A+ Classmate

A+ Classmate

Geto x Fem Reader x Virgin Gojo

Warnings: 18+. Noncon. Dubcon. Loss of Virginity. Cunnilingus. Coercion. Unprotected Sex. Creampie. Dacryphilia. Cheating. Tit Job. Double Penetration (one hole). Fingering. Multiple Orgasms. Nipple/breast play. Spit. Cumming swallowing. Name calling (slut, toy, etc).

Wc: 4.6k | JJK Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You can feel Satoru's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head as you look down at his piece of paper on the desk, your pencil tapping against the edge of the table while you once more look over everyone's work. He doesn't try hiding it, doing it all afternoon as your group works on finishing the last details of the presentation you will be presenting at the end of the week, his eyes only looking away from you to glance at Suguru, telepathically speaking to him. 

Looking up and handing him back his paper, a few notes scribbled along the edge, interrupting their most recent silent conversation, "Just go through the notes, and everything should be good." 

He looks up at you, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, eyes widened as if he had been caught doing something inappropriate. Satoru takes the paper from you, long fingers skimming over yours, "Thanks." 

You turn away, reaching for the paper Shoko is handing over to you, her face still turned to the screen of her computer as she makes the slides, ignoring Satoru's gaze. Setting the paper in front, you decide to say something as you start skimming over it, "If you want to say something say it, please, instead of burning holes into the side of my skull."

Satoru is taken aback by the tone of your voice, sitting up straighter in his spot, clearing the back of his throat, "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare." 

You don't look up at him, scribbling a note at the end of Shoko's paper and handing it back to her, "Okay. Finish that so we can go home." 

A buzzing sounds across from you, Shoko looks away from her screen to pick up her phone. She starts typing on it while the rest of you continue working, the clicking sound throughout your bedroom. She suddenly breaks the silence that had resettled over the room, gathering her things, "I have to go, but I'll send you the slides later tonight when I get back," she tells you standing up and heading to your bedroom door. She bids her farewell to the two men seated on opposite sides of you, "Bye guys, I'll see you later."

You sigh, returning to work on your own half of the work, silently typing on your computer, noting that Suguru is no longer working on his half, his concentration on Satoru. You watch as they mouth words to each other, clearing your throat before speaking again, "If neither of you is going to work, you can leave. Or you can just ask me whatever it is you're curious about since it's obvious whatever your silently talking about is me."

They both fall silent, Suguru shrugging his shoulders at Satoru, getting up a second later, and pulling a cigarette from his pocket as he heads towards the window. "You ask her," he mutters as he lights it and leans out.

Satoru avoids looking at you, swallowing and scratching the back of his head, now that it's you looking at him. He nervously speaks, which is out of place for him, "Well you see, we heard you're going out with Sukuna...and we just wanted to know if it's true."

You blink a couple of times, turning back to work, responding without care, "It is. But that's really non-"

"Why?" He interrupts, the words spewing out of his mouth without regard for what he's actually saying, "I mean I know you're a girl, but you're not exactly his type. Have you seen what type of girls he hooks up with? You certainly don't fit the type."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're a...you know...prude."

You stare at him, clenching your fists at your side, "I'll have you know Sukuna was the one that approached me."

"Probably on a bet."

"Even if was a bet he's stuck around hasn't he?" You throw back, anger coursing through your body. 

You expect him to say something back, but when you look back at him his looking at you quizzically, head tilting from side to side. He leans closer to the table, breathing out, "Let me see what's got him hooked."

"What? No!" You exclaim, laughing thinking his joking

Satoru stalks towards you on his hands and knees, "Come on, we just want to see what all the fuss is about."

"Stop, 'Toru," you warn, slowly moving away from him, your hair standing up as he approaches you.

But Satoru doesn't stop, he keeps taunting you while slowly cornering you in your bedroom, "I have you and he had sex? I mean it can't be that great, yet you have Sukuna wrapped around your little finger. Did you just spread your legs open for him the first time? He doesn't seem like the type to wait." He looks up at you watching as your face becomes flustered, your eyes avoiding him. "Fuck, I didn't think you were that type of girl, y/n. If I hadn't overheard you and the other girls talking, I'd think you were a virgin. Kinda hard to imagine you spreading your legs for anyone when your nose is always stuck in a book. Much less for Sukuna." He grunts, crawling closer to you, tongue licking his lips, "If you spread them for him, you can spread them for us, right? We've known you longer, it's only fair."

The edge of your bed hits your back, Satoru still crawling towards you, his hand resting near your foot, predatory gaze looking up at you, tongue running over his lower lip. Your heart is thumping rapidly against your ribcage when he grabs onto both your ankles, slowly moving them up your calves while speaking, "Just a taste. Want to know what has Sukuna hanging onto your every word." His hand hook under your knees, sliding down the back of your thighs as you try to get away from his touch, your legs spreading apart as he forces his way between them. 

You look at Suguru with your frightened eyes, scared that Satoru is no longer playing around, nervously chuckling, "Sugu tell him to stop. This isn't funny anymore."

Suguru moves from his spot near the window, killing the cigarette he had been smoking on the trim, looking at you with the same hungry look as Satoru. "Sorry, doll." He grunts, coming next to the two of you, hooking his arm beneath your armpit and raising you onto the bed, stealing you from Satoru's hold. He makes himself comfortable behind you, pressing a few open-mouthed kisses to your neck, whispering in your ear as his fingers trace the column of it, "But I'm just as curious as him." 

His chest is pressed against your back, warm breath fanning over your neck and ears. Satoru moves to the edge of the bed where your feet are, choosing to press a few kisses along your ankles and legs, his blue eyes watching as you try to squirm away from both of them, your waterline teary, "Please, stop. If you stop now, I'll pretend none of this happened."

Suguru clicks his tongue, hands coming down to your thighs to spread them apart again, making room for Satoru to climb into the bed between them, who doesn't stop pressing kisses to your thighs. "I don't think you understand what situation you're in right now, y/n." He lets go of you for a second, hand waving around your bedroom room, "You're alone, with two men, in the middle of the day, in your bedroom." 

You stop to look around the bedroom, vision blurred by the tears falling down your face. He was right, all of your roommates were either at work or school. Not all that, you had soundproofed your room when you first moved in, after finding out that a few of your roommates were early birds. A fact that Suguru made sure to emphasize as his hand groped whatever part of you it could. 

Suguru cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him, smiling as he notices the tears streaming down your face, "So tell me, y/n, are we doing this the easy way, or do you need more convincing?" 

The tears burn the corners of your eyes as you nod, relaxing your legs, showing them that you weren't going to try and keep them from doing whatever they were thinking. "Okay. I'll do whatever you want," you hiccup, looking down at Satoru go smiles at you like a child you just got candy. 

"Good girl," Suguru praises, licking the shell of your ear, "Now first is Satoru, he's been thinking about this since we saw you leave Sukuna's apartment two weeks ago, so it's only fair. Now be the good girl that you are and keep your legs open wide for him, 'kay" Nodding you spread your legs open until there's enough room for Satoru to climb up and his warm breath to fan over your cunt. You pull your skirt up to your waist, holding it in place as Satoru stares at the wet patch forming on your white underwear. Behind you Suguru whistles, moving the hair at the nape of your neck out of the way so he can nip and bite there, "Look at that, didn't even have to tell you to do that. You really are a really good girl. Sukuna's a very lucky man."

All you can do is whine in response, Satoru's tongue licking one sling stripe along your slit up to your clit through your underwear. He repeats the same thing three times, making sure to run his tongue over the wet patch faintly tasting you on the material, before deciding to push them to the side. His long fingers spread your labia, blue eyes fixated on your clenching hole. He mumbles something under his breath that you can't hear before prodding at your entrance with a finger. He doesn't stick the entire thing in, but experimentally curls it upwards, heart thrumming in his chest when you needly move forward and push more in you. His eyes widen when he feels your warm walls clenching around it, muttering "It's so warm."

Suguru laughs behind you, his hands coming under your shirt, "You know, Satoru's never actually seen a pussy before." Now it's your turn for your eyes to widen, looking back at Suguru, questioning if you heard right. "Yeah, he talks all big and shit, but your pretty little cunt is the first pussy he has ever seen."

It all slowly starts to click in your head, the staring, the curious prodding with his finger, the hesitant kisses on your legs. "He's a virgin," you whisper, turning back to look at Satoru, his head still shoved between your legs, tongue drawing circles around your clit before his lips wrap around it. 

He sucks on the bud with enthusiasm, pulling back with it between his teeth before letting it go with a soft pop. His head dips back down to your clenching hole with his tongue, his lips moving as if he were kissing your mouth. The sound of your slick and his lips sound throughout the room, your body writhing between them as his head moves between your thighs, his nose bumping against your clit.

