+ Request. Hi, I Downloaded Tumblr Only A Few Days Ago So Idk If This Is How You Make Requests Or Even

hi !! congrats on 2k!!!! you deserve it! for the event can i get sakusa + choking? with anything else you might want to add in there! thank you and pls take care of yourself <3

hi ren!!! omg tysm 💘 ur such a huge inspo to me!! <3 and yes i went for yander and noncon too, hope u like it !

sakusa kyoomi x fem! reader [haikyuu]

wordcount: 700

tw/ choking, toxic relationships, yandere, noncon.

“Where were you?” 

You frooze. Sakusa stood silently in the dark hallway with a growing glare on his face. 

“I was out with friends, I am sorry I came home a little late.” 

“A little?” he walked into the living, the frown much more prominent under the white lights.  “You didn’t call, text, nothing.” his tone was grave, he was beyond pissed and he had every right to be. You were gone for such a long time.

“My phone died.”  

“Your phone died?” he pulled his smartphone out of his pockets and dialed your number. A tiny groan left his lips when your phone started ringing. 

“I-I can explain!” 

Dating Sakusa was...difficult. He wasn’t like other men, he was a lot harder to manage. At first, you thought the only obstacles which would come with dating him would be his germophobia. You expected that he would ask you to take more baths and clean more often. And you were okay with it, besides it was a good practice for you too. But soon, it was clear the entire relationship was a red flag.

“Who were you out with?” Sakusa asked, his voice lower and filled with dread. “I was just out with Sakura, you can even ask her! I was with her all the time.” 

Sakusa was a little, a lot possessive. He did not like you going out of the house, he did not like you talking to people other than him. He was fixed on you. Sometimes he treated you more like his little child rather than his girlfriend. 

He uttered your name shutting you up. He walked in closer and you took a step back. Sakusa’s eyes were darker and they held a hateful glint, he looked angry and disappointed. 

“Stop running away from me!” he threw his arm out, wrapping it around your delicate neck. Pushing you against the cold wall, he held you there while he towered over you. 

He looked down at you viciously, he vexxed eyes never leaving you for a second. 

Your hands automatically shot up, grabbing his, trying to push his heavy grip away. 

“You are making a fool out of yourself, stop.” he commanded but you continued to fight anyways. Sakusa chose to ignore you as he tightened his grips around your neck, 

“Why do you always have to do this? You can just fucking listen to me! I hate it when you don’t. I told you not to go out with that whore, I don’t trust her. Why don’t you ever listen to me dammit!” 

 For some reason, Sakusa was obsessed with the idea that your best friend since your childhood was a slut. He never liked her and insisted you stay away from her but there was no way you could actually do that to your sister-like best friend.

He clicked his tongue. “There’s so much I need to tell you,” he groaned. “But now...It’s not the time.” 

Since you refused to look up at him, you were able to catch a view of his sweats and his rock hard cock which was pressed against the cotton fabric. 

“I was so lonely when you left,” he almost moaned in your ear, increasing his grip on your neck even more. You felt like you were going to pass out. His other hand snaked down to his crotch, palming his erection. “You should not have done that.” He rasped in your ear. 

He lets go of your neck and pushes you onto the couch. You take a deep breath before speaking. You already know what’s coming to you but yet you ask, 

“If...I- I say no, will you stop?”

Sakusa looks at you for a second, giving you a fixed look. You take it as a no. 

He rips off your dress and shoves your panties aside. 

“Why would you wear that skimpy dress if you weren’t looking to get fucked? Won’t be surprised if this cunt is already used.” He shoves a finger into your hole and you gasp. 

Sakusa scoffs, “Guess not.” 

He plays with your pussy for a moment before lining his fat length to your tiny hole. With minimum prep he pushes his cock past your hole, tearing you into two. You cry at the pain as he defiles. 

Sakusa has a lot to do to you tonight, but he’d like to start with getting his dick wet.  

forced quiet sex is such a turn on. covering your little mouth, telling you to shut the fuck up while your muffled whines escape through my fingers. only fucking harder into you out of anger for not being quiet

“give me another one, angel,” meian grunts out, gripping your waist with all the strength in his fingers as he rears his hips back and impales you with his thick cock. the sheets underneath you are wet and uncomfortable, evidence of the last two orgasms he ripped out of you. “i know you’re so close, i can feel you – nnhhh, shit –”

your hands move to cover your face out of pure humiliation, but meian won’t have any of that. the msby captain grabs your wrists and pins them above your head with one of his as he leans over your smaller figure and fucks you faster. 

and it’s deeper, god, it’s so deep, you can feel him in places you’d never been able to reach with your fingers and your head starts to feel hazy again. 

“what do we say?” meian’s eyes are trained on your spit-slicked lips and your bleary eyes, the way you can barely keep them open spurs him on more. he needs you completely fucked out for him.  

“thank you daddy,” you moan. you don’t intend for it to come out so desperate and drawn out, but the deep, fast thrusts are bringing you closer and closer – and quick. 

“gonna count to 5, angel. when i get there,” he groans, “you’re going to cum all over this cock.” you nod, nearly incoherent.

