Mona Reading Kageyama - Tumblr Posts

hq | how they jack off

with kuroo, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, saeko, and kageyama.

summary: hq characters and their masturbation habits

warnings: NSFW content, fem!reader, male and female masturbation, mentions of rough sex, mentions of oral sex (male and female receiving), phone sex, anal play, bruising, light dom/sub dynamics here and there, many many mentions of tits and ass, mention of fingering

A/N - i rewatched haikyuu and these fuckers starting screwing around in my brain again like they owned the place so here’s what came of that. happy reading, expect more of this crap soon lmao

Kuroo Tetsurō

filthy with it

needs his hand slick—with lube, lotion, spit. whatever’s closest.

he’s rough. rubs himself ragged and sweats through his sheets

grunts and groans, mutters your name here and there

usually goes multiple rounds

That’s it—fuck, baby,” Kuroo rasped, pumping his length in his cum-coated fingers. He’d already finished twice to the thought of his cock in your pretty mouth.

His sheets were damp beneath him and the salty tang of sweat clouded the air, but he didn’t give a damn. All he could think about was you. Your deft hands. Your lips, slick with drool. Your glassy eyes staring up at him as he fucked his cockhead down your throat. He groaned at the image, tightening his sticky fingers around his shaft. 

“Like that,” he muttered, wishing it was really you. Because despite the lewd glide of his palm, the puddles of cum crusting on his abdomen, this was nowhere as obscene as the real thing: your wanton whines and moans, the filthy sound of skin slapping skin. God, he wanted to mess you up—make you feel just as dirty as he felt right now. No matter how many times he’d already seen it, he craved to watch you fall apart beneath him again. 

Bokuto Kōtarō

desperate

god, bokuto doesn’t even like masturbating—the feeling’s nowhere near what it’s like to be with you 

but when bokuto needs it, he needs it bad

he’s loud: gasping moans and vulgar, noisy thrusts into his palm

fists his sheets as if he’s grabbing at your skin

He hated that he was doing it—it felt wrong, felt like betrayal. He didn’t want anyone but you to make him feel good. Fuck, it wasn’t like his hand felt nearly as good as the tight grip of your cunt anyways.

But he couldn’t help it, could he? Not after he’d seen that cute little selfie you sent him. 

He whined, squeezing his cock in one hand and his phone in the other as he stared at picture—at your soft, pretty smile and flushed cheeks, and lower…the white tank you’d chosen to wear for the day’s heat. It was just slightly damp at the collar; beads of sweat pooled in the hollow of your throat. He’d twitched in his pants when he caught that, images of you slick and sweaty beneath him clouding his mind. “Darlin’,” he moaned when he noticed the way the shirt hugged your tits. Shit, he wanted—no, needed that body in his hands, that body he called absolutely perfect no matter how much you disagreed. His fingers slid up and down his shaft, faster and faster, as he squeezed his eyes shut and imagined bucking up into you. He wanted those perky tits bouncing in front of his face, your needy whines filling his ears, your grabby hands winding their way into his hair—

“Fuck,” he breathed, halting his motions and staring at the phone in his hand. He had an idea. 

And before he knew it, Bokuto was hitting the Video Call button and positioning himself in front of the camera. 

Oikawa Tōru

usually a bitchy top, oikawa gets so subby when you’re not around 

he knows you like being tossed around, so he’s always given you that—happily so

but tōru’s never met your dominant side, the one that’d love to replace the desperate fingers he’s got in his ass with a nice, meaty strap-on

or ride his cock till he was begging you to stop

so he keeps those fantasies a secret for now. 

but, oh, he’s a slutty mfer. edges himself and whines your name. dirty talks into his pillow like he’s being filmed

“Please—please, baby, wanna cum—fuck, please let me cum—” 

On his elbows and knees, Oikawa shoved his face into the mattress, bucking his hips into his hand. Drool dribbled from his parted lips as he fucked his fist, imagining it was you. His back arched beautifully—if you were there, you’d have a perfect view of the little buttplug in his ass. 