You can barely keep your eyes open as Satoru's tongue messily laps at your cunt, thighs trembling around his head, Suguru's hands kneading your breasts between his fingers. You can feel Satoru humming every time he licks back up to your clit, your body arching into his mouth when he slides a finger next to his mouth, Suguru's skilled fingers tweaking your nipples. There's a small gasp escaping your lips as pleasure replaces the fear and embarrassment from earlier.

Your feel your body warming up, thighs trembling around Satoru's head, and the corner of your eyes no longer stinging from tears. You can feel the familiar sensation of a knot forming in your belly, twisting into itself with every swipe and pinch. The front of your head is starting to feel light, your face burning as your orgasm gets built up by the two men. You gasp for air, your body shaking in its hold, your lungs struggling to keep the air flowing. Your hand reaches down to pull roughly on Satoru's hair, making him groan into your pussy, trying to provide a break from his eagerness, but he's much stronger than you. Too high off of your taste to be stopped, and he just pushes your legs up toward your body, tongue still moving against you and a second finger joining the first. 

"Guys," you huff, " too m-much." 

Satoru doesn't seem to hear you, but Suguru just laughs behind you, the sound making your thighs clench around Satoru's head. "If you cum on his tongue he might stop, but like I said he's been waiting for this so he isn't going to stop until you cum," he mutters, his warm breath in your ear making you shiver and seek solace from the uncomfortable burning in between your legs as your being pulled towards the edge of your release. 

You shift against Suguru, Satoru chasing after you, his hard-on pressing against your back, your head resting on his shoulder the cedar scent of his cologne invading your sense of smell as your body moves against Satoru's tongue, desperate for the knot in the pit of your belly to come undone. 

"Look at you basically riding his face like a little slut. Are you going to cum soon?" Suguru laughs, leaning back against the wall, dark eyes watching as your face twists in pleasure, "I guess the pretty face and sounds your making is why Sukuna's kept you as his toy for as long as he has. I know I would've kept you close, too."

You can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, warmth spreading from the tip of your toes up to the crown of your head. The three of you realize what's happening too late, your legs clasping around Satoru's head, and your back arching Suguru's chest, sliding down his body. "Oh my god, oh god," you chant, eyes squeezing shut and body trembling. Satoru's tongue doesn't stop moving against you, his hands pushing your legs further apart as he tries to get even closer to your quivering body, taking everything you give him.

Above you, Suguru moves his hands along your sides and stomach, smiling as he watches you tremble on the bed and your orgasm wash over you in waves, "Such a pretty sight."

Satoru's tongue is still languidly lapping at your cunt as the last ripples of your climax course through your body. Small whiny hums vibrate from the back of your throat from the sensitivity, and you wriggle away from his lips, sitting up and successfully pushing him off when you press your foot on his shoulder. He pouts up at you, chin coated in your juices, making a show of licking his lips. His fingers still hold onto the back of your thighs kneading the fat. 

Behind you Suguru moves his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it and your bra up to release your breasts. His thumb flicking over one of the nipples, "Feel good," he breathes, lips ghosting over your jaw.

You clear your throat, struggling to bring air into your lungs, and croak, "Y-yeah." 

"Good, 'cause it's my turn, but I think I want to try these pretty tits," he tells you, pulling the nipple between his fingers, and laughing when you yelp. 

You don't complain when he moves out from behind you, pulling your shirt and bra fully off of you, and lays beside you, open-mouthed pressed to your exposed collarbone. He toys with the nipples, pinching and pulling as he kisses down to the valley between your breasts, tongue licking the skin. You don't complain when he takes one of your tits into his mouth and pulls the nipple between his teeth before letting go, only whining when he does it again on the other more harshly, teeth digging into the sensitive bud. 

You're doing everything they ask. Giving them a taste of what Sukuna gets to do to you when you meet up with him. Everything would end once Suguru was done messing with your breast. At least that's what you tell yourself until you hear the clicking of a belt and clothes being shuffled. 

Looking down, around Suguru's head who's blocking your view of the end of the bed, you see Satoru standing up. His pants are being tossed at the end of your bed, large hand wrapped around his hardened cock, stroking himself, the head flushed pink and swollen. He kneels on the bed, spreading your legs open again with one hand. 

"W-what are you doing?" you ask, panic rising in your chest when he pushes your knees up towards your body, "You didn't say anything about going this far." You try to push Suguru away, and maybe put an end to this before things went any further. 

But he's stronger and heavier than you, one arm wrapping underneath you and the other keeping you open for Satoru, who's drooling as he presses his flushed head to your clit, he lets go of your perked bud with a pop. Resting his head on your chest he frowns up at you, "Yeah, but we also didn't say we wouldn't go this far. Are you really going to leave him like that? Look at how hard he is for you, he's practically cumming already," you look up at Satoru, his cock running along your slicked folds, "He's going to think his virgin dick isn't good enough for you. Are you really going to hurt his feelings like that, y/n?"

You chew on your bottom lip as you watch Satoru's cheeks turn red, his length sliding between your lower lips, the head bumping against your clit. With his hand he guides himself down, the head catching your entrance. You whine as the tip pushes in and out quickly. Satoru is in awe by the brief warmth of your walls around it that he does it again, pushing the entire head in this time, his head thrown back as he pulls out and pushes back in. He keeps doing it as you make up your mind, pleasure shooting up your spine every time he does, Suguru's lips wrapping back around your nipple. Looking up at Satoru, watching as sweat travels down his temples and his mouth opened in a small 'o' small whimpers escaping, you don't think you've ever been blessed with such a sight. Giving in, you reach between your bodies, spreading your lips apart for him and relaxing your legs, "Okay, but you can't cum inside."

Satoru looks down at you like a puppy wagging its tail as a treat is held in front of them, already pushing more of himself into your heart, "Really?" You nod your head, hissing as he starts to stretch you.

At the same time, Suguru's lips curl up against your chest, nipping at the bud, before pulling back and praising you, "Good girl." He slides off the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and sweats down, revealing that he hadn't been wearing underwear. His eyes watch as Satoru bottoms out inside of you, mumbling incoherently. He walks up beside him, slapping his back, before crawling up the bed, "How's your first pussy, 'Toru?" 

Shallowly thrusting, your walls squeezing around him, Satoru stutters, sounding out of breath, "A-amazing. Are all pussies this wet and warm? Are they all this tight?" 

Suguru laughs at him, not answering as he moves towards you. He swings one leg over your torso, thumbs rubbing your nipples, and his dick settling between them. "Stick your tongue out," he demands, spitting a glob of spit between the valley of your breasts before pushing them together. You do as he says, your body starting to slide against the sheets as Satoru finds a steady pace, his whimpers and moans filling up the room. "You look pretty like this. A dick between these pretty tits, and your tongue sticking out, waiting for a big cock to fill your mouth," Suguru groans, moving his hips, his dick sliding between your boobs. The head of his cock touches your tongue for a second before he slides back, causing it to disappear from your eyesight. It reappears a second later, the tip touching your lips this time as it slides on your tongue. A sly smile spreads across his face when he sees you wrinkle your nose at the salty tastes of his pre-cum, but you don't close your mouth and look up at him with doe eyes. 

Satoru doesn't seem to be happy at the lack of attention his receiving and he pushes the back of your thighs up to your stomach, your knees making contact with Suguru's back, his dick now kissing your g-spot. A moan sounds at the back of your throat as he keeps brushing against the spot, his rhythm increasing as he chases his high. It's clear that he isn't worried about your pleasure, his hips smacking against yours as he keeps your legs spread, making your head bob up and down in sync with Suguru's thrusts.

You can feel Satoru's thighs trembling, his pace starting to falter, and his whines growing higher. above you, Suguru doesn't seem to be doing much better. Thin eyebrows pinched together while he watches his length slide between your breast and his pre-cum coat your tongue and lips. Reaching down you rub your clit, your walls spasming around Satoru's cock as he brushes against your soft, slowly building your orgasm. 

Satoru's the first to cum, his brain failing to catch up with what is happening and warm spurts of semen coating your walls before he manages to pull out and finish cumming on your navel. He lets out strangled moans, mumbling "I'm sorry's" as he coats your lower half in the rest of his cum. But the way he's looking at the cum he did spill into you, he discovers that his apologies are empty. And if could look at you he would see the same dopey smile Suguru is staring at you feel his warm seed pour out of you. 

"Fuck," He mutters, letting go of your breasts, and wrapping his hand around his cock, stroking himself over your chest. Suguru's head is tossed back as he releases on your breasts, white warm liquid spraying across your chest. He peers down at you, hand still rubbing up and down his length, and sliding up further up the bed to pull your head up, "Open your mouth more." 