“5… 4… 3…” oh no. oh fuck. 

it’s completely involuntary, and it happens before you can stop it. your body convulses underneath his, hips bucking up and moaning as you squirt on him and the messy sheets. you want so badly to grab onto something, his shoulders, the pillow, anything, but your wrists are still pinned over your head.

he shakes his head in disappointment, but doesn’t still his movements, still adamant on fucking you until you forget your own name. “guess we’ll have to start over, angel. daddy’s going to keep fucking you until you learn how to be a good girl and control yourself.”

heartbroken! darling . . who spends hours in her soft bed trying to get herself off — mind pacing back and forth to her ex boyfriend suna rintarou.

heartbroken! darling . . who hates herself for being reminded of how well his fingers worked her little cunt, and how well he fucked with his pretty dick.

heartbroken! darling . . who’s fussing, tossing and turning and huffing into her plush pillow until the soft of her upper arm accidently presses on the contact of her ex, ringing suna’s line.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s eyes widen when he sees your contact name pop up — still set as ‘sweet girl’ with no intent to change it. who takes a bit of time to answer, so it doesn’t seem like he cares too much.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who presses the green button with shaky fingers, parting his lips to speak before he hears a familiar meek moan.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s cock begins to stiffen at the soft, whiny moans elicited through the speaker of the phone — clearly you’ve misclicked his contact. he knows the moral thing to do would be to hang up, but . .

heartbroken! darling . . who subconsciously whines out her ex boyfriends name slurred with a soft moan, chanting the syllables over and over with occasional ‘ . . miss you . . ‘ and ‘ love you ‘s . . ‘

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who can hear your sloppy pussy over the poor speaker of the phones, and your soft rumbling in the sheets. who’s listening so intently that he starts to imagine your pussy crying out his name too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“r—rinnn . . miss y’ so much ,”

he knows — knows you’re renacting the nights where you two had to resort to phone sex, due to him being heftily busy or out of town. he’s well used to your whining and the scramble of the sheets against the phones speaker, having resorted to phone sex as a way to push off the true issue — he was never home.

“‘m sorry,” you ramble, “sorry f’being so mean . . miss y’ so much. miss your face ‘nd . . fingers and y’r cock—“ you hiccup.

you muffle your voice into your pillow, free arm wrapping under the the cushion for leverage. “rin,” you moan. “l—love you.”

your breath fastens when you feel your climax following, little thumb pressing against your sensitive clit just as suna taught you. “feels good! r—rinnn,” you cry, eyes shut tight with the vivid imagination of your now ex boyfriend behind you, helping you get off.

his sultry voice and featherlight touches transverse your thoughts, soft cries being elicited from your swollen lips and drool dirtying your pillow. you ignore the loud squelches of your pussy, or how you’re dirtying your hand and the sheets below, pumping in and out of your swollen cunt with no other desire but to cum.

you yelp, jump up in terror when you hear a loud masculine sigh and low shlicks, eyes searching the room for the source of noise. you lift your blanket with intentions to slip inside . .

revealing your phone. on an active call with your ex boyfriend named, ‘sweet boy.’ no, you hadn’t changed his contact either. the time of the call displays ‘12:38.’ a hot flash spreads throughout your body,

“r—rin?”

“y—yeah.”

“you . . you didn’t hear anything right?”

it’s so deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop.

“you really miss me that much, doll?” suna chuckles, breaking the silence with a short hum.

“no . . du—dunno what you’re talking about. i—i called on accident so ‘m gonna—“

“don’t be like that baby, don’t hang up. let me come over, yeah?”

“rin—“ you protest,

“oh? we’re not moanin’ anymore? i see . . “

“shut up, suna!” you cry out, defeated and forcibly facing the fact that you had just fucked yourself to the thought of your ex boyfriend — and he heard everything.

“c’mon. let me come over t’night and show you just how much i missed you, too. alright?”

he’s eager when you don’t protest, only a heavy huff before the line cuts off. he’s quick to messily tug up his sweats, rinse off his hand, and reach for keys.

Sometimes, you like teasing your boyfriend, Katsuki, by pretending to be one of his fangirls. He usually doesn't react and rolls his eyes at you, but today is different.

You strut into his office after patrol as usual and let out an exaggerated gasp. "Oh, my god, is that Dynamight?"

He looks up from his laptop and removes his reading glasses, setting them aside. "Yeah, what do you want?"

You smile and sit on his desk, his eyes following your every movement. "Sign my tits."

You expect him to scoff and shoo you away, but no. Instead, he grabs your thighs and pulls you into his lap. You laugh in surprise when he actually reaches for the hem of your shirt.

"Gonna sign 'em for you, alright?" He brings his lips to your ears as he slowly lifts your shirt up, "with my mouth."

𝚂𝙰𝙻𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

a girl can only do so much when threatened to the edge. no sane person is willing to jump, but the alternative isn't any better, is it? my piece for the mythology collab from hqhq! ♡ i struggled a lot so if it is disjointed i do apologize. I wrote my love Iwa as TÝR (God of justice, war and the sun) because I really wanted to do a gods piece but I didn't want to go for the greek gods this time.

.wordc. 4.5k+ tw noncon, size kink (hajime is 7ft+ in this), degradation, master, power abuse, coercion, unrelated violence/blood, hairpulling, breeding, (1) tummy bulge

We begin in the dark and birth is the death of us— Antigone

Two ravens pass low over the rolling hills, as you pull your cloak closer around you. The thick layer of white hangs impatiently above the grain as the world prepares for sleep, your nose a bitten by the frost. You chew your lips only a second before pushing on. And though the night is plenty scary on it’s own, your heart beats violently against the curve of your ribs. It only serves to remind you how easily shattered bone is, and how soft your skin.

The fields make way for a looming, dark structure through the fog, seeming to crawl its way out of the earth with claws and teeth. There’s no doubt it must’ve looked majestic at one point in time, but dusk leaves the gold pillars with only a muddled sheen of glory, and winter has already gnawed at the foundations.