“Need…you,” he whimpered, wiping the drool with his other hand. “Need that cunt—please.” God, he sounded like a bitch. He wanted you to say so, to degrade him like the whore he knew he was. “Aw, Tōru. You’re a dirty thing, aren’t you.”  He keened, imagining that kind of filth tumble from your rosy lips. And, burying his face back into his sheets, Oikawa came.

Iwaizumi Hajime

big BURLY man but he looks so pretty spread out on his couch, thick cock in hand

usually ends up doing it after working out; the testosterone’s flowing and all that 

a groaner. dark and low, iwa growls your name

flips through dirty pics of you on his phone while doing it

uses spit as lube. he’s a frugal man—doesn’t like spending money on something nice when something shitty does the job

spit’s quicker anyway. he’s eager when he needs release.

It was all he could think of the minute he got home from the gym: your pert little ass in front of him as he pounded into you from behind. God, he was pervy. He was disgusting for wanting you like this, every goddamn time after a good lift. 

But, fucking hell. He needed to cum. 

Dumping his bag on the floor, yanking out his phone, Iwa slumped down onto the couch—not even making it to his bedroom. In seconds, his cock was in his hand and his phone was open to the photos you’d taken the last time you fucked. You: in doggy, his seed smeared across your asscheeks and leaking from your hole. His handprints and his hickies all over your skin. 

“Pretty girl,” Iwa snarled, tilting his head back and thumbing the precum dribbling from his tip. He spat obscenely in one hand, grasping his shaft and pumping it up and down, up and down, nice and slow. 

“That’s it, babygirl,” he groaned, seeing your bare skin behind squeezed-shut eyes, envisioning himself groping your flesh. “Take it—fuck—take it all.”

Tanaka Saeko

fuck me up mama

LOUD by nature—she’s grunty and whiny, she groans and she gasps. 

buries her face in her pillowcase to keep it quiet 

used to invest generously in lube, but fuck, she doesn’t need it anymore. she gets wet enough at the thought of you: slick and pliant beneath her

sends you dirty audio recordings sometimes, of herself saying all the scummy, kinky things she knows get you going 

“Oh, darling I wanna taste that cunt again,” Saeko growled into her phone, hoping the mic picked up the lewd sound of her fingers at work in the gaps between the words. She was going at it—slipping them in and out, rubbing her puffy clit, whining at the feeling. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” she panted, “Miss havin’ you on my tongue.” She was babbling now—groaning nonsense about all the filthy things she wanted to do to you. “Wanna leave my mark all over you, sweet girl—hickies on your thighs, on those tits—fuck.” 

She whimpered, the image of your perfect breasts swimming behind her eyes. She remembered the last time you’d been intimate together: the dark, red and purple splotches she’d left all over your chest, your neck, your waist. Saeko knew they wouldn’t have faded yet. You were still walking around, marred with the evidence of her. She clenched around her fingers at the thought. “God, wanna…ruin you, babe,” she whined, picking up her pace. “Need everyone to know…you’re mine.”

Kageyama Tobio

ashamed of the act. does it in the shower to feel less gross

since meeting you, kageyama’s far better about communicating his needs: sexual or otherwise. but years of repression are hard to unlearn, and he reverts to his old ways sometimes. his masturbation habits are a prime example of this 

he’s terrified of asking you for too much. it feels wrong to want you as much as he does—as often as he does. he’s convinced you’ll think him perverted if he admits to it

so he settles for fixing his problems himself, under warm water and in clench-jawed silence

bites down on a knuckle to keep his sounds at bay, but…sometimes?

sometimes, he whimpers. 

The water was tepid, but liquid heat was bleeding through Kageyama’s veins. He squeezed his length in one soapy hand, gliding his fingers up and down . His other hand was clasped prettily over his mouth. 

Because he couldn’t let you hear him.

