffel and fish out your towel, and you pat your neck and arms dry as you unlock your phone to open up the sudden set of notifications accruing on your homescreen,

it was the miyas.

ever since they added your number from the winners' banquet napkin, the three of you have had a shared groupchat you used to stay in touch. you had discovered pretty early on that the twins were very different, even if it's in how they text.

recently, however, on account of your intense grand slam preparations, you haven't been very active in it. but out of nowhere, here the two brothers are blowing up the chat. as you caught up on the messages, you pick up on an interesting amount of typos–more than usual...

at the mention of bottles, you immediately caught on. a small laugh escapes you as you type back to voice your suspicion, and atsumu almost instantly replies back to confirm it–that they've had a few drinks tonight.

you shake your head at the bench. it was almost midnight. and they want to see you this bad?

you debate for a moment how much you really wanted to see them again.

they were definitely staying at some different hotel than yours, as they were going to be at the upcoming tournament as well to compete in their usual doubles bracket. you had no idea where or how far their hotel might've been, though. how would they even get to your hotel from theirs anyway? how long would you have to wait for them out in the dark? you could probably fit some more drills in that time instead.

after thinking about it for another minute or two, you sigh and look up at the moon in the dark sky, too exhausted from the hours you've already spent on the hard court to really think of an excuse not to have them visit you. a small break right about now couldn't hurt.

besides–other than catching sight of them on tv or on online tennis news articles–the last time you saw them was at the winner's banquet, and you really wouldn't complain about seeing their faces in person again.

so you tell them what you're up to at your hotel, and you're met with eager replies back in the groupchat: atsumu suggesting they join you in your practice, osamu saying they have a driver that can bring them to you.

a sudden surge of energy enters your system realizing you're about to have them right in front of you again. you bounce your leg against the court impatiently to try and let some of it out.

you start thinking back to the last time you were face-to-face with them, and you can't help but cringe a little, recalling how you were more of a flustered mess than you might've wished in front of them.

you internally cursed the effect they have on you.

and yet, here you were giving in to see them. but if you were going to have to face them again, you concluded you'd need a bit of liquid courage pumping through you yourself...

around 20 minutes after you seal the deal and send your hotel's address to the two brothers, you hear footsteps approaching where you were sat at the court bench.

and then there they were–casually in t-shirts and shorts they were probably about to wear to bed–in front of you. you hear the clink of bottles as atsumu drops the duffel on his shoulder onto the court.

"be more careful with that, would'ya 'tsumu?" osamu hisses while landing a quick blow to the side of atsumu's arm.

you already find yourself giggling in their presence again and barely a minute has passed by. but what can you say? both on and off the court, the two were so interesting for you to watch.

after atsumu does in fact fail to open some more bottles with his racket and osamu instead opts to use the cap of one bottle to open two others, the three of you then start rallying in a friendly 2-v-1.

with the twins opposite you across the net, tennis balls start to get lazily passed over the net using one-handed forehands and backhands (you each had an occupied hand holding your drinks, after all). though you three aren't giving it your all, a steady and precise rhythm of clicks still start to ring out like a metronome with each pass of the ball, accompanying the catch-up conversation that you share on the court.

a few rallies in–and a drink or two more–atsumu suddenly poses a question mid-rally that catches you off-guard.

"hey, say if you had to date one of us, which one you would pick?" the blonde shouts across the court, almost causing you to miss your return on the ball. you question if this was atsumu, or the alcohol talking.

click!

skeptical, you shout back, "i'd go out with whoever actually liked me, obviously."

click!

"but what if we both did?" you barely catch osamu add on, as his words are more mumbled and almost slurred before you see him hurriedly take another swig from his bottle.

you can hear the joint-confession in his words, and your other hand goes to give you another sip from your own bottle to calm your nerves.

click!

"is it normal for you both like the same girl?" you tease.

click!

"nah, not really, actually," osamu calls back.

"so what, should i feel honored or something?" you can't help but sarcastically throw at the two.

click!

"of course. you're hot and talented," atsumu reasons, dropping his description of you like it's the most normal thing to say in that moment. you feel your face start to heat up–and it definitely wasn't the alcohol making its way through your system.

click!

"oh, is that all i am?" you feign offense, and for once both brothers mistakenly go to return the ball, when they usually are so coordinated only one ever has to take initiative. you loved messing around with them.

the ball falls between their two outstretched rackets, and atsumu curses under his breath as osamu goes after it as it starts bouncing away. after retrieving it, he tosses it to atsumu to serve it over and start up another rally.

click!

"'s not that," says osamu, "we've both gotten to know ya, you're great all-'round."

click! click! click...

"but based on what you've gotten to know 'bout us," atsumu speaks up in the pause of conversation, "who would'ya pick?"

click... click... click–

you suddenly give it your all and crash the ball hard onto their side of the court, downing the rest of your bottle right after, "let me think that over."