Cold shivers climb higher and higher up your spine as one of the ravens lands on the edge of the roof, making you stop right in place with held breath. To your slight relief, it only eyes you for a moment before flying off. Knowing one god will be watching you in there is more than enough pressure already.

By the time you get to the stairs, the bottom half of your clothes is damp and weathered, but at this point you have no choice but to give up on seeming high and mighty. You don’t have much to hide anymore. The towering building whines as you push at the door but gives in, and the door falls shut with an echoing noise. With a thick layer of dust that kicks up any time you take a step, your worry both lowers and grows a bit brighter. On one hand, it seems like he has abandoned his place of worship. But on he other— the worshippers have too, and gods don’t take too kindly to being forgotten.

With a deep breath, you crawl over a part of the cracked table, then kneel down to brush away some of the dust. There’s only a small prayer that rings through your mind as you take out a stone from your bag and trace the runes carved into the floor, then place down your candles in every cardinal direction and your offering. The last of your jewelry. “Please work,” you whisper to yourself, “I don’t have the time for this. We need your help.” The silence, thick and pressing, drags on for a few tense minutes, and your heart lurches into your throat as you wait. But it doesn’t come, nothing comes, and your eyes fly open again.

Ever so slowly, you can feel that childlike bit of hope extinguish inside you too. The gods might as well be dead. With a deep sigh you pick yourself up from your knees, moving a pebble with the tip of your shoe as you really let the soreness of your shoulders sink in. This must be what defeat is like. It only stings when you feel the cold metal of your family crest below your collarbones, looking around the place once more. Cobwebs cover most of the supporting beams and any precious jewels have already been pried out of the walls, so there’s not much to worship left anyway.

As you walk to look out the window at the purple evening sky, a soft noise rings in the back of your head though. Sounding almost like— burning. Turning on your heels, you stumble back so quick you almost trip. The candles are burning bright, a scorching blue flame cracking and snapping as the wicks are eaten up before your eyes. And with your hairs standing all the way up, you stay frozen in place for what feels like an eternity. Deep breaths, you remind yourself, deep, long breaths. You manage to calm down a little as you close your eyes.

“I suppose it’s nice that people still try to pray,” a deep, gravelly voice fills the temple, sounding both like a child’s whisper and a thunderstorm. It feels like an assault to your brain, and you’re so stunned for a few seconds that you forget to breathe. “But I’m not really the forgiving type.” You can only reach up to brush your hands at your ears, surprised that you’re not bleeding. It feels so warm and sharp, piercing through skin and bone. It’s only when you hear footsteps that you’re able to snap out of your daze enough to recognize that a voice belongs to a person, that you were alone and now you’re not. He walks around you to kneel at the flames, easily picking up the golden piece and paying you no mind.

As you try to understand any of what just happened, you loosen your grip on your clothes and frown, puffing your chest out just a little. You didn’t just go through the worst week of your life to get robbed again. “Hey, that’s not yours to take. Give it back,” you say, putting out your hand with a frown. “Who are you anyway?”

The man straightens up as you watch, following the flexing of his back and shoulders as they move the dark ink there. You only allow yourself to stare for a moment though. You swallow when he turns, suddenly noticing how much he really towers over you when you meet his eyes. He’s huge, at least a foot taller than any man you’ve ever seen and as muscular as the best of them too. There’s a slight twitch in his brow when his eyes drop to your outstretched hand, and you instantly feel laughable. Barely a pebble for this giant of a— whatever he is.

To your relief he doesn’t mention your call for discipline, and responds with that same bone piercing tone as he motions around. So distracting. “Where do you think you are right now?” The purposefully vague answer trickles down into your mind as he pockets the last of your valuables, lips dropping open.

Before you can get anything out of your gaping mouth, he cuts you off by lifting a hand. “Quiet, human. I’m not the cheery type, and I haven’t had any worthwhile offerings in quite some years. It’d be best to keep that in mind before you speak.” As he assesses the temple with a growing frown, you instead stare him down for a few seconds, letting your eyes run all over to really take him in.

Dark hair frames a handsome face, of someone who you’d guess to be a few years older than you— in normal situations. Sharp jaw and an iron expression, but the most beautiful warm, green eyes you’ve ever seen. Like spring, like the mossy hills of home. And the blades attached to his hip only solidify your thoughts. Týr.

You swallow as you take a few steps back, suddenly wanting nothing more than to turn and run all the way back home without stopping. Your situation nags at you as soon as you think it though, recognizing one sad truth. Your home is nothing more than a sad pile of ashes, you have nothing left to go back to. There’s nothing left to do other than bend down and pray for divine intervention anyway. Might as well.

“I need your help,” you start, and he doesn’t spare you a glance as he speaks.

“I am aware. You think I come down for any unlucky fool who breathes my name if they don’t have a reason?” For a few seconds you debate answering that in your head, but it wouldn’t do you much good. Not when all you have is snarky comments in return. “Don’t waste my time. Come on, out with it.”

“My village, and most of the other villages further inland have been run over with crusaders. They burned our houses, stole us dry, and now they’ve taken the men. They took my little brother and my sister’s infant son too.” Your heart aches at the thought of anything at all happening to them. “They took them— My people are dying out there while you sit back and wait, and I- I want them back. I need help.” You take one deep breath, your voice turning desperate. “I am asking you to help me,” you rephrase, feeling the nerves burn high on your cheeks. It doesn’t matter. This was your last resort. If not this, you’ll never see them again. You owe it to yourself to try.