You were right outside the bathroom—stretched out lazily on his bed, reading something on your computer. God, you hadn’t been trying to seduce him, he knew that. But seeing you in those plush little lounge shorts, in that tight, worn t-shirt that hugged your braless tits…oh, fuck. He’d mumbled something about needing to shower and then ran the hell out of there. 

And now: he felt so depraved. Sudsy water streamed down his tense muscles as he worked his cock, rutting his hips into his hand. He shouldn’t want you like this; you were clever and soft and you deserved more than the vulgar way he kept groaning your name. “Baby,” he whined softly, envisioning the gentle curve of your breasts in that godforsaken shirt. He wanted to tear the damn thing off you, grab each tit in his hands, tweak your pert nipples, and bury his face right in between—

“Fuck,” he mewled. Loudly. 

“Tobio?” your voice called from the other room. 

Shit, Kageyama thought. Shit, shit, shit. But it was fine, right? You were locked out of the bathroom. You couldn’t see him like this.  

But then, in horror, Kageyama watched the doorknob turn. His blood ran cold as he realized: he’d forgotten to lock the door. 

thank you so much for reading!

requests for more hikayuu headcannons/drabbles are officially OPEN! please drop by with your ideas and follow @eashn for more :)

Hi!! Just saw ur post announcing that you’ll be taking requests so I’d love to send one in! I would love love LOVE a timeskip! Tobio x supermodel/influencer/celebrity gf who is like the IT girl of Tokyo and is super gorgeous Bcs I’ve just forever had this thought that timeskip tobio just SUITS so well w like specifically a famous celebrity that compliments him yk?? And not to mention he’s also canonically attractive like YESS. It just makes so much sense bcs I def think Kageyama fits into the unpopular/quiet guy trope with the ultimate sunshine/popular gf yk?? So so excited to read it!! <33

i LOVEEE this idea. i think his personality perfectly contrasts a popular/famous cosmo girl. i kind of went crazy with this one, and it has it's own little twist on it so the two aren't initially dating (also enjoy the lev cameo <3). hope you like it!!

timeskip! kageyama x celebrity/model! reader

4.0k words

----

You live a pretty normal life. You have lots of friends, lots of clothes, and your very own makeup brand. Plus, you have millions of followers on all of your social medias, enough brand deals and fan mail to fill up an entire house, and weekly photoshoots for fashion magazines. And not to mention a beautiful penthouse in the most expensive part of Tokyo. Okay, maybe your life isn't that normal.

At only 23, you've been on the cover of famous magazines (both in your home country and abroad), developed your own million-dollar beauty brand, and even starred in a few popular movies. The spotlight has always seemed to find you.

When you were younger, you participated in pageants, first locally and eventually moving up to larger-scale competitions. You would start to get spots in commercials for random products. You had become locally well-known, however it would be at the end of your teens that you would be catapulted into real stardom.

When you were 19, you were crowned Miss Universe Japan and were the runner-up for the Miss Universe competition. Ever since, you had become a national celebrity and were known internationally as well. You now lived a lavish lifestyle and surrounded yourself with glamorous possessions and people (though not to say you didn't appreciate and even miss your life before fame). As Tokyo's beloved 'it' girl, your life is exciting and lots of business at the same time.

Which brings you to now, you were sitting in the backseat of your car after just leaving your manager's office. You kept replaying the conversation you just had with Mr. Gushiken.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say" you admitted.

"You're going on 24 (Y/n), and you've never publicly dated anyone! You're going to become less relatable if you keep it up" he warned. Your manager has been on your case about getting into a relationship to boost people's view of you. Personally, you didn't care how relatable you are, but the more you thought the more you realized people might find it weird that their favorite megastar hasn't shown any sign of a love life. That didn't mean you wanted a 'pr' relationship though. You want love to find you, you don't want to force it or fake it. If that means waiting for the right person then so be it.