Your hands come up to grab onto his thighs, sticking your tongue out more, "Aaah." He pushes the tip in, spurts of salty cum filling the inside of your mouth, making you grimace. 

When he finishes he pulls out, sitting back on you, forcing your mouth to close and swallow his cum. Smirking as he watches you make a face. He doesn't move off after you swallow, his chest rising up and down, looking down at you as he feels your legs rub against each other behind him. Suguru glances behind him, his eyes falling on Satoru whose head is pressed on the edge of the bed, eyes falling closed. "You tired?" he asks him, moving off your chest and pulling you to the end of the bed and picking you up, hooking an arm beneath your ass before laying on his back in the mess of juices on the sheets. 

Satoru barely glances up, mumbling his answer, "A little. Why?"

"Thought we could share," Suguru answers, spreading your lower lips apart, making you whine and wither in his on top.

Perking up, Satoru moves onto the bed, licking his bottom lip as he looks at your spread hole, trailing off as he asks, "You mean we both..."

Suguru reaches between the two of you, running the tip of his length along your folds before pushing the tip in, "Yeah, we both use her pretty little pussy at the same time. She's wet enough, so it shouldn't hurt too much."

You shake your head against Suguru's shoulder, feeling Satoru move up behind you, his cock bobbing against your ass, pleading with both of them, "Two is too much." 

But your plea goes unheard as Satoru speaks over you, his hand wrapping around himself, "Can we both really fit in her pussy?"

Suguru nods, pressing a kiss to your temple, spreading you open more, "Yeah, we just have to be a little careful, but we can both fit."

Satoru groans behind you, "Okay...I think I go one more round." He lines the head of his cock next to Suguru's, his hand resting on your as and rubbing circles as they both start to push in.  

You wiggle between them, pain shooting up your back as they both start to stretch your cunt to its limit. Panic starts to form throughout your body. How are you going to fit both of them in one hole when you already felt so full with just their tips?

You claw the sheets up Suguru's head shaking your head, tears forming on the edges of your eyes, "Sugu it's too much, I can't your both too big."

Suguru smiles up at you, swiping his thumb on your cheek and wiping away a tear, ignoring your begging, "You look so pretty when you cry." 

They both bottom out, Satoru's pelvis pushed against your ass, large hand splayed on your hips. Suguru's arms wrapped around your waist as they both start to move in and out of your spasming walls. More tears start to slide down your cheeks as your insides burn from the stretch, neither allowing you enough time to accommodate both of them. Suguru seems to get off to the tears that fall on his chin, his hand squeezing between your bodies to rub your clit while Satoru kisses the back of your neck.

With Suguru's skilled fingers stimulating your clit, the pain turns into pleasure, your hips moving back to meet theirs. Satoru moans in your ear, hips faltering as the knot in his stomach tighten with every thrust, feeling his dick slide along Suguru's, their heads bumping against one another in your warmth. 

"She feels so much higher," he whimpers in your ear, "I think about to cum."

Planting his feet on the ground, Suguru thrust up into you, his hold around you tightening. "Think you can let us come inside you this time, princess?" He tries, "I saw the dumb look you made earlier when Satoru came inside you. I know you want us to." He pushes your hair from your face, smiling as he watches you nod dumbly, your brain slipping in and out as you're pushed to the edge of your limit, your body buzzing from the sensation of his fingers and the two cocks inside you. Looking over your shoulder he gives Satoru a nod, "Cum inside her."

At just like that, they're both releasing inside you, their hips stopping as they paint the insides of your cunt white, some of it dribbling out, your own release following. You shake between them, your mind falling blank, your entire being burning. 

You don't know how much time has passed, but your brain is just catching up to you when the door is swung open pink head flashing in your vision. "What the fuck?" Sukuna roars, forcing your brain to finally catch up with your body.

You're still on the bed naked, laying beside Satoru, and Suguru's at your window, smoking again, sweats hanging from his hips.

"Hey, man, sorry we couldn't help ourselves to your toy."

© Copyright 2022. Dearestgojo. All rights reserved.

Taglist: @watyousayin @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @yeahno28 @enneadec @aotdump @depressio-milkshake @alstroemaerias @yuutakittie @mykyoon @glugsinia

˚ ༘✶try it out with me, will feel good. promise..|| Stoner!Rin Itoshi⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

content : established relationship, aged!up Rin Itoshi, drug usage, smoking, shotgunning, mention of happy trip, exhibitionism, switch!character & reader, kissing, making out, marking, nipple play, creampie,, groping, oral(m!receiving), fingering, public sex, premature ejaculation, dirty talk, not proofread & reposted

→thirst alike scenarios || wc: 1.3k

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ mdni!!

Rin Itoshi who just falls a little more for you when you confessed to him you smoke as well. It feels like your smoking sessions are some kind of bonding time and your relationship grows stronger over time because of your shared ,hobby‘.

Stoner!Rin who has now regularly smoking sessions with you. An unhealthy feeding into his growing weed addiction. But why would he care ? Smoking with you is something he clearly enjoys; enjoying the aftermath after a few joints even more.

Stoner!Rin who loves having you on his lap, lazily kissing you between every inhale of the smoke from the joint between his fingers. The hand on your ass slowly moving up to your jaw to pull you away from his lips so Rin can take another taste from the weed filled cigarette between his index and middle finger. A very deep breath taken with lots of smoke running down to fill his lungs.

The Itoshi doesn’t seem too affected by the burn in the back of his throat the hot smoke caused. He even feels slipping in a more relaxed mood with the familiar ache of his muscles.

Stoner!Rin who slowly leans his torso towards you, sitting comfortably in his lap, again. Grasping your jaw in his Hand to keep it open for his next movements — a deep kiss. Next to wet kissing noises and a low groan from your boyfriend, only the soft tap of his fingers against the cigarettes could be heated as he exhaled it’s rest into your mouth, filling your lungs with the relaxing smoke.

Stoner!Rin who usually starts with shotgunning. Regardless of him shotgunning you or you shotgunning him. He would be more than happy swap smoke between heated kisses while tasting the faint flavor of weed inside your mouth as he licks and swirls his tongue inside you.

Stoner!Rin who enjoys being high with you a little too much — especially when both of you get so handsy with each other that is has to end up in something more than just some grinding and little kisses. Sure it felt great to have your cunt grinding down on his dick, but it feels even better if he’s knuckles deep inside you. Or even better; his cock buried to the hilt inside your warm hole.

It just happens so fast. Stoner!Rin can’t help it but snake a hand up your shirt to grope your tits with his greedy hands. The drug makes him feel half the shame and twice the libido—and it helps him get over his usually dry personality a little; so he just touches you wherever he thinks pleases him.

Stoner!Rin who is sucked to your neck like a starfish after only a few takes of his joint. Babbling into your ear how bad he wants you and how much he’s like to bend you over and ruin your pussy without any shame. The uncomfortable tightness in his trousers is eased by the hand that palms himself through the fabric. At some point the younger Itoshi‘s boxers is sticky with pre cum his dick leaks at the tip, gooey mess clinging to his boxers and forming a wet patch on it so easily.

Stoner!Rin who has such a filthy mouth due the drugs‘ help too. „Fuck, you look so pretty bouncing on that cock,, yeahhh- just like that“, the man would pant out. Low groans, grunt and additional strangled moans when you squeeze him so tightly. „so fucking perfect for me, fitting so around me.. shit ‘think I’m gonna pass out..so tight f‘me“ Rin would even groan out. Arms moving on his own every time he himself guides you up and down his twitching and leaning length.

Stoner!Rin who smokes at night whenever he can’t sleep—in the majority of those nights you join him so he won’t be in his own for so long; but much to your knowledge, the itoshi can’t keep his hands to himself. Not when you sit all pretty snuggled up to his side in the big chair in the chilly night. And your cute top that barley hide your hardening nipples doesn’t help either. So Rin sprawling out his girlfriend on the balcony‘s table isn’t uncommon.

Boxers are lazily tugged down to his thighs to free his cock and as soon as the high Rin kissed your pussy, he rubs his dick through your folds—getting everything slick and wet to creat the messy noises that turn him on even more.

Stoner!Rin who muffles your moans with the half smoked joint of his he placed between your kiss swollen lips. Rutting his hips into yours while your naked body shivers from the cool air outside as it rocks up and down the table from his vigor thrusts. Teal eyes watching your tits bounce in awe right when he locks your knees over his elbows to angle deeper inside your drooling cunt that forms drooling rings around his cock. Shameless moans and chanters of „fuck yeah“ and greedy whimpers sounding from him—much to your dismay, you couldn’t make those sounds, mouth busy breathing in and out the smoke whenever he orders you to blow it in his mouth.