Admittedly, he only chuckles once at your bold claim, finally turning back to you and letting his eyes glide over your -in comparison- feeble body. And your skin feels on fire as he does, burning through your veins. “And what am I supposed to do with that, little girl?” The taunting way he drags out the words makes your jaw clench, biting back some unsavory words. He might be entertaining you now, but you have no doubt that he’d find getting rid of you as difficult as breathing. Before you can answer, he seems to ripple at the edges right before he vanishes in thin air, landing behind you.

“Seems to me like you’re asking a whole lot and not offering me nearly enough in return.” The heat of his body near yours is enough to almost melt your resolve. You feel small around him, insignificant.

You focus your gaze on the flickering of the candles instead of his presence so close to you, almost enveloping you in his scent, and bite your lip. “I have nothing left to offer you.” He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe, or say anything at all, and it’s this that leaves you so vulnerable. Because he knows this, he must. And the only thing you have left- “My life? Is that what you want?” Your fingers are cold as you reach up to grab your necklace, clinging onto it. “My life for theirs then, that’s fair.”

A huff brushes over the skin of your neck. “You think I want your life? Your life means nothing to me,” he says, walking around you to push out the candles one by one. “You haven’t won any battles, no home, no glory. You have no legacy. You really don’t possess much of anything. I could give a rat’s ass about your life, what I want is repayment.”

“Well, whatever it is you want-” you snap, glaring at his back, “you’ll get. Anything I can give, I’ll give.” You wait intently for his reaction, looking at the swirling tattoos that seem to shine a deep red at this angle. He doesn’t move, and you can feel yourself get antsier by the second. “Whatever you need. Just get everyone that was taken home safely.”

There’s a strange ringing in your ears the longer you wait in the silence, but to your relief, he finally puts you out of your misery when he hums. A soft, gentle sound, it soothes your soul just a little. The tension finally ebbs out of you bit by bit.

“Good,” he grunts, straightening his arms above his head as he stands back to his full size. All the heavy looking charms and bands glint around his biceps in the last of the daylight as he flexes, before he turns and comes to stand in front of you, leaning down to meet you halfway. “You just had to say, little one.” His large hand comes to grab the necklace you’re still clinging to, trembling a little as you let go. This time, his mouth corners flick up the slightest bit as he raises an eyebrow.

“Well?” You blank a little at the closeness, watching the dark lashes and the pretty green sparkle in the dark, smelling his overwhelming scent and the glow of his skin near yours. When his eyes find yours your mouth drops open, and that’s all he needs. He kisses you, hard, taking your head and keeping you close. You’re so surprised you almost don’t react, but when you do, you stumble back and stare at him. Wide eyed. “What?” he frowns though, lifting a brow. “I told you I’m not easily amused by mortals. Deny me again, pet, and it won’t end well.”

“B-But,” you swallow, taking a step back, “I don’t- I didn’t-”

“You said anything. I have no use for you dead so you have to make yourself useful in other ways, don’t you?” As you think, his large hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into his space again, forcing you to look up and kiss him again. And though he tastes good and his warmth travels all over your body, there’s something so heartbreaking about this. Of course that’s what you were offering him. “Not what you were expecting?” he questions, mouth attaching to your jaw, moving down the length of your neck. “Do you think I won’t treat you well?”

His strong hands find your thighs and already start pulling at the clothing there. He breathes deeply, one hand lowering to stroke the skin just above your center. And it’s this that makes you want to hide away from his touch, for more than one reason. You might’ve said anything— but you didn’t know this is what he meant. You didn’t— He rips part of your clothing aside so easily, exposing your belly and thigh. “Týr.”

“Call me Hajime,” he says, cocking an eyebrow as he looks down at you.

You let out a breath, and ball your hands. Who cares about a name right now, you don’t even want this. “Hajime.”

Before you can even get anything out, he grunts, adjusting himself and pulling your pants down more. “Quiet. Stop talking.” He wraps a strong, muscular arm around your body and brings his other hand down between your legs to rub up and down your tiny slit, forcing his fingers into your wetness. At the feeling you bite your lip, not that it stops the whimper. Two of his long fingers push in until he’s knuckle deep, his palm rubbing over your sensitive clit. “You’re tight.” You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to stay out of your head when he adds his lips again, nipping at your collarbone.

This is so fucked up. It’s messed up and you want to kick and scream, but you can’t make your body do anything at all. As he sucks painful bruises into your skin his fingers pump in and out, pulling a hiss from you when his teeth skim over the sensitive spots. His hands move faster until he can smoothly thrust his long fingers deep inside you. And though it does feel good, you already know it’s not enough when he pulls out and slips the digits into his mouth. You’re way too tense. But you don’t know how to start making that clear, because every time you try to talk he glares at you.

He quickly sheds his clothes and pulls off yours as you let him, desperate to change his mind somehow. But you did say anything you can give, and judging by his sharp focus there’s nothing that will get him out of it. He pulls you over to him and kisses you roughly, keeping you close. You suck your lip into your mouth when he lets go and lays down his heavy, fur coat, before he sits down and motions you closer. You hesitate, but he’s not so gentle when he frowns and pulls you toward him this time, making your knees buckle with the force. You swallow. “You made a deal, pretty one. You can’t back out.”

Your wrists have the marks where his fingers have dug into them earlier, and your nerves are killing you. But he’s right. Every new curve, every dip of his skin, every line and scar, exposed to you is painfully beautiful. If you weren’t so painfully unsure right now, you’d be starstruck. He admires your shape for a bit too, before his hand glides over his clothed cock. “Take that off too,” he orders, tilting his head back a bit. So you do, ridding yourself of clothing and being left in the chill of the room. He takes it and tosses it further away.