When you finally come back to reality, your driver informs you that you're almost to your destination. Your manager booked you a shoot for some designer handbag brand that's going to pay you a large sum for the photos. You're even getting a free purse from their new line, so you're not going to complain.

Entering the studio, you're greeted by an intern and shown to the set area. You're caught off guard when you see Lev Haiba at the set with you. You are aware of him, though you've never collaborated with him before. You most often see him in perfume/cologne advertisements, while you usually appear for fashion brands.

With the context that your manager wants you in a relationship, though, you start thinking that maybe you're being set up. A sinking feeling in your chest causes you to consider what dating Lev would be like, and then onto Lev himself. What is he like?

"Hey (L/n), it's nice to work with you!" Lev excitedly greets you. He has a wide grin on his face and talks faster than you can even keep up with.

"I'm happy to work with you too Lev" you smile back. You make your decision then and there.

Lev is very handsome, he's a model for crying out loud! But he isn't your type. Superficially, you've always been into tall guys with dark hair. But honestly, appearance didn't matter to you as long as he had certain other traits. Personality-wise, you liked when guys aren't like yourself. You find yourself clashing with Lev simply because the two of you are very similar in your dispositions. It's nice as a friend and colleague relationship, but you don't see it working out romantically.

"Alright Ms. (L/n), please follow me" a younger man calls for your attention and lead you to a dressing/makeup room. Your makeup took a little over half an hour, and then you were helped into the elegant red dress you were given for the shoot.

Following the same man back out, you see Lev already waiting for you so the shoot can begin. You shake hands with the photographer before getting some individual shots with the bags. Then, they decide to have the two of you do some photos together. At first, it's innocent enough, but then they start asking you to get into some slightly more intimate poses. For example, the photographer has their intern move you two into a pose where your back is to Lev's chest. They have him place his arms around you while you hold a handbag (and he has one over his shoulder). It's a very couple-y pose and you can just picture your manager scheming with the shoot photographer. The thing that finally puts you over the edge is when they expect you and Lev to kiss. That basically confirms your suspicion that this was some sort of plot to make the public see you and Lev as a couple and spark a pr relationship between two models. Your heart picks up its pace, but not in a positive way. You start to breathe heavier and feel on the bring of an anxiety attack. The only thing really stopping you is knowing how it could affect your reputation.

It's too much. I need to get out of here.

You settle for a kiss on the cheek, before announcing that you're not feeling very well and rushing off the set and back to your dressing room. You chug from your water bottle and breathe deeply, knuckles white as you clutch the edge of the table. You give yourself a few minutes to breathe before quickly getting out of the red dress and slipping into a slightly more casual black one. You grab your purse and walk back down the hallway, saying thank yous and byes to people as you go.

You give a more personal goodbye to Lev, and give him a kind smile to show that it's not his fault that you ran out. He smiles back at you in understanding as you leave the building, your driver waiting out front for you. The sun is getting lower in the sky, and the streets are still bustling.

After that interesting shoot, you really need to unwind. You have your driver bring you to an upscale club in the heart of Tokyo. You aren't an alcoholic by any means, but you really wanted a distraction and didn't think you would find it in your quiet apartment.

 Finally reaching your destination, your bodyguard opens the door for you. You thank your driver before walking up to the entrance of the club. Several of the people in line excitedly point at you, whisper-shouting that you're even prettier in person and various other compliments. You grin at them before happily greeting the bouncer. This is a club you frequent, and the bouncer is used to seeing you.

You walk inside and immediately feel the speakers vibrating the floor. This dark front hallway merely conceals the colorful dance floor and lit-up bar. One of your favorite things about this club is the lighting perfect for insta pictures. You say hi to some of the people you recognize before feeling the need for a drink.

