sports anime trash

He’s a great student; top grades, always polite and courteous, a member of the basketball club, that too as the captain… he’s nothing short of excellent. And he’s been beating kids up during his basketball matches, with the help of his team.

It pains you to think of all the people he’s possibly put into the hospital, all the people who might be unable to play for the rest of their life. But despite everything in you screaming to report him to the concerned authorities, you remain quiet.

It’s not like you have any proof either. It happened only because you heard some people from another school talking about his team, and to make sure the gossip wasn’t real, you’d paid extra attention to their next game. The rumours had been true.

You start observing him carefully, your eyes seeking him out more frequently - when you’re teaching him in class, when you’re in the committee’s room, when you walk by the gym and peek in through the windows. It’s weird, you have no explanation for it so you hope every day that no one ever finds out or asks you about it. But you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

And the more you look at him, the more you think of nothing but him. Or maybe it’s the other way round? Either way, you’ve got a guilty secret of your own on your hands. You like watching Hanamiya Makoto even when he’s doing absolutely nothing.

He hasn’t caught on, still smiling his polite smile at you during committee meetings, still answering questions perfectly in class, and still not noticing you loitering outside the gym.

It’s one of those times when you’re outside the gym, absently looking through the window wondering where Hanamiya is, when someone croons, “What brings you here, sensei?”

You inhale sharply, freezing. You don’t want to turn around, you can’t, not when Hanamiya is standing right behind you, and has caught you in the process of trying to locate him inside the gym.

Internally yelling at yourself, you exhale, plastering a smile on your face and turning around, “Oh, Hanamiya-kun, I was just passing by and thought I’d check in.” Best to stick to the truth. You didn’t want to make up an outlandish lie and get caught.

“Would you like to come in?”

Did you hear him correctly? You stare at him blankly, mind trying to process his words and coming up with nothing in return. Is he inviting you in? If so, why? What does he get out of letting you watch him practice? Could it be a scheme to get you in a secluded place and then threaten you?

Or maybe you just have an overactive imagination, and Hanamiya suspects nothing and is just extending the invitation out of common courtesy. You’re a teacher after all, it’s not the first time someone’s tried to butter you up for some extra credits, even if you wouldn’t follow through. A voice at the back of your mind jeers, you’ve already favoured Hanamiya by not telling people about his tactics.

“It’s alright, I have some work to finish up so I’d better get going.” You refuse. You’ve decided that you’re not going to come here again. Today’s the first and the last time you plan to get caught.

“Is it committee work?” Hanamiya asks, and unbidden, you nod. “You don’t have to worry about that. I will do my best to assist you. Please come in, I’d love if you did. If you’re worried you’ll get hit by a ball, don’t be. My team doesn’t needlessly toss it about.”

The way he calls the team his, as if he owns it, doesn’t escape you. With no other option, you nod. It’s better if you see them playing from up close once, isn’t it?

He smiles, walking back up the steps leading to the gym, and holds the door open for you. You slip in, and he shuts it behind you. Now you’re in the lion’s den without any escape.

No, that’s not it, you scold yourself. You’re a teacher, you’re still much more powerful against some high school boys.

You sit down in a corner of the gym, trying to put on an air of almost disinterest, even though you’re incredibly curious.

They resume practicing, his teammates not even commenting on your presence as if it’s the most natural thing for you to be there, and for a moment you entertain the extremely embarrassing thought that maybe they all know you’ve been lurking. Please, no. Anything but that. You don’t know what you’d do if someone asked you about it.

Because without the thing about you being concerned about the things the basketball team is potentially doing, you’re doing the same thing girls in your grade used to do back when you were in school; stalking boys on athletic teams for less than pure reasons. If someone thought that you’re doing that now, it’d be so much worse. You’re a teacher. Despite how attractive your students can occasionally get, they’re not for you to feast your eyes on.

Soon, you go back on your words completely and are watching them openly, awed at the way the ball passes from one person to another and into the hoop. You’ve never been the best at sports, but people who are this talented are always admirable to you.

