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eashn · 10 months

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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 :)