You head to the VIP section and take a seat. Your bodyguard is hidden away in the back, giving you some semblance of privacy while still ensuring that he'll be ready at a moment's notice, though you doubt you'll need his assistance here. While waiting for the server, you look down from the indoor balcony that gives a view of the dance floor. There are actually a lot more people here than usual, now that you think about it. There's a lot of really tall, really hot guys here tonight on top of that. A server comes by and you order a drink before asking about all of the extra people here tonight. He tells you that Japan's national volleyball team are here

You wait for your drink by doing some more people-watching. You look around the VIP area from the chair you're on when your gaze falls on a man across the room. He seems vaguely familiar, but you can't put a name to the face you're currently openly staring at. He's insanely attractive and fits the tall, dark, and handsome archetype to a T. Even from where you're sitting you can tell he's particularly muscular, and his features are sharply defined.

Is it cheesy and cliché to say this is love at first sight? You can't think of another way to describe it. You feel your heart start to thump faster in your chest, and unlike earlier it's a positive feeling. You look back at him and to your surprise, find that you're making eye contact with him before he quickly averts his eyes. 

Did you just catch him staring at you? Now you have to find out about him. By going over to him and asking? Well no, he had three other guys currently sitting at his booth with him, which runs the risk of him blowing you off even if he is interested. So you do what makes the most sense and ask random clubgoers about him instead of approaching him. Like any drunk person down there would ignore a pretty girl anyway. You head down to the dance floor, where the music is nearly deafening, and try to ask around to find out who this guy is. It takes only one person to find out the identity of the handsome 'stranger'.

A girl around your age is able to tell you that it's Kageyama Tobio, a professional volleyball player. That explains his excellent physique. You look his name up on your phone and sure enough find the man and numerous pictures of him throughout his career. Damn is he hot, especially in his action shots. You also realize you've definitely seen him online before, probably in a headline as part of his impressive volleyball team without even realizing it. Apparently, he's a very talented setter and a key part of his team, despite being one of the younger ones on the team (when you see he's 24 you want to yell out loud that finally an attractive guy is actually your age and not a questionable amount older).

You're told by others that he's 'emotionally unavailable' and that he is already in a committed relationship (with volleyball) though. You aren't going to let that stop you, plus he was actually staring back at you earlier. That has to count for something! Besides, even if it doesn't work out, the chase itself is fun.

You make your way back up to your seat. You feel eyes on you and find him at the other side of the VIP intently staring at you again. One of his teammates (you assume) is sat across from him, though his attention is clearly on you. You wave at him and give him a flirtatious wink, which causes him to furrow his brows. He looks behind and then around himself while you continue to stare at him. Is he really so surprised you're interested in him? Does he not know how attractive he is?

When he's finally alone, you decide to make your move. Pushing your chair back, you make your way over.

"Hi. Mind if I sit?" you ask. You're not going to beat around the bush or worse- make him feel like he's wasting his time.

He looks at you, likely recognizing you as the beautiful woman across the room that seemed interested in him. He then takes in the rest of you, and you're happy you had decided to wear a short but flattering black dress that highlights your favorite features.

"Hey. No" he shortly responds. He shifts over in the booth despite the entire rest of it being empty. You take the opportunity to be close to him and sit in the area he made space for. You bump his shoulder accidentally before placing your drink down.

You sit down and get a good look at him up close for the first time. You have to say, he's even more attractive in person compared to your phone screen. His eye contact with you is inconsistent, as you'll catch his gaze for a few seconds before he looks away with pink cheeks. "I haven't seen you here before" you say, "what are you doing here tonight?" you question, taking a sip of your drink. You want to hear from him, even though you kind of already know the answer. You look up at him to find him already looking at you, for some reason surprised that a pretty girl is actually this interested in speaking with him. After several moments of his incredulous look, he finally answers you.

"I'm on Japan's national volleyball team" he explained, "we're here for 'team bonding' or something". He doesn't say much but you find yourself hanging on every word he speaks. He has an alluringly deep voice that you noticed more with his longer sentence. "I know who you are" he says.