With a little whimper, you’re yanked on top of him with your knees either side of his strong thighs and your hands splayed out on his stomach. Everything is just so much bigger, it seems skewed in the worst way. His hard length is fully pressed against the inside of your leg where you’re sat, a feeling that makes you gasp. There’s no way he’ll fit. You try to explain that to him- or anything really, as he grabs your face and kisses you deeply, claiming your tongue with his own. When you pull back for air he’s already pulling you higher onto his waist, and the press of his cock between your legs is a shock to your system. So hot it stings, and huge.

“No, Hajime, I can’t. I can’t, it won’t fit,” you try, whining when he forces your hips to roll against his, only a thin piece of clothing left between you two. He lets out a little hum when you try to push off of him, failing miserably. Your one hand is forced down to where your bodies meet, and he grunts.

“And this, off. I’ll make it fit.” His hands get bruising on your hips, only watching as you fumble with the last bit of his clothing and get it out of the way, before he leads your hips to rub up and down his shaft. You’re checked out though, only able to hold yourself back a little and swallow down your hiccups each time the glistening head of his cock rubs against your sensitive clit. ‘Won’t fit,’ you cry again, and he frowns. “I told you I will make it fit, slut. You’re gushing down your thighs for me already,” he hisses, before lifting your hips and maneuvering you over him way too harshly.

He lines up and pushes inside painfully fast, forcing a few inches in and filling you to the hilt as you let out a choked moan. The stretch is so sharp and painful, your body clenching at the feeling. He’s so big. So, so big. The way he fills out your poor walls is almost too much for your body to handle, and you tear up instantly as he bottoms out. “Ah— ahh,” you squeak, ignoring how he paws at your tits and plays with your nipples. Luckily, he does give you a moment to get used to his size, but it’s still not enough to take away the grating feeling of the first few thrusts.

Ever so slowly, he leads your hips up and slides you down his shaft again. The friction makes your body shake and you can barely breathe, your hand finding support on his muscular arm. “Ah- w-no, need more time,” you try to bite through your tears, but he doesn’t care. He thrusts up into your wet walls, well aimed and relentless. And you sniffle and beg, but you both seem to know that you won’t do anything. Can’t do anything.

His thrusts are slow but way too deep, because you’ve barely been stretched and he’s hitting your walls so high in your belly you’re getting lightheaded. His fat cock twitches as he bottoms you out again, bulging your stomach and making you heave over. Your cheeks are wet when you close your eyes, letting him use your body as he pleases. And though the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs against your clit

“Does that hurt, little one?” One hand reaching around to pull your head back by your hair, you whine and cry more, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. “Hah, taking my cock so well. You wanted this, didn’t you? Little pet whoring herself out to a god of all things. You’ve got some -hng- nerve.” Each pump inside you is relentless, as if it’s pushing the air back out of your lungs. You’re gushing all over his lap, white ring forming at the base of his cock each time he forces you back down, with you barely hanging onto your sanity as he picks up the pace even more.

Thighs and balls slapping against you and a sheen of sweat covering your bodies, he grunts deep. “So pretty getting filled up by your master’s cock, look at you. S’ like you were made for this. Made to take my fat cock and get pumped full of cum like a little bitch in heat.” You just whine at his words, no longer able to respond. Your mouth is hung open, and he pushes himself up to pull your face to his and shove his tongue between your lips, humming into it. The wet paps of his cock bottoming out in you seem to echo. “That’s it, you’re my little bitch. Mine to ruin and abuse, right? Say it.”

“M’ yours,” you cry out, taking a few gasped breaths.

The precise thrusts get sloppier and faster the closer he gets to his orgasm, chasing his own with soft grunts and moans. And as his painfully tight grip on your ass gets even more bruising he gets closer and closer, pounding into you until you can feel his balls pull closer to you and his thighs tense. He doesn’t stop though, a choked moan of your name rolling from his lips for the first time tonight. “You’re all mine.” One of his huge hands comes to cup your bouncing breasts while his other comes to rub your clit.

The sharp sounds of your bodies meeting with each pump fills the room, and then, with a few sloppy thrusts, he shoots his hot, wet ropes of cum inside you. The building pressure in your stomach coils down when he moans loudly, the sound almost a song, and pushes you over the edge. You have to rely fully on him to carry you through your orgasm, because your legs give out entirely and you’re left a shaking, limp mess of a person. After a few seconds he allows you to collapse into his arms, cock still inside you while your head rests on his heaving chest.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, just lingering in the silence, before Hajime rolls you to the side and pulls out, wincing mutely at the over stimulation. He leaves you on the floor, but puts a thick, heavy coat over your naked body before he stands up, not that you have the ability to process it anyway. You don’t have the energy to move yourself, let alone care about much else besides the call for sleep and the ache between your legs.

“I’ll be back,” he only says, not bothering to clean you up, “wait here.” You’re too exhausted to comprehend his words, and fall asleep almost right away.

+

You wake up with a startle when something taps your foot, shooting back a little. It’s already bright out, eyes fluttering to adjust to the clarity of the sky outside the windows. You don’t feel rested at all, you’re cold and your joints feel so sore, but there’s a strange peace over your mind. One that another impatient kick to your foot disrupts very easily. “Come, little one.”

With a pout, your manage to squint up at him, only to fall completely silent as he reaches out a hand. He’s covered in thick coats of blood, on his arms, chest, thighs. It even got splattered on his face. There’s a gash in his eyebrow that you’re sure will scar at least a little, but he doesn’t look bothered. At the very least, not when he helps you up from the floor, placing the pendant in your free hand.