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

the three of you had stopped rallying, opting to hanging out on the bench and just talking about life. the few bottles from the miyas' duffel were about halfway through and it was close to about 2 in the morning now.

the sound of tennis balls and rackets making contact was now replaced with hushed giggles, the sound of tennis balls lightly being dropped against the court surface and being caught again once they inevitably bounce back up, and the whirr of rackets being twirled by absent-minded hands.

all these sounds muddle together in your ears, an internal tell-tale signal to you that you were very tipsy.

since you were asked the question, the notion of getting with either of the miya twins has been floating in your mind. other thoughts came along with it, too, and the alcohol was not helping to push those curiosities of yours away.

as always, these two made it so easy to cave into your wants of selfish self-satisfaction. but this was a much-welcomed respite from the otherwise constant pressures and grueling day-to-day of going pro so young on the tennis court.

that you could be sure of, sober or not.

... so you figured your future and more sober self in the morning can't get that upset for what you were about to try.

"i think i know how i can figure out an answer to your question from earlier," you find yourself humming while atsumu was on your right, attempting a racket trick on the bench, and osamu was to your left, on the ground leaning up against the bench and bouncing a ball between the court and the palm of his hand.

"which one?" atsumu questions with a quick glance over to you as he tried balancing the middle of his racket on one finger.

"who i'd go out with," you nonchalantly shrug as you hear the wires of your racket slice through the air when you quickly spin it in your grasp.

"really?" osamu cranes his neck back to look at you, hand still trading contact with the ball between his hand and the court.

you look between them, the blush from the alcohol clearly visible on their faces–one you can certainly feel is shared on your own facial features, too–before looking back down at your racket, "i dunno, i just think i need more... stats to compare."

"what d'ya mean?" atsumu now puts down his racket in his lap and asks. you bend down and use your racket to slice the tennis ball out from under osamu's palm, directing attention to the racket by tapping it against the ground.

you ask osamu, "heads or tails?"

a beat of expectant silence passes by the three of you, as the brothers wonder what you're getting at.

"...tails," osamu finally replies, and it almost sounds like he utters his words on bated breath as he looks at you. (or maybe that was just your ego getting to your head.)

you twirl your racket one more time and let it clatter to the ground. the sound reverberates in the now completely-silent space, as the miyas are frozen in place as they scan your every move.

heads.

you look at atsumu, and mustering up all the confidence from your inebriated system, you reach your hand up to lightly hold his jawline. his skin under your fingertips runs soft as you dare to start leaning in closer, and closer, and at the moment your lips brush the slightest bit, you feel his breath hitch.

for a second, you reconsider if now was the time to settle into desire, if this may all just wind up being a big mistake–

but then atsumu quickly gets fed up, and he finally closes the gap between you. before you know it, your eyes flutter closed as you get lost in how his mouth feels on yours. his kiss is relentless, leaving no room for you to catch your breath as he constantly makes sure you can feel as much of him against your lips as you can. it's like he doesn't want you thinking about anything but him, not on his watch.

yeah, this is definitely not a mistake.

after a few moments, you hear shuffling and the bench creaks under a new weight on your left, and suddenly you feel a hand on your left thigh–osamu's, no doubt.

you carefully pull back from you and atsumu's kiss, catching how atsumu's eyes remain lidded as his body involuntarily tries chasing after you, both of you letting out soft pants to try and breathe in much-needed air.

you turn your head to face osamu, and you follow how his eyes trace over your face and his teeth subtly gnaws at the inside of his bottom lip in an anxious state of anticipation. you take it as your sign to start leaning in towards him–your fingers still lingering on atsumu's face as you do so.

osamu's kiss is much softer, but deliberate nonetheless. he isn't afraid of pulling back a little bit, but it isn't long before he takes the initiative to gently trap your bottom lip between his teeth now and then, forcing content sighs out of you–this in itself almost eggs him on further to toy with you more.

and then the skin under your right hand's finger tips disappears, a pair of lips start to kisses your jaw, and a pair of hands starting to wander along the right side of your body.

now both miyas are all over you, their possessive hands almost competing in grasping at more of you than the other. that, combined with the feeling of lips on yours at the same time as lips trailing along the side of your neck, made your head buzz.

you felt giddy–you've only ever seen them playing on the same side of the court. but right now, they were opponents, but instead of fighting over some glass trophy or medal, they were trying to win your attention.

finally needing air, you pull away from osamu. when you open your eyes to see his face, his lips are swollen and even in the dark of night you can catch a glimpse of his pupils appear blown out.

those same eyes flick over to glance at his brother on your right, and before you can follow his gaze, osamu's going in for the left side of your neck.

in the dark you can feel every touch–two varying paces of lips working against your skin, bleached and dyed hair brushing along the underside of your jaw. there's hands on your thighs, hands on your waist, hands peeking just under the hem of your shirt, hands threading through their blonde and grey hair–

your phone starts to ring.