Stoner!Rin who already had a drooling problem before, but when he’s high, it only increases. Your lover slobbers all over your chest and watches your glistening tits jiggle whenever he moves. Tortured nipples who shine with his spit ache because of the lack of his mouth and fingers around them. And god beware if you scoop his drool up on your finger to swallow it. Rin Itoshi will harden even more inside you to the sight of it while his mind gets even more hazy with the drug and the lewd image in front of him.

Stoner!Rin who is high out of his mind when he fucks you in his drugged mind state. Eyes red and sight a little blurry as he fucks you into the surface below you. But he is not able to keep his pace at all. It ranged from deep and harsh thrusts to to gentle slow ones over to sloppy and fast fucks he gives you in a single round. Rin knows, and tries to at least circle your clit at a steady pace of your preference—trying to make you feel just as good as he does. Stoner!Rin who tends to come too early sometimes when he overdosed a little. Dumping the first big load inside you after only 5,6 thrusts before he fills you up with his heavy cum. Maybe you should take over sometimes. The burning bundle of weed long forgotten each time he submits to you so easily. Be it sucking his cum covered cock clean, smearing the substance all over him as you give him a handjob or you riding your lover into oblivion while toying with his nipples. Itoshi appreciates all of this. God, he thinks it’s so hot when you top him; especially if both of you are high.

Stoner!Rin who‘s not afraid to show you off on parties you two get invited on. At first your boyfriend would be his cold stoic self, but after some g‘s, he’s another person. Let’s his guard completely down and straight up pulls you into his lap; flush against his muscular chest. The green haired keeps glaring at everyone who dares to look at you. A hand of your lover moving dangerously close to your crotch as you feel the steam of his cig blown against your neck that’s covered in hickeys he put on you. Even rolling up his sleeve to expose his well former biceps decorated with scratch marks you caused. You‘re Rin‘s, and he’s willing to finger you under the table if those other men keep eyeing you, indirectly showing them how good only he can make you feel—high or not high.

Stoner!Rin who always wakes up next to you in your shared bed the morning after certain nightly activities. Mind of his still a little dizzy from the happy trip he had a few hours ago from all the weed he consumed with you. The scratch marks of your nails on his back, shoulders and arms burning a little. But who is Rin to complain ? He can still see your nipples being all puffy and swollen because he couldn’t stop pinching and sucking them last night. The hand print on your ass he spanked in the heat of the moment also very visible for him to see –but it sure was worth it. It is always worth it if it means spending time with his precious girl.

mdni, every character is 18+

© ringasm 2023, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

a bit dirty - ch3

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch3 | next (coming soon) [masterlist]

// probably a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6874 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, hotel, disgustingly sweet, needy as fuck, kissing during sex, fucking your boss, names names names pet names a million pet names, slight slowburn? like they fuck but-, afab she/her pronouns

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you’d think that seeing osamu nearly every single day after the night that you fucked him in your place of work, in his restaurant, would ruin something between the two of you. 

and sure, yes, there was always, and still is, ruminating under your skin, simmering in the depths of your stomach, resting at the forefront of your mind: the memory of that night, not even the act or the desperation, but the succeeding moment where he held you in his arms, kissed the back of your neck, the point in time before you told him it was a bad idea, the one where he didn’t regret a thing and neither did you.

even the morning after that night in onigiri miya, you two joke like it never happened. well, sorta like it never happened, because when you got there a bit early, osamu was already there. he was leaving the bathroom, wiping sweat off of his forehead, mop in hand, and both of you knew exactly what he was doing. neither of you said it, but the sheepish smile that you wore and the embarrassed adjustment of his cap as he put away the cleaning supplies spoke loud enough.

and that day you moved in sync, just like always. it was busy, really busy actually, but with the two of you working together, people were sat and fed and paid and gone all with a smile on their face. it’s wordless, the way that you compliment each other. you remember the things that he forgets and he knows exactly when you need a bit of extra support. 

there’s always been an inkling of synchrony ever since you started working there, but as you learned the ropes a bit more, as you memorized the menu and fully understood the ordering system, the two of you got even more dynamic. 

part of it, maybe most of it, was the fact that you genuinely cared about this place, about osamu’s well being and success and the way that his reputation was perceived. you wanted every customer that came in to leave happy, to tell their friends about the nice girl that worked at onigiri miya and the delicious food that they had.

you became indispensable, really. 

some days it was just the two of you. on busy saturday nights that used to easily need 3 or 4 workers plus osamu running around and taking orders and clearing dishes and packing to-gos in the tiny kitchen, your team of two got along just fine. help was nice and always welcomed, but when it came down to it, osamu knew he could count on you, on just you, no matter what. 

so when he asks you if you’ll work a catering gig with him a few hours out of town over the weekend, you probably shouldn’t be surprised, but you are, not because of anything work-related or because you feel like he should ask someone more capable, but because it’s only been a few short weeks since that night in onigiri miya and despite the fact that in your work environment nothing has changed, you still find yourself terrified that you’re going to revoke your treaty of no more. 

“me?” you ask, bag on your shoulder, no longer on the clock, and a few steps from the door. he’s caught you on your way out, a casual invitation in the empty restaurant that draws you back towards the bar where he’s standing. 

“c’mon, yea, of course, who else?” he says, furrowing his eyebrows. then he explains further, “travel and stay will be paid for obviously. we’ll drive up the day before, stay the night, work the event, and then drive back that night,” he explains, leaning on the counter top, one arm over the other. he points at you to make his final sell, “and it’s overtime pay because it’s a catering event.”

truthfully, you couldn’t care less about the money, aren’t thinking about it even after he’s mentioned it, you have much more on your mind like, why me why me why me why me?

“why me?” you ask, unsure why it’s made it past the barrier of your brain and lips. it was supposed to stay trapped in your mind. you’re grateful it’s only those two words and not the full string of when we’ve literally had sex two times and it’s hard enough for me to keep my hands and mind off of you when we’re in this fucking restaurant let alone a roadtrip to another city. 

he laughs, “if i bring anyone else, i’ll actually have to bring two or three instead of just you, and then everyone needs their own hotel room, and then i have to make sure i have enough room in my car.” he waves his hand at the thought of the hassle. “easier to bring the best person than a few good people, y’know?”

their own hotel room. and now you can’t get the idea out of your head, of osamu inviting you into his hotel room, of him slipping you an extra key and asking you to spend the night with him, how he wouldn’t even have to ask for you to go back on your word so quickly, how different it would be to have sex with him in an actual bed and not on top of a sink or up against a bathroom wall.

you know it shouldn’t, but it’s only making you lean in the direction of yes even more (as if you weren’t already going to say yes just because he asked). it probably won’t even happen, isn’t even a thought on his mind. he said it himself, it was just easier to bring you.

“plus,” he tacks on, “i’d enjoy your company maybe a bit more,” he adds, “might be a bit selfish.” his smile says it all, contagious and bright as he asks, “so, whaddya say?”

“of course,” you nod, no hesitancy. 

/\ /\ /\

in the aftermath of the busyness of your last shift before you leave for the catering event, you’re smoothing out all of the details that you might need to know for the weekend. 

what the event is, anyway: some corporate business meeting something or other, he doesn’t really remember the name, he just knows how much they’re paying and what they’re paying for

the plan on how osamu is picking you up: if you just give him your address, he can just pick you up so you don’t have to make your way to him or the restaurant

what time you’re leaving: at noon, the hotel that you’re staying in is also the place that the catering event takes place in. it’s about a 4 hour drive or so.

you’re making note of all of these things in your head, nodding along to the information that he’s giving you. “so, you’ll be able to sleep in?” you ask in response to the late start time.

he stops what he’s doing, rag left on the countertop as he laughs, throws his head back and shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed. if he weren’t as kind and considerate as you know he is, this could’ve come off very differently. “absolutely not,” he shakes his head, “i’ll be coming in to prep for the morning here, making sure that everything is in order for sumu to be in charge while i’m gone.” he says the last part with a shiver. 

“what? he doesn’t do a good job?” you ask, tilting your head, but you can’t hold the joke for that long, so you laugh right along with him. 

“thought you were serious for a second,” osamu says, still laughing, “shouldn’t be too bad this time ‘cause we’re not even gone for a full day, really. i’ll prep for him the morning of and close for him the night we’re back. won’t be that bad.”