You’re very relieved to find that you’re already wearing your clothes again, and though you’re fairly certain you didn’t put them on yourself, you’re just glad not to be naked in front of him right now. Your legs are still extremely weak. But here’s a deep sense of responsibility that nags at you. “What happened? Are you— okay?” you start, and he barely moves to glance over his shoulder.

“It’s not my blood.” That’s not what you asked though. He must sense your upset, because he pulls you a bit closer by your wrist to lean down to you. This time it feels less patronizing and more like an offer of peace, meeting you halfway to brush his fingers under your jaw ever so softly. But still. “I’ll be alright, stop worrying.” He holds your chin a bit longer as he assesses you, before finally leaning in further before you manage to pull back.

In the light of day it’s even more apparent that the man before you isn’t like any other person you’ve seen before, from head to toe radiating an air of confidence and security that you can’t shake no matter how much you try. But you also can’t help but feel guilty being this close to him while he’s still covered in drying blood, sticking to your skin and tinting his hands. There’s nothing casual about what just happened, what you can only imagine took place. People have died for this.

People have died because of you. But the light, righteous way he goes about it is probably what you should’ve expected from a god. “Your life for theirs is what you said, right? There’s nothing that guarantees that they are happy with your sacrifice. I hope it was worth it.”

“It was.”

He sighs, irises catching the light with a glint as he straightens up before you, having you tilting your head all the way back. “If you regret your decision later on, don’t come blaming me. This was your promise, not mine.” He eyes you down, then runs his palm up your neck to your cheek. So easily able to hold and caress you. It’d be sweet if not for the way he had and fucked you last night, leaving you in tears. It’s not even an uphill battle anymore.

“And even if you do, you’re mine. You’re mine or nothing at all.” You’ve roped yourself into a lifetime of sacrifice for your family. All you can hope is that they’ll remember you for it. He leans down to kiss your forehead, before pulling you close to him. His lips also glide along your ear and lay a few kisses there, before he speaks. “If you try to run anywhere, I’ll snap that pretty neck of yours myself. That’s a promise, little one.”

Soft clouds of white still leave his lips with every exhale in the crisp air up so high, leaving you mentally wrecked when he pulls back. Despite everything pointing to his lack of humanity, there’s something so strangely, absolutely recognizable about him when he’s so close to you. His temper, lack of tact and the jealousy already burning under his skin are too familiar. Human, warm and real. Though you don’t illusion yourself relating to a god, of all things.

kageyama tobio x f!reader 

tags: virgin reader, overstimulation, vibrator, mild dacryphilia, praise kink

kageyama has you caged within his arms, convulsing on his lap as he holds the small vibrator to your clit. when you told him that you’d never cum before, he was determined to show you how good orgasms could be.

he’s still fully clothed, but you’re naked, leaning against his broad chest, his legs holding yours open for his use. you’ve cum twice already in the past fifteen minutes, but he won’t stop.

“tobio, i—it’s too much—“ you whimper, struggling against his arms, but he just buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hold on the vibrator unrelenting.

“just making you feel good…” he murmurs quietly, his lips grazing your skin.

wirh every vibration your body jerks involuntarily, the sensitivity from earlier orgasms overwhelming you. unknowingly you start to cry as the coil in your stomach tightens again.

kageyama lets out a satisfied grunt, picking up the tears with his tongue. you can feel the insistent bulge poking your ass, the way he intermittently thrusted up against you.

“give me another one,” he demands and you want to tell him no—you can’t—it’s too much—but you can’t form the words, little gasps and hiccups spilling out of your mouth instead.

“be a good girl and i’ll put my cock inside you after this,” kageyama tells you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “fuck my little virgin till she cums again…”

he raises his other hand to fondle your breasts and suddenly you’re cumming again, your pussy gushing against the plastic toy, sobbing tobio, tobio, tobio. he slides it against your clit again and again until your orgasm subsides, your body still wracked with shivers.

“you did so good,” he clutches your jaw, turning your face towards him, “can’t wait to fuck you, baby.”

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄.

sakura, ume, suo, kaji, kiryu, endo, togame.

"ever imagined how it'd be like to be in the mood with them but damn it. You're separated by distance? Mhm. I got just the thing for you."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: PHONE SEGGS UH OH!, language language swearing swearing, AFAB!reader, ume switchy :o, endo's a fucking menace :((((, TOGAMMMMEEEEEEE *howls!!!!! barks foaming at the mouth*, toy usage, your man straight up “jorking it” and by it haha well lets justr say his peanits, degradation on endo's part--general seggsy time stuff and needy boyfriends, NSFW STUFF MINORS DON’T INTERACT PLS.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

✦ gotta guide him through it. At first, he didn’t really see the appeal of it. Why do it over the phone when you could meet up instead. ✦ but OH once he’s in the zone though, ONCE HE UNDERSTANDS? SEES THE LIGHT????? I’m wishing your pussy good luck because you’re doing it often. ✦ your phone rings sometimes at 2 am and you’re met with a panting Sakura. He sounds so apologetic too — he’s fought against calling you and just handling it himself. But he couldn’t help it. He has to call you. To hear you. ✦ “Strokin’ my cock right now. F-fuck m’sorry but can ya touch yourself for me too? Couldn’t get ya outta my head and I—ngh.. Need t’cum. Please, baby. It’ll be quick. Promise.” ✦ narrator’s voice: it was in fact, not quick at all. ✦ he likes sending over voicemails at night when he knows you're alone, when he's needy (which is often). ✦ it's mostly just of him panting into the receiver, recalling the events of the day and how each thing you did turned him on. You often end up sending each other voicemails to quench the thirst but god damn it. That doesn't come close to fucking.

𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀.

✦ another one of the ":o I don't see the appeal of phone sex when we could just see each other instead?" gang. He sees the vision real quick when you dropped something while you were talking though. You bent down to pick it up and let out a soft grunt. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering. ✦ BIG ON PRAISE. GRUNTS AND SIGHS INTO THE RECIEVER LIKE HIS LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. LOVES DOING IT WHILE HE'S LAYING DOWN, PANTS HURRIEDLY UNBUCKLED AND MESSY, SHIRT HAPHAZARDLY THROWN TO THE SIDE. PHONE WEDGED IN BETWEEN HIS CHEEK AND SHOULDER WHILE HE STARTS STROKING WITH ONE HAND AND THE OTHER TANGLED IN HIS HAIR, GRIPPING IT LIKE YOU WOULD--(gets dragged off stage kicking and screaming) ✦ big switch. He's Umemiya, after all. He's the feared and respected leader of the Bofurin for a damn reason. Very sweet when he's just in the mood on a random day, chuckling in between because that's just how the both of you are. It's fun! But when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days? Oh FUCK. When his voice would normally grow soft and whiney, has morphed into growled responses with him fucking his fist desperately, trying to remember how your cunt would swallow him whole. ✦ "G-Good girl, my good fuckin' girl. Filling your pussy up with that dildo you bought? Not good enough, huh?" he adds, grunting as he's imagining you fucking yourself with the dildo, panting and unsatisfied, knowing full well you need him filling you up instead. "I really miss you, babe. You'd look so pretty-gh-! Underneath me right now. So pretty." ✦ cums hard every time you're on call, grunting and wheezing out your name so desperately you almost feel like he's trying to summon you somehow. ✦ Thanks you for it too. It's cute!!! Ends with both of you cleaning yourselves up, still on call. You both often fall asleep together with your phones still on.

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

✦ you both call often. He just loves hearing your voice! Thing is, you never know when he's in the mood. But he somehow can tell whenever you are. What gave it away? Was it the way your breathing stilled when he let out a sigh when he stretched? Was it the way you tripped over your words when he lowered his voice just a tad? Was it when you were left speechless when he praised you for finishing a task you were putting off? Was his teasing working on you? Whoopsies. ✦ INSTRUCTIONAL WITH IT. He’s so good at directing you what to do. ✦ “Want you to imagine my fingers, dove. Why don’t you ease just two in for me? That’s my girl. Now curl them up a little. Keep your mind on me." ✦ you want him to feel good too :(((((( so you ask for him to do the same as you. Of course, he lets you beg a little first. Little did you know he was already fucking his fist before you even started. ✦ has one of your clothes or panties close by because he loves smelling them. He loves your scent. It helps him get off. Hell, he gets horny in public when he takes a whiff of your perfume. ✦ he gets more vocal when he cums and that’s when you KNOW for sure he’s jacking off while listening to you. String of expletives and grunts escape his lips while he spills onto his hand, dribbling down his knuckles while you’re riding out your high.

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

✦ FILTHY. FILTHY. FILTHY. ✦ doesn't have much toys but he has a tenga flip and uses it whenever he calls you. Can’t just go full hand and lube. (Probably has a warmer for it too. Mhm. Yeah.) ✦ another "clothes stealer". Has stolen your panties and shirts a couple of times. ✦ you can hear the wet squelching through the phone whenever he thrusts. Whether it’s lube or his cum, you could never ever tell. ✦ AGAIN, FILTHY. SO SO SO SO FILTHY. ✦ “y’getting off to this, huh? Listening to me fuck my toy? Fuckin’ know you’re soaking wet for me now. Lemme hear it. Lemme hear my pussy.” ✦ “keep up with me. Don’t you fuckin’ cum until I say so.” He barks, but he ends up cumming before you. He’s still pumping his sensitive cock waaay after he’s released though. He wants to hear you fall apart. ✦ bites back his whimpers but when he cums? Jesus. He’s stuttering out your name, repeating it like a damn prayer.

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

✦ HAS SO MUCH TOYS HOLY FUCK. ✦ he sends over photos of them before he calls, wanting you (yes YOU, dear reader!) to pick the toy of the night!!! ✦ he’d much prefer doing your mutual masturbation over facetime but you suggested a voice call. Who is he to deny his princess? ✦ always opens with a syrupy sweet, “How’s my baby?” and eases you into it with him. He never starts without you or without your express approval. If you’re suddenly not in the mood, he gets it. It happens sometimes. You guys could just talk instead. ✦ praise praise praise. Whispers the raunchiest and sweetest things to you. Talks you through it, guides you. HE’S WAY TOO GOOD. ✦ “Need my pretty princess right now. Need ya to sit on my face—taste so good. Fuck… Your pretty little moans too. I’m addicted.” ✦ “Remember when I did that thing you liked with my tongue? Yeah? Want you to do that on your clit with your fingers. Circle around it f’me, princess. Mhm.. Oh? Not good enough? Need my piercing on it? Naughty.” ✦ PORNOGRAPHIC MOANS. SO FUCKING PRETTY??? You’ve asked for his permission to record some of them. Of course he lets you. ✦ sends photos of the aftermath if you want him to. His cum on his still clenched abs, his trimmed happy trail, over his belly button piercing. Yum. ✦ HAS DEFINITELY POSTED ON GWA YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.(it’s JOI too :(((( he’s secretly dedicated some audios for you. May or may not have accidentally whispered your name in one of his jerk off with me audios too :(((((((( man I’m sobbing into my pillow. Nobody touch me.)