You're shocked by his sudden assertion. Honestly, you shouldn't be because you're literally one of the most famous people in Tokyo, but still. You honestly feel kind of bad that you hadn't really known who he was when he caught your eye from across the room earlier.

"Really?" you ask.

"Who doesn't?" he responds. 

Kageyama does know you. He knows a lot about you, truthfully. You've been his 'celebrity crush' for several years, ever since he happened to see you on the Miss Universe competition representing his country. 

He had been visiting home, watching tv with his sister. Miwa has always been a big fan of reality tv and beauty competitions. He hadn't really been paying much attention to what she was watching, opting to play some random game on his phone while waiting for dinner. That was until his sister started freaking out and squealing at the tv. Who was the older sibling again?

"Tobio it's her! Miss Universe Japan!" she excitedly shouted. "She's so beautiful" she had quieted down a little, but still had her eyes glued to the screen. Kageyama looked up from his phone and at the screen and was surprised to see a breathtakingly beautiful girl wearing the 'Miss Japan' sash. She was smiling brightly and he felt a thump in his chest even though the smile wasn't directly aimed at him.

Words on the bottom of the screen came up: 'Miss Universe Japan: (L/n) (Y/n)'. He immediately went to look up your name online, and found plenty of pictures of you, along with your instagram with hundreds of thousands of followers. He only scrolled for a few seconds before following you and looking back up at the screen, entranced.

It was a whole new thing to see you in front of him now. Slightly older from the first time he had laid eyes on you, but still just as alluring. Your smile still makes his heart skip.

"Well, I'm honored that the Kageyama Tobio knows me" you say. He merely stares back at you in awe at finally meeting you in person as he tries to think of something to say.

One of your favorite poppy songs comes on and you excitedly jump up. He gets slightly nervous at your quick action.

"Dance with me?" you ask. You have a wide smile on your face and hold your hand out to him.

"I don't dance" he tells you. Which is true. Whenever he comes to clubs or bars, he feels out of place. While his friends and teammates are able to unwind and attract the attention of women, he finds it much harder to do either. He's much too quiet and emotionally reserved to hold the attention of most women, while others are put off by his 'unsettling' smile.

"It'll be fun! There's so many people here no one will be looking at you anyway, you have nothing to be worried about" you reason. You can clearly see the inner turmoil written on his face.

Little do you know, Kageyama is so nervous he's going to embarrass himself in front of you. He's never gotten this much personal attention from such a gorgeous girl, let alone a famous one he'd been crushing on for several years. He's almost always had fangirls, but people have always said he's unapproachable and too volleyball-minded for girls to ever have any attraction beyond physical. You've been talking to him for this long though, so he can't help but think this is different and you might actually be genuinely interested in him.

He mutters a small 'ok' and you take your chance before he can change his mind. You grab his hand and pull him from the booth and down the stairs all the way to the dance floor. Turning around to face him, you have to look up to meet his eyes again. Definitely over 6 foot, but he doesn't tower over you as much as Lev does. It's a good, happy medium. He's standing very stiff and looking around at everyone before he looks back down to you. You give him a warm smile, encouraging him to loosen up a little.

You decide it seems like he needs you to help him. You grab his hands and sway back and forth in a goofy way. He only follows your actions, letting himself be wildly flailed around by you. He can't help the smile that breaks out onto his face, one he hasn't let himself show to anyone in a very long time (due to the many comments people had made about it). When you give him a strange look, he quickly tries to go back to his straight face and pulls his hands out of yours, turning around so you can't see his expression. He's already managed to mess up.

That's not how you see it. You're surprised at how his smile makes you feel. You finally understand what people are talking about when they say they have butterflies in their stomach. You feel light and airy, while also being tied down to this world next to him. Your entire body heats up and you swear you're about to catch on fire. You haven't felt this way for a guy in a very long time, especially not this quickly. Everything about him demands your attention and makes you wish you didn't need to blink so you never have to miss a glimpse of him.