“he doesn’t know how to close?” you ask, reaching out to grab the rag that osamu left on the counter while he laughed at the thought of sleeping in for once. you take over for him, wiping down the counters carefully, thoroughly. 

osamu recovers, smiles at this tiny gesture and then moves to restocking the fridge. “nuhhuh. don’t trust him with numbers and receipts, just have him throw everything in a paper bag for me to take care of when i’m back,” he calls from his crouched position on the floor. 

“y’know, i know it wouldn’t help you now, but you could probably teach me how to close if you wanted,” you offer, and he’s really grateful for the fact that you’re not able to see how much this affects him, “or open or both,” you plop the rag back into the clean water before finishing the few bar glasses in the adjacent sink, “that way you could sleep in once in awhile or not have to worry about closing all by yourself sometimes.”

he’s quiet for a second because he’s feeling a lot of feelings that have nothing to do with training you to open or to close and he’s trying his best to sort through them quickly to offer you a reply. to you, however, the silence feels like contemplation on how to tell you he doesn’t think that’d be a good idea, so you add quickly, “if- if you wanted? y’know, or if you don’t think i’m ready, i completely understand-”

“that would be really great, actually,” he cuts you off, soft and polite, “i really appreciate that.”

you’re warm now, trying to sort through a lot of feelings that are arising into your chest and your cheeks, so you just hum in response. the two of you finish your closing duties together and as you’re clocking out, you ask him one last question, “oh! last question,” you say, turning to him after you punch the buttons into the computer, “since we’re not at the restaurant, should i still wear my uniform?” 

“it’s a bit nicer of a catering event, actually,” he notes, “you could wear your uniform if you want but probably should wear something else, something a bit more professional, maybe? black pants, maybe a skir-”

“a dress?” you cut him off. 

if he says his words too fast, he’s worried that he’ll seem woefully unprofessional, but if he waits too long he’s worried that you might mistake hesitancy for reluctance. “yea,” he says, nodding, “that would be- that would be perfect,” he adds on, trying to be a bit more casual, a bit less flustered, “or whatever you wanted to wear.”

“great,” you say, nodding, “i still haven’t packed yet, so that is very helpful.” you wait a pause to see if he’ll continue the conversation, if he has anything else to say, because if he said a single other word, you’d sit right down and talk with him all night. you wait long enough and you’re somewhat grateful for his lack of response, because you need a good night’s sleep to be sharp enough for this weekend. “do you need anything else?” you ask, apron in your bag, bag on your shoulder, body towards the door.

he shakes his head, a smile on his face, “see ya tomorrow.”

“see ya tomorrow, samu,” you say, a small wave thrown as you leave the restaurant, unnecessarily giddy and very light.

/\ /\ /\

when he picks you up, you’re not prepared for how casual osamu looks, sunglasses and baggy black t-shirt as he walks around the front of his car to grab your bag. your tiny bag, your backpack. you were only going to be away for a night, you fit everything in a small black bag that you most definitely could carry, but he asks if he can put it in the back for you anyway. 

he opens the passenger door for you too, doesn’t linger around, just props it open for you to climb inside and you’re really not sure how you’re supposed to get through this car ride, let alone the better half of a weekend with just the two of you.

on the drive to the hotel, osamu teaches you all about how catering events differ from the regular restaurant. “they’re actually easier, honestly, ‘cause we’ve only gotta worry about the people in front of us, not seating or packing orders or answering the phone, just one at a time,” he says. 

on the drive to the hotel, osamu tells you all about his favorite songs, cycling through playlists and telling you why they mean so much to him. he learns about yours, not because you offer them blindly even, but because he asks, hands you his phone and tells you to play your favorite album cover to cover, we’ve got time. 

on the drive to the hotel, osamu explains the reason that he and his brother are so close, highlights moments from his childhood that he thinks contributed to who they are today, asks about your family and where you grew up, and is surprisingly good at driving while looking over at you with admiration in his eyes every other second.

on the drive to the hotel, osamu takes you to one of his favorite places to eat, hidden in a small town with a shitty parking lot, and he asks if he can order for you, recalls the time that you told him you were adventurous and not picky, but still asks you to trust him and you answer back a bit too quickly that you do. the food is simple but incredible and osamu listens to every word you have to say about it even though they maybe aren’t as concise as his and when the bill comes, he pays it in full, doesn’t listen to a single complaint that you have about splitting it or paying for your own.

on the drive to the hotel, osamu brakes a little bit too hard, reaches over and puts his hand on your thigh to warn you and your stomach has not stopped doing flips since. you have to fight yourself so hard to not put your own hand on top of it, to spread your legs a bit wider, to lean over and kiss him so hard that you cause an accident. 

on the drive to the hotel, you realize that there’s no way you make it through this weekend without doing something you should maybe regret, but don’t.

/\ /\ /\

but when you get to the hotel, osamu only asks for one key, no secret second one that he can slip you as a knowing gesture. your rooms are on opposite sides of the huge hotel, no running into each other late at night or being one wall away, and even though the two of you get dinner together after you’ve freshened up a bit, it wraps up pretty quickly.

as the two of you get up from the table, osamu reasons, “should probably call it an early night. we’re on at like 6 or something,” he says, “i’ll meet you at the bottom of the elevators at 5:55 to walk over there together?”

it’s the perfect opportunity for him to be bold or you to be outward, but you know that he’s just respecting exactly what you told him. he’s not going against your hesitant advice for last time to be the last time. he’s being perfectly attentive and a much better person than you probably would’ve been if the roles were reversed. 

“that sounds great,” you say, whining a soft question about why the conference has to start so early and he throws back a teasing quip of how you agreed to this and how business people need good breakfasts too. you walk back with him to the elevators, but you enter different ones.

and the two of you go up to your separate rooms alone.

/\ /\ /\

given that the night had to go as it did, vis-a-vi you not spending it with osamu, you’re grateful for how early you went to bed. waking up before sunrise is never fun, but you feel almost ready to accomplish a full day because you had a pretty good night’s sleep. 

you meet osamu at the bottom of the elevator promptly at 5:55am in the black dress that you mentioned in passing and your onigiri miya embroidered apron in your arms and you’re cursing yourself for not expecting this. 

all the signs were there, all of his mentions of a nicer event and nicer clothes and how of course it didn’t just apply to you. when you round the corner, you see him. hair combed neat, bangs pushed back, black collared long-sleeve button-up, and tan pleated dress pants, and you feel like you need a do-over of this morning, because how are you supposed to just not tell him how good he looks this morning and walk to work like the only thought in your head isn’t how badly you want him.

“morning,” you call out, soft so that you don’t startle osamu who is looking down at his phone, scrolling to pass the time. “have you been waiting long?” you ask.

“only a few minutes, my fault for wak-,” he starts, clicking his phone off and putting it in his pocket, and then he sees you… and then he takes a few moments to really see you, trying to cover up his wandering eyes with the rest of his stumbling sentence, “for- uh, for waking up on time, or- er- early.”

“how did you sleep?” you ask, breezing over his reaction, because if you focus on it too long you will sound the exact same way.

“good,” he nods, short response because he’s learned his lesson, “you?” he gestures towards the direction that you’re heading and starts to move, slow steps until you’re right next to him.

“not bad, pretty good,” you say, hesitating a bit because you know the connotation of your next words, but he’s looking at you patiently, genuinely listening and caring about how you slept last night and his collar is neat against his neck and if you don’t say something, he’ll never understand how sorry you are for wanting that last time to be the last time. “king bed was a bit big just for me,” you say as you approach the stand of tables and warmers and portable burners.

you step behind them, pausing to see how he’ll respond. you’re hoping for a sorry or a flirty is that so or we don’t have to check out until 3, but instead he just asks, “do you want me to do up your apron?” it’s the only time he’s asked this since your first week and you’re slightly confused until you nod yes slowly and he steps behind you, hands on your waist as he holds you still.

he pulls the apron out of your arms, smooths it over your stomach, tugs on the strings, sending you softly back into his chest. “sorry, doll,” he says against your ear, making no move to separate this contact. your eyes dart around the open hall that the stand is occupying. there isn’t a single other person here, but your heart is beating like you’re on full display. 

he runs his hands down your sides and your hips, holds the strings of your apron with one hand as the other ghosts over the tight fabric of your dress, palm kneading into your ass, sliding down the tops of the backs of your thighs. when he moves his hands, his hips replace them, pressed taut against you as he makes a pretty bow against your lower back. 

osamu pulls away from you slowly and when you turn around to face him, you can see his chest rising and falling slightly faster than before, a look on his face asking for confirmation. you put your hand on his chest, on the dull thumping beneath his sternum, “thank you, samu.”