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

✦ you can’t look at this man and say he’s shit at phone sex. You can’t convince me otherwise. You just can’t. ✦ of course, he’s absolutely cracked at talking dirty to you. It’s always a mix of praise and degradation with him. ✦ he’d be happy if you just sent him nudes, really. But he’s over the moon once you suggested to do it over a call. Immediately is palming his hard on through his jeans while he’s waiting for you to pick up. Opens with a casual little, “hey, honey,” you wouldn’t know he’s practically going to town on his cock, hot to go. ✦ with how sweet he could be to you, he could be so, so fucking mean too. ✦ “My, my. That was such a pretty sound you just made. Wanna do that again for me? Wanna hear my pretty little cockslut begging for me while I fuck my fist. Yeaaah, just like that. Louder.” ✦ the type to send in voicemails at random times of the day. You know they’re exclusively for you since he’s practically chanting out your name while he fucks himself. You’ve made the mistake (plenty of times) of listening to some of them in public. Thank god your phone wasn’t on full volume but people definitely heard your boyfriend fucking his fist. ✦ you put him in his place when you get home by tying him down to the bed and edging him to hell and back and back again and back again and back again and—

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

✦ THIS MANNN…. He knows how to use his voice. He KNOWS HOW TO USE HIS VOICE SOMEONE HOLD ME THE FUCK BACK— ✦ he really doesn't like texting. So you both often call each other at the end of the day when you're apart. You're often apart too, with work and with it taking you to different cities. He's home alone at your apartment with your pets, with your clothes beside him on the couch. See where this is going? :-)) ✦ "Miss ya. Fuck, I really miss ya. Even the cats miss yer constant yappin'-" he teases and he's palming his cock through his gray sweatpants when he hears you shoot a clever quip at him. "Mhh-doll, I really do fuckin' miss ya. Especially when we wake up in the mornin'? Yeah. When ya press yer ass up against me, miss how ya know how to touch me just right-" "Jo, are you touching yourself right now?" he has the gall to chuckle. "Wanna see?" He was so ready to switch to facetime, to show you how he's lazily dragging his fingers up and down his throbbing cock, gray sweatpants pulled down just enough to pull it out. But you wanna stay on the call. You're rushing to your bed, hand in your shorts as soon as you lay down. ✦ likes dirty talking. LOVES when you talk dirty to him back. He's whispering phrases like, "mhm, yeah?", "what do ya want me t'do to ya when you get back?", "what else, angel?" prodding you on, urging you to express your deepest desires to him because he's NEEDY NEEDY NEEDY. (He knows you're as eager as he is too) ✦ wants to cum with you so he edges himself until you say you're almost there. Wants to match your pace and tries to by listening to your breathing, the rhythm of your moans. Never fails to tell you he loves you after he cums. ✦ promises a huge surprise for you when you get back :-)

a/n: THESE WERE SO FUCKING FUN TO DO RRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHHRHRHR!!!!!!!!!!!!! *insert werewolf ripping clothes open meme here* I hope you guys like it. The brainworms are wriggling mighty strong.

i feel like i died a very long time ago and now nothing thats happening is real

partition | miya atsumu

pairing: atsumu x f! reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: inspired by Beyoncé’s “Partition”! what starts off as a simple limo ride to a team dinner with atsumu soon turns into you not being able to keep your hands off of each other, looking so irresistible he just can’t help himself. 

warnings: smut, car sex, slight voyeurism, overstimulation, dumbification, rough sex, dacryphilia, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, daddy! kink, multiple orgasms, swearing, really nasty 

a/n: if you haven’t heard this song, please go listen to it first oh my god the lyrics hot as fuck. of course i had to write a dirty, filthy, smutty ass fic for this, and honestly i can completely see atsumu in this situation.

the click of your heels was sharp against the marble floor, making your way across your ridiculously large bathroom as you adjusted an earring. Atsumu had a team dinner tonight, meaning a long ride to an even longer dinner at whatever high end restaurant had been chosen for the occasion. being engaged to a professional volleyball player came with its share of events and all around tight schedules, but you wouldn’t trade him for the world. you had grown accustomed to nights like these, enjoying the company of his lively teammates and getting all dolled up to go out.

with one last glance into the full body mirror, smoothing down your sleek black dress, you stepped into your bedroom, Atsumu standing in front of a wall with a smaller mirror as he adjusted his tie. his mischievous gaze found your reflection, smirking as he took in the sight of you. a low whistle sounded throughout the room as he eyed you up and down, the dress hugging every curve and dip of your body. a simple dress, really, but severely overpriced. despite the cost it did look quite good though, or rather you made it look good.

“you look gorgeous, darlin’.” the nickname rolled off Atsumu’s tongue with a sultry bite, his naughty eyes practically undressing you right there. with a light chuckle you walked over to him, placing a hand on one of his broad shoulders, looking at the both of you in the mirror.

“thank you, Tsumu. we do look fucking good, don’t we?” his laugh was deep and amused as it rumbled out from his chest, eyes crinkling in agreement. hands still messing with his tie, Atsumu leaned over, teeth nipping at your earlobe. the light tug had chills tingling down your spine, but you kept your composure as you pushed him gently, muttering something about how he was taking his sweet time then going back to your closet to get a jacket before you left.

“where you goin, y/n?” he called teasingly, apparently not finished with his playful antics and suggestive smirks. “I wasn’t done lookin at you!”

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