"Your smile is cute" you tell him honestly. It's a little unconventional, but you mean what you say. You can tell it's genuine and true, and that in itself is what makes it so beautiful. He gives you a strange look with something you can't really grasp. The best way to describe it is like he's really seeing you for the first time. Not just your face, your body, your looks. He sees into you.

"You're gorgeous" he tells you. It's something you've heard thousands of times but it holds an entirely different meaning when you hear it from his mouth. You glance up at him and find him giving you an intense look of admiration and maybe even more.

"Kiss me" you whisper. He doesn't respond verbally, and instead grants you your request. The butterflies in your stomach explode and go all over your body. It's an amazing sensation that leads you wanting more. His lips are slightly chapped, and you have to admit he seems slightly inexperienced, but you don't care. If anything, it's endearing. You hear some of the people (they sound like guys so you guess they're probably his teammates) whistle and holler in your general direction, but neither of you pay any mind to it. His arms fold around your back and pull you in closer, causing you to reach up and place your arms over his shoulders and around his neck. After what feels like forever, you pull away though he follows you. You hide your face and just embrace him. He's so warm and the feeling calms you. You feel safe with him, and wish the two of you could just be alone with each other.

You tell him as much, and he offers up his place for the two of you to go. You smile at him before texting your driver and your bodyguard (who was watching you now), telling them the address you would be heading to.

Honestly, the rest of the night is history.

----

A package turned up at your apartment, something which at first makes you a little nervous. Being as famous as you are, it's unsettling to think a 'fan' might show up at your door or have bad intentions with you. Fortunately, the package is addressed to you from your manager. Why not just text me, we're in the 21st century? you think, but pass it off as him being an 'old man' (he's about 50, so you decide).

You sit down with the package on the couch in your patio. Opening it up, you find one of the most popular celeb news magazines and immediately recognize the two people on the cover. It's a picture of you and Tobio walking down the sidewalk after one of your recent coffee dates. He had been walking you to one of your friends apartment buildings to visit her (and more importantly her dog). The photographer had caught you animatedly talking about God knows what, but you were more interested in Tobio. He was looking at you intently with the faintest smile that most people probably wouldn't notice. If they didn't notice that, though, they definitely would notice the look in his eyes: lovestruck. If it was a cartoon you were sure he would have literal hearts in his eyes. You held your frappuccino in the hand not intertwined with Tobio's. Though you could find paparazzi annoying and even creepy at times, you have to admit you love everything about this picture.

The picture of course has a caption. In big letters it reads:

'Tokyo's Hottest New Couple!: (L/n) (Y/n) & Kageyama Tobio are official!'

You can't help the smile on your face. Flipping through the pages, you finally come to the one about you and Kageyama. A small slip of paper falls out when you do so, and you find it's a note from your manager:

Congratulations on front cover again. He's a keeper - Gushiken-san

"What's that?" a familiar voice behind you questions. You feel arms wrap around you and you smile. It seems someone's finally gotten out of bed.

"Us" you show him the cover, to which he makes a low hum in response.

"I'm putting this on the fridge" you joke. You turn around to face him in all of his bedhead glory, wrapping your arms up around his shoulders.

"Seriously? I look weird in that picture" he scoffs. You playfully swat him for making such an objectively wrong claim. You always help him with his self-esteem. He never doubts his abilities in volleyball, but in nearly ever other part of his life he needs some assistance. Even now that the two of you are actually dating he doesn't feel worthy enough, friendly enough, attractive enough for someone like you. You do everything you can to convince him otherwise. He is worthy, sweet to you, and definitely attractive enough.

"You look handsome in it! But you always do so I'm not sure why you're surprised" you teasingly flirt. His cheeks darken and you reach up to pinch one. He moves his head away but moves back to gaze sweetly into your eyes. You look back just as sweet, and can't help but be lost in his beautiful blue eyes.

"If you say so" he responds with a kiss to your cheek. You respond with a kiss to his lips, followed by many more.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.