“mornin’ rush starts at 7, so we should probably prep,” he mentions, bending over to pick up the rice cooker from under the table, conversation back to normal no matter how much you wish it wasn’t, “should be done after the lunch rush at 1:30,” he says, turning his attention to you, looking you straight in the eyes, “and i think check-out’s at 3.”

if you were trying to play coy right now, the whimper that leaves you ruins the entire facade, but you aren’t. you unabashedly need him right now, or at 1:30 whatever, and you want him to know that. “okay,” you nod, “1:30,” you repeat.

the second that you start working the morning shift, you’re moving nonstop, a constant line for most of the day. you have a few steady hours of non-stop work, and osamu is right, it is much easier. you only have to focus on one person at a time and you and osamu work just as well here under high, ballroom ceilings, serving onigiri to people in suits and blazers as you do in the small walls of onigiri miya.  

when you’re busy, it’s hard not to think only about the task at hand, at taking orders and making onigiri and politely conversing with customers. but when it slows down, when the tiny break right before 11 hits, when the late risers have finished their breakfast and the lunch cravings haven’t quite hit yet and not a single person shows up at the booth or even in the surrounding area, it’s much harder not letting your mind wander.

it’s only you and osamu, only the two of you, pressed up against each other, leaning on the back table, not saying anything, but a million things on your mind, not a single one not about him. you look over at the clock on the wall. it’s been 10 minutes since you’ve seen one other person.

“does it usually get this slow during catering events?” you ask.

“nah, but i think everyone is gone for meetings and whatever for another few hours,” he says, gesturing to the large floor sign with the schedule plastered on the front. “it’ll pick up once everything lets out at noon, but we’ve got like an hour until then.”

your eyes are up on the clock again, seconds tick, tick, ticking by, but not fast enough. 1:30 is too far away, isn’t close enough, not when there’s no one around and osamu’s side is pressed up against yours and his hand has just moved to rest against your other hip, arm across your lower back because he just wants to touch you. 

“i don’t think i can wait until 1:30,” he says, quietly and only to you, as if there were anyone else around to hear if he talked normally. you turn to him, chest against his side now and his hand moves to pull you closer, fingers spanning over your ass, gripping into the fat. 

you look up at him and you don’t even have to say it, don’t have to verbally reciprocate this impatience, he can see it on your face. you want to kiss him. he needs to kiss you. you can’t kiss here in the openness of the hall and it’s making everything have to happen much quicker. if you could kiss him now, feel his lips against yours and his hands against your body, you could’ve waited a few minutes to start undressing him, to walk back to your hotel room or find somewhere a bit more private, but without his lips on yours, you needed to get out of here right now. 

your eyes flicker to the sign, employee bathroom, and osamu follows your gaze, chest forward, immediately ready to follow you. he roots around the stand, finds a sign that says something about stepping away for a minute and puts it at the forefront of the booth and then you’re gone. he’s following you so closely, hand in your hand, rioting pulse against your own.

he barely has time to lock the door before you’re on him, pulling him, grabbing him, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt in a hurry to feel his skin in your hands, lips smashed against his as you do so and the second that they meet, all feels right in the world.

it feels like everything slows down and you let it. your heart beats a bit slower, more regular, you’re more careful with this buttons against his chest, your kiss is sweeter, softer. he’s holding your face in the palm of his hands, no tongue or teeth, just a deep kiss that has your stomach in knots, that could make you break down in tears, that could give you a toothache.

“m sorry i said,” you say against his lips and he moves to pull away but you push right back. you don’t care if he can barely hear you, you need to kiss him. you don’t want to stop kissing him. if you spent the entire hour in this bathroom just kissing him that might be satisfying enough. “sorry i said we shouldn't do this again, was really dumb,” you murmur.

he tries harder this time, pulls your face away from his, wipes the gathering tear in the outer corner of your eye, gives you a tiny peck, and then says, loud for you to hear it, “it’s alright, sweetheart, just glad to kiss ya again.” he has to wipe more tears now as they start falling down the side of your face, dripping off of your chin before he can catch them, and you don’t really know why you’re crying, you just don’t want to stop kissing him, don’t want to be without his touch or out of his grasp.

the second that his lips are back on yours, the tears cease, happy to feel him again and taste him again and you’re so slow to unbutton his shirt, but you don’t pull away until each one is open. you place both of your palms on his bare chest, slide them down the toned muscle and his abs, push your fingertips around his sides, and clasp them behind his lower back, pulling him with you until your lower back meets the counter.

he leans down, forehead against the top of your head, speaking into the tiny confines he’s created with the two of you pressed together and the boundaries of your chests. his breath is warm and his words shake you, “think i can properly taste ya now, pretty?” your knees are weak as you nod against him, whimpers plentiful as he helps you jump onto the counter and sinks onto his, perfectly level with your squeezed together thighs.

osamu places his large hands on top of your thighs, thumbs digging down against the insides to pry them open, dress riding up to your hips as he spreads your legs wide. you’re already drenched, soaking wet just from kissing him and listening to his voice and you aren’t the least bit embarrassed. he moves your panties to the side with one hand, pushes his other up your thigh, thumb following the inside until it brushes up against your cute little clit, flicking it with the pad gently. 

at the first touch, you recoil slightly, jumping at the sensation. osamu reaches up, places one hand on your hip, a tender reminder to stay put, and then he can’t help it. he leans forward quickly, tongue hanging out of his mouth, running the flat of it between your slick folds, curling his tongue to gather your juices, to taste them as they run down his throat.

the second that he tastes you, really tastes you, finally tastes you, he can’t control himself. he hooks both arms under your knees, pulling you closer, knocking you off balance slightly, back colliding with the mirror as he pulls your cunt into his mouth deeper. he’s using everything he can to taste you, to get you off, his teeth and tongue and nose and lips and you can feel every single little detail.

the noises coming from between your legs are so lewd, so vulgar, the wet slurping and heavy panting breaths every time he comes up for air. he squeezes your plush thighs against his cheeks, can’t get enough of your delicate skin and your sweet taste. he’s murmuring things into your soft pussy now and you can’t hear him, but you can feel the vibrations and if you weren’t so close to coming all over his tongue, you’d care more about messing up his hair as you thread your fingers into it, grabbing tightly onto his locks as you pull him in deeper. 

“samu,” you cry, tears starting again because the way that the tip of his tongue is prodding against your tight hole, circling around the rim, teeth scraping against your throbbing clit, mouth rubbing against your puffy lips, your core is on fire, so tight, and you’re coming all over his face, flooding and gushing, and the noises don’t stop, they get worse.

they get wetter and more intense and you’ve already come on his pretty face, but he looks up at you, mascara smudged against your cheekbones from crying two times already, and he decides that he needs to taste your come again. you’re so sensitive and he’s so good, it doesn’t take very long at all for you to be creaming all over his perfect tongue again.

“taste so fucking good, puppy,” he practically growls, low and breathless, standing up, chest sliding between your legs, “need-,” he breathes, “need to feel you all sloppy on my cock again, babygirl, yea?” you nod, reaching a hand up to rest on his chest and he leans forward for you to reach. your other hand stays gripped around the edge of the counter, bracing yourself for his thick, fat cock to split you open. 

you don’t need to watch him undo his dress pants or take himself out of his boxers. you keep your eyes on his, lift your chin up slightly because you can’t find the right words for if you don’t kiss me right now i’ll cry again. you don’t have to. he leans down, leaking cock pressed against the inside of your thigh as he presses his lips to yours, sweet and soft, back of his fingertips falling down the side of your jaw, palm resting on your collarbone as he pulls away. 

before he slips inside of you, he leans back, squeezes your legs together and rests them on one of his shoulders. he uses his hand to guide himself, rubs the underside of his head against your sloppy lips, grunting softly at how good you feel against his sensitive tip. this grunt only gets louder, deeper, more guttural as he sinks inside of you, thick cock pushing through your puffy lips and slick folds, and he turns his head, kissing the side of your calf.

he’s all the way inside of you, hips pressed against the backs of your thighs, kisses your leg again, shaky and ruined as he shudders, “fuck, bunny, missed ya, missed ya so much.” you don’t know what’s fluttering more, your tight, gummy walls around him or your flipping, empty stomach, and you don’t know how to communicate how much you missed him too. 

when you try, it comes out as, “deeper, samu, please.” it’s whiney and desperate and skips out of your tight throat, but he hears it. he understands what you mean more than you even do, spreading your legs again, letting them fall against the edge of the cold counter as he wraps his arms around your back, scooches you closer to him. your chest is pressed against his, forehead against his shoulder, his hand is on the back of your head, holding you close. he pulls you closer to him, deeper onto his cock, one hand on the small of your back, hips pressing forward to meet you. 

his hand migrates to the back of your neck, fingers twirling around locks of your hair as he stays buried deep inside of you, not moving, just feeling you surrounding him. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face deeper into the crook of yours, aching to have him impossibly closer. 

when he finally starts moving, his strokes are long and slow, pulling out so that his swollen head is the only thing inside of you and pushing back in until his hips are pressed flush against the insides of your thighs. “‘s that better, baby?” he asks into your soft skin.