"oh shit–" you quickly stand up from between them, stumbling a little from the imbalance that comes with your current tipsy state. you feel around for your phone on the ground and by the time you locate it among the mess of duffels and rackets and empty bottles, you see a missed call and texts from a member of your team. they're wondering where you were, and telling you to wrap up and head to bed if you haven't already.

"s-sorry," you stutter out at the two boys, picking up your racket from where you left it on the ground and fumbling with the strap of your duffel, "i gotta go–thanks for... the drinks."

and all osamu and atsumu can do is dumbly nod as you leave them at the bench–lips slightly parted and hair messes, with star-stuck looks from them that you've grown quite accustomed to.

🗒⋆ *. ୨୧⋆｡ taglist (2/30 at the time of publishing) : @zumicho , @liillyliilly (just send me an ask if you’re interested! xx)

💭ˎˊ˗ " you find this recipe card stashed away with three tickets to the movie challengers in a random drawer of the kitchen " ˚ ༘ 🎾 *｡𖦹⋆｡˚

forty, love … ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ᯓ★ a tennis au! miya atsumu x gn reader x miya osamu series

꒰ there’s a constant back-and-forth in tennis. the in-between doesn’t matter. what does matter is if you can keep up when opportunity comes your way, to get your way. to be the winner. ꒱

details : long form, based on the movie challengers!!!, NO MIYACEST HERE, atsumu x y/n & osamu x y/n are like separate things even if the twins are competing for y/n's attention at first, fluff, but then just so much angst, lowk highkey toxic, infidelity, mentions of struggling with mental health (self-pressure), mentions of drinking, several suggestive scenes!, each part starts off in present day but then goes into a flashback in time, ambiguous ending! (just come along for the ride, would'ya?)

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ masterlist

– part one。

– part two。 *

– part three。 *

– part four。 *

– part five。 *

( * suggestive )

💭ˎˊ˗ " ingredients for this recipe : sneakers squeaking on tennis courts , summer sun blanketing everything in neon hues , the scent of expensive cologne , the twinkle of shiny trophies and recognitions , slightly see - through sweaty polo shirts , the ruffling of duffels and the ruffling of clothes , sweat dripping down your temples to smirking lips ... - ro ♡ "

🗒⋆ *. ୨୧⋆｡ taglist (2/30) : @zumicho , @liillyliilly (just send me an ask if you’re interested! xx)

cw: breeding,videotaping, belly bulging,

Any chance he gets he likes to watch his cum drip from your holes, his favorite being your pussy. He calls it his tight little cum bucket. He’ll chuckle a grin as he wipes any residue of cum from your fold with his cock and shove it back into your hole. 

“You know I hate being wasteful” he groans as he sinks his cock back into you. 

You can barely pull yourself together as you whine and whimper from the overstimulation. He’s so sadistic he’ll make you hold the camera up to your pussy so that you can get a view of how he fucks the cum back inside. He knows you can barely keep your eyes open so holding a camera is almost impossible at the moment. 

“Come on I thought you wanted to make a movie” he grins menacingly staring deep into the camera. 

Your moans are desperate and loud. He gives you slow long strokes just so he knows you can feel every vein and inch of his cock. 

“Tell the camera where you feel me Angel” he licks his lips eyes filled with lust.

He knows exactly where you feel him. The print of his cock fucking into you is evident.

“Right here” you slur as you place a shaky hand on your lower stomach while the other holds the camera barely able to keep your hand steady.

He places his hand there and pushes down slightly.

“That’s where our baby is gonna be” he whispers

You let out a loud moan at the pressure of his hand. The feeling is so overwhelming you almost drop the camera. 

“Don’t drop it ” he chuckles darkly “or we’ll have to start all over again” 

He pushes your legs further apart so he can shove himself deeper in between them. His thrust are steady as he fucks you. You feel your body jolt back with each rough stroke. He grabs you by the throat pulling you close to him. 

“Come, I want you to get a good view of how your pussy’s sucking my cock in”

You're trembling holding the camera up. Your moans are loud you feel the embarrassment flooding through you thinking about looking back on the video. 

“Look at that, damn near sucking me dry.” 

The squelching sounds that pair with his thrust leaving you whimpering. Everything leaves you moaning desperately. His hand grips your throat holding you up so you can get a view of how he fucks you. His cock feels so big all you can do is moan and drool at the sight of him plunging himself deep into you. He’s been fucking you for so long your voice has grown hoarse. 

“You’re so messy” he chuckles “We’re gonna have to change the sheets after this” 

His eyes are trained onto where the two of you meet watching the way your juices spray out onto him. 

“You see that baby” his grip on your throat tightens as his thrust pick up speed “She’s telling me how much she loves me”

You’re too far gone, you can barely form words. 

“Keep that camera steady, I want you to catch how pretty this pussy looks with my cum dripping out”

Gojo, Toji, Getou, Nana-fucking-mi, Matsukawa, Suna, Osamu, Kuroo, Sakusa, Kita, Tsukishima, Connie, Onyankopon, Levi