“‘smuch better, thank you, samu,” you say in between soft moans and tiny sobs. “thank you,” you repeat, circling your hips, disrupting his steady rhythm because you just can’t sit still. he doesn’t mind, pulls away to watch you squirm as his cock disappears between your sticky folds.

“c’mere, doll,” he coaxes, helps you down and holds you close as he switches positions with you, his lower back on the edge of the counter, lifting one of your legs and resting your knee beside his hip and the top of the sink. “lemme fuck ya harder, okay, dove?” you whimper, nodding so hard that you make yourself dizzy, forehead falling against his shoulder again, kisses placed into his collarbones because you need your lips against some part of him. 

every time he pulls his hips back, slides his cock out of you to fuck into you again, gravity has you falling back onto his cock, harsh and sudden, filling you full every time his hips move away from you like you’re magnets. he wraps one arm around the small of your back, the other bracing the weight of the two of you with his fist gripped around the edge of the counter. 

he holds you against him and thrusting up into you is less like his cock driving up into you and more like moving you up. he can’t feel the drag of his cock parting your tight walls, but he can feel the pressure of your thighs weighing on his hips as he fucks upwards and he can hear the cute little noises you make as you fall back on his cock and he decides that he has to get you back into this position again, it’s like air to him.

“princess,” he whines, and you hum.

“babygirl,” he coos, and you hum louder this time in case he hasn’t heard you over the clapping of your sticky skin against his.

“my pretty angel,” he adores, and this time you pick your head up off of his shoulder, thread your fingers into his hair to force his attention, to show you that you’re listening really good, 

“samu, baby, what?” you ask, voice like flowing honey. you repeat yourself because it feels good leaving your lips and the smitten, blushy look that arises on osamu’s face needs to stick around a little longer, “samu, what can i do for you, baby?”

the answer is just this. he doesn’t say anything and he hopes that you understand, the only thing that he needs right now is you, is this, this slow, intimate moment where he’s looking at you and you’re looking back at him and he can hear every single time that your thighs slap against his and he can feel how warm you are and watch how pretty you are, and there’s only one thing that could make this better. you lean forward, press your lips onto his, exhale a breath against them. okay, there are two things that could make this moment better. “pretty girl, can you come for me?” he says, but that’s not quite right, so he corrects himself, “can i make you come?”

you swallow harshly before you nod, bracing yourself for the pick up in speed and force, and you’re glad that you do. when he starts to fuck into you harder, faster, not letting you fully fall back onto his cock before picking you up again. you almost fall to the floor. you’re balancing on one leg, but it’s nearly worthless, rendered jelly at this point, so you hang off of osamu’s neck. 

he doesn’t slow down with this extra weight, of your arms around his neck and of being completely responsible for you right now. really, the responsibility he’s feeling and the trust that you’re putting in him only makes him want you more. “come, puppy, lemme feel it, make a mess for me, yea?” 

the whimpers that tear from your throat fill his head so full that there isn’t much room for anything else up there, only the responsibility to hold you and the need to fuck you through it. you’re trying to get his name out of your mouth, but you can only give him broken syllables, though that’s enough for him. “s-a sa s- sam- amu-”

“i know, babygirl, i know,” he whispers, and he feels bad that he can’t give you another or wreck you even harder, god knows you’d come undone so much faster a fourth time, but he’s so close, so fucking close hearing you so ruined, feeling you dripping down his cock. 

“angel,” he says like a question, “don’t wanna make a mess on your nice black dress, doll. can i come on your pretty tongue, pumpkin?” he asks. 

“will you let me kiss you after?” you worry, the only thought that’s making you hesitate even the slightest amount. 

“oh, sweetheart, nothing could stop me,” he says, pressing a kiss into your temple before helping you to the floor. 

the tile is cold on your knees, but you only feel it for a second, the sensation lost to your brain as the only one that inhabits it now is osamu’s heavy cock on your tongue. his fingers are softly pinching your chin, thumb rubbing against your bottom lip as he pumps his fist around his cock once, a second time, and on the third stroke, his load is spilling onto your tongue. it doesn’t take him long at all, looking down at you looking up at him, heavy lashes and smeared mascara, kind eyes and swollen lips, pretty wet tongue and heaving chest.

he’s come between your thighs enough times for you to know how his release feels, slow and thick and plentiful, and on your tongue it’s no different, but you can taste it, bitter and salty but addicting, and it slides down your throat so nice that you barely have to swallow. you wrap your lips around his head, flick the tip of your tongue against his slit as one last rope coats the inside of your cheek. 

the second that he’s done, before he’s even caught his breath again, he helps you to your feet, picks you up, wraps your legs around his waist and kisses you as hard as he can. he can taste himself on your lips and it’s driving him fucking crazy because he knows you can taste yourself on his lips and he never wants either to fade. 

he can’t stop kissing you, can’t pull away from you, but neither of you can breathe. it was already hard enough recovering from something like that when you were able to catch your breath. when he finally does pull away, you can’t stop smiling. you place your palm on his cheek, gently, softly, run your thumb over his bottom lip because you know you can’t kiss him right now and this will just have to do for the moment. 

when your breathes return to normal, when the room isn’t filled with harsh claps and lewd noises and desperate moans, when even the sounds of tissues being discarded and clothes being smoothed fade, you can hear a voice outside.

“does anyone know where miya-san is? it’s nearly noon and he’s still not back.” 

the bliss dissipates quickly, bubbles of whatever feelings are floating around between the two of you are popped. the neediness has come down, your one-track minds now have more, and the moment you so badly wanted to capture in your heart forever now has a horribly tainted ending. 

there’s no mention of we shouldn't do this again as he leaves first, and maybe it's wordless, maybe it's gone unsaid, because it doesn’t need to be said. the ramifications of your actions are laid out in front of you. you have the entirety of the 5 minutes that you wait alone in the bathroom to count every single consequence of this stupid lust-driven endeavor. 

or maybe neither of you have the strength to try to stop yourself anymore. maybe it goes unsaid, because you both know that you shouldn't do it, but neither one of you is going to follow that. you already tried it once and you couldn’t even make it a few weeks, wouldn’t even have lasted this long if you were alone together like this sooner.

so why try?

you’re not exactly sure which one it is, which reason of unsaid caution you should follow the path of, but you do know that you’re going to spend every single day until then trying. you open the door to the bathroom. maybe one day you’ll figure it out.

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choso and his bimbo princess *･ﾟ:

choso with his bimbo girlfriend is so … it’s something. choso isn’t used to the pda or how bright she is, he’s not used to a bubbly personality who’s so dumb, but smart books wise. he tries to show her love but it’s always so awkward. like an awkward side hug that he quickly moves away from because his stomach started to flutter in the worst way. but one thing choso never missed was pleasing his little ditzy princess. he likes tie-ing her to the bed, her body stripped from any clothes big boobs out, the pretty tummy and fupa that he would kiss and lick leaving hickey’s on every part of her. her thick thighs would be spread a rose being rubbed up and down her pussy, choso watching how she clenched around the air and squirted all on his black sheets. or how he loved fucking her while standing. hands holding her things bouncing the chubby things on his cock like she weighed nothing, his cock would be hitting her cervix repeatedly making her scream out. “shut up mama, daddy’s not done. never. fucking. done” his dick would cum inside of her and then give the best after care afterwards, the awkwardness all gone. kissing her forehead and telling her how he loved her more than anything. then tomorrow would go back to awkward hugs but at least you know he loved you deeply

nagi seishiro - complicated *:･ﾟ✧

ft. nagi x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: car sex, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, small age gap?

synopsis: it was no secret that nagi seishiro liked you, but you’d rather run a million miles away than tell him that his feelings were requited

wc: 2.4k

A/N: hi i’m back with more nagi brainrot <3

you weren’t stupid. people have been telling you for years that nagi was into you. plus when you were in middle school you may or may not have found a word doc saved on his laptop outlining all the reasons he liked you and how he was too scared to confess. you simply closed out the tab and moved on though. to be honest, you were glad nagi wasn’t the type to confess first. pushing boundaries past friendship would be complicated. 

although if anything was complicated, it would be the knots forming in your gut as nagi pulled up his jersey to wipe off water from his lips after taking a swig. the flash of pale skin below his shirt that the movement exposed was not missed by your trailing eyes.

you’d be damned if anyone found out that athletes, specifically soccer players, sat at the top of your type. and how nice of nagi to become exactly that within the span of the 2 years you were away abroad. 

Seguir leyendo

Being Atsumu’s Pregnant Partner:

YN goes into Labor

Atsumu Miya x Pregnant! GN reader

Warnings: swearing, pregnancy and a lot of stuff to do with pregnancy, mentions of throwing up and bodily fluids

***pregnancy is different for everyone and I’m basing this off my own personal experience

AN: *sigh* friends I’m having major baby fever and since I’m forever done diy-ing my own, I shall instead write about it 😌 maybe I should just get a kitten

Looking back now, it probably wasn’t the best idea to go to a professional, five set volleyball match at 39 weeks pregnant but here you were. You’d always been the devoted type, doing anything and everything you could to support your man no matter what.

Atsumu Miya wasn’t always the easiest partner to have but you loved the big dummy. He was extremely dedicated to his sport and team, which made dealing with him outside the court rather bothersome at times.

Nevertheless, you decided that you could stand just enough of him to spend your life by his side and raise a family. His brother, Osamu, asked you about a million times is you were for sure ready to raise a baby Miya. He knew exactly what it would be like because he was one.

At first you laughed it off, thinking that you had a few years of rest before the chaos would ensure but man, were you wrong. You’d become pregnant relatively quickly, making both you and Atsumu extremely excited.

However, your excitement soon dampened as you began spending most of your day hugging the porcelain thrown or downing antacids to help with the wicked indigestion that crept up your throat at every turn. Your breasts ached, your sleep suffered and the smell of nearly anything sent you running to the bathroom. Your skin broke out, hair began to shed, and most days, you felt like a Sméagol from lord of the rings, just trying to protect your unborn baby.

Atsumu had been as supportive as you imagined he’d be. This mostly meant calling Osamu to make you something to eat or google home remedies to help with your morning sickness. Osamu was also extremely excited for his little niece or nephew to make their appearance, doing whatever he could when Atsumu was gone to help you.

You’d managed to make it all the way to 39 weeks, and you were excited to finally be done. The doctor had scheduled an induction for the following week because of blood pressure issues. You weren’t exactly stoked about the idea of an induction but the fact that you’d be able to meet your baby soon was thrilling.

You waddled your way through the crowd, waving to people as you passed. Akaashi had stopped to talk with you as well as Asahi and Suga. It was nice to see everyone again even though you were exhausted.

“There they are!” Osamu yelled, waving you over to his Onigiri stand as you huffed and puffed, finally able to stop. The pressure from the baby was making it difficult to walk, your pelvis hurting as you leaned on the corner of his stand, his chuckle causing you to glare at him.

“You know you could have stayed him YN. Sumu pays for the expensive sports channels because he’s obsessed with watching replays of his games, I’m sure you’d see him on there,” Osamu joked as you motioned for a delicious looking Onigiri in the corner of the display case.

“This will probably be the last game Sumu plays in for a bit because of his paternity leave. I don’t want to miss it!”

Osamu chuckled, shaking his head as you made your way to the stairs of the bleachers. Your phone rang as you began to ascend, huffing and puffing as you walked up.

“Hello,” you answered as the noise of the locker room filled your ears.

“Hey baby! Did ya make it?” Atsumu shouted back as you finally found your spot and took a seat releasing a heavy sigh as you settled in.

“Not up as high as I normally go but my feet hurt too much to even care.”

Sumu laughed as you looked around to see the stands filled with people.

“Well just relax baby, this time next week will be in the hospital having our baby!”

You groaned just thinking about the idea of pushing out this child, knowing that the possibility of having a small baby was out of the picture.

“Yeah yeah, just make sure you win today, ok? I don’t want yo moping around the house for the next week!”

Atsumu laughed loudly as you smiled. He agreed and hung up the phone, knowing you’d be there to support him no matter what happened.

The teams took their places, and the match began without a hitch. You knew it’d be a long one by the sheer energy happening around you. Two sets had already taken place and the teams were tied. You watched as Sumu slammed a service ace right into the opposing team's court. Your man was on fire today, probably excited about everything happening around him.

The pressure of the baby on your bladder, pushed as you tried to adjust, not wanting to walk out right in the middle of Sumu’s serves. Of course, you knew his serves could go on for a while, so you finally caved, as you thought about the nearest bathroom.

Standing up, you felt a twinge hit. Your back began to radiate pain as it moved to the front of your belly. You gritted your teeth, gripping the side of the chair as you grabbed your stomach.

“Are you ok?” Someone asked as you turned to them confused and nodded. There was no way this was anything more than Braxton hick's contractions, right?

The pain subsided as you assured the person you were ok and made your way to the bathroom. In the bathroom, you noticed you had started losing the mucus plug your doctor had talked about. You knew this meant nothing and weren’t concerned as you continued to feel the baby kick in your stomach.

Washing your hands, you felt the pain against radiate from your back to your front. You had no idea how far apart these pains were as you quickly grabbed your phone and waited for the pain to subside.

Hitting the timer, you exited the bathroom and made your way back to your seat. You felt another pain hit as you quickly checked the timer.

7 minutes.

Standing on the side, you waited for the pain to pass again before ascending the stairs. At this point, you were clearly in denial that anything was happening. Surely these were only practice contractions. Your body had done them before but then again, they’d never felt quite like this.

You restarted the time as you finally sat down, trying to remain calm as you focused back on the game. A few minutes passed again before the pain started, only this time, you felt a pop, followed by a trickle of water fill your pants. You began to stand up as the pain emanated through your stomach.

“Hey Yn- YN HOLY CRAP!” You heard someone yell as Osamu came running over you to, abandoning the Onigiri in his hands to grab onto your arm and steady you.

“Samu the baby, I think the babies coming!” You whined as Osamu’s eyes widened at you, the crowd cheering as MSBY scored yet another point.

At this point, you had tears in your eyes, the pressure from the baby pushing more fluid from your body as the pain continued to radiate. You leaned hard on Samu, groaning as you tried to make it through the pain.

Osamu looked around for anyone he knew, anyone who could possibly help him get you downstairs and to the hospital. As if on cue, he looked down to see Sakusa’s eyes locked with his. He knew his best bet at this point was to try and signal to Sumu that you were in labor.

“YN’s in labor!” He mouthed as Sakusa’s eyes widened and he turned to Sumu who was in the back row. Sakusa wasn’t sure what to do as Sumu was preparing to serve yet again. He wasn’t a person to normally shout but then again, it wasn’t everyday his teammates partner was in active labor at a game.

He looked over to the coach who was now concerned about what was going on with him and why he continued to trail his eyes into the crowd. At this point, Hinata had begun to notice as well, his eyes following Sakusa’s as he saw you, bent over and holding your stomach as Osamu supported you.

“Holy crap YN’s in labor!” He shouted just as Sumu threw the ball up the serve. His eyes widened as his palm made contact with the ball.

“WHAT!?!” He bellowed, sending the ball slamming hard into the other side of the court as the whistle blew signaling the end of the set.

Atsumu quickly looked up to see Osamu helping you down the stairs as you breathed, your face contorted in pain.

“Shit Yn!” He shouted, quickly taking off into the crowd to get to you. He ran as fast as he could, dodging people left and right until he finally met you at the base of the stands.

“YN’s definitely in labor Sumu, their water broke and everything. Contractions are 7 minutes apart right now, but they are in a ton of pain,” Osamu recited as you moaned through another painful contraction, Atsumu grabbing onto your belly and helping lift it to relieve some pressure.

He hadn’t been super eager to take the birthing class suggested by your doctor, but he had to admit, the techniques were coming in handy.

“Sumu the game!” You whined as the contraction ended. Sumu shook his head vigorously before he was interrupted.

“Don’t worry about the game Yn, we will put in our sub and thanks to Sumu’s service ace, we are ahead a set,” Coach answered, coming up with Meian and Sakusa

“Just worry about having that baby Yn!” Meian chuckled as you smiled.

“Please take YN to the hospital now, do you know how unsanitary birthing a baby here would be?” Sakusa demanded as Atsumu blindly nodded and took control of you, Osamu running ahead to grab his car to help.

At the hospital, the doctor checked you before the anesthesiologist made their way to you, providing you with a moment to breathe. Osamu was waiting outside, not wanting to miss the birth of his brothers baby.

“Don’t you wanna watch the game Sumu?” You asked as your partner came beside you and grabbed your hand.

“Nah, Hinata texted me and told me we won. I’ll just watch it when we get home from the hospital. Plus, I want our baby to see how awesome I look on TV!”

You giggled, laying your head back as you rested your body. Atsumu right by your side as you entered this new stage of life together.