If only they didn’t use underhanded tactics, a voice says in your head, and your expression turns sour.

Maybe you’re wrong. You’re still trying to hold onto the idea that what happened during the game you watched was a one-time thing, and they’d played the rest of their matches with the utmost sportsmanship. You just feel bad, suspecting them of foul play when you don’t actually have much to go by other than one game and a remark from some unknown student of another school.

Hanamiya is a great guy, a good student and committee member who always helps you out and pays attention in your class. Considering he acts as the coach as well, you sincerely doubt that he’d be unaware of what the rest of the team does. If they were the ones engaging in foul play, you doubt he’d let it happen.

You’re obsessing over this when the air around you gets charged, and you lift your eyes just in time to watch as a ball almost hits your face. It whizzes past you and hits the wall hard, before bouncing off onto the ground and away. You say nothing, heart in your throat as you try to calm down, but you can’t, not when they’re all staring at you wordlessly.

Finally, Hanamiya makes his way over to you, and bends down, picking up the ball. Straightening, he looks down at you, and your eyes meet his, mind at war as you try to look away while also wishing you could stare at him forever. “You okay, sensei?”

You blink. “I- uh, yes, yes I am. It didn’t hit me.”

“Sorry about that, Hara was playing around and accidentally sent it your way.” You peek around him to watch as a purple haired boy holds up a hand, cheekily singing, ‘Sorry, sensei~’

He sounds anything but sorry. “Who even hits the ball that hard while playing around…” you mumble, biting your lip once you realise you’ve spoken out loud.

Hanamiya cracks a smile, and you uncomfortably avoid his eyes. “He’s a bit enthusiastic. Please don’t be upset, we’re very sorry. I understand if you’d like to leave now.”

“No, it’s okay,” the words spill out, “Accidents happen. It’s good that he’s enthusiastic. You need that in sports, right?” You laugh, overly cheerful because otherwise you’d just cry, and for a moment, your student’s eyes widen. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting you to want to stay. Well then, you’ll just prove him wrong. You pull your lips into a bright smile, and continue, “Please, I’m alright, so go back and play.”

Hanamiya nods, and the rest of the practice passes by in a blur. You’re playing attention now, and the way they play is almost hypnotising. Hanamiya and the other boy you teach - Seto, who sleeps through every class but miraculously answers correctly when he’s called up to the board to solve questions - render the others unable to score as they make some sort of elaborate formation that passes over your head. You’re so interested that it comes as a disappointment when they announce the end of practice.

You get up, trying not to lose balance as blood rushes through your legs again after sitting for so long. You’re reminded of all the work waiting for you, and you wince. Hanamiya had said he’d help you, but it was actually work for you, a student couldn’t do anything about it. You’d just spent the past hour and a half watching the basketball club play around like someone with no work pending.

Another late night, that’s all you could do about it now.

But as they all bow down and thank you, you can’t help but smile. It was certainly much more enjoyable than staring at documents, if you were being completely honest. You spent half the time wondering if the kids were as bad as people made them out to be, and the rest of it completely enthralled by them. Suffice it to say, you’d had a good afternoon.

You look at Hanamiya, head tilted to the side as you watch him give our orders to the juniors, and you allow yourself a second to admire his profile. He reminds you of one of your classmates from school, talented, good leadership skills and just overall admirable. And it’s painfully obvious that Hanamiya Makoto is handsome as well.

But that was that and this is this, and you’re not going to dwell upon it.

You don’t say anything to him, just slip out of the gym and walk off quietly. Once you’re far away, you turn back and stare at the gym. It’s getting late, the sky bathed yellow as the sun prepares to set, and below it the gym building looks majestic, standing tall.

You can hear the sounds of the boys cleaning up, and a smile spreads across your face.

Maybe you could come here again.

—

i quite like how this turned out tbh, id make it longer if i wasnt so impatient to post aND IF I DIDNT ALREADY MAKE YOU WAIT A YEAR

Your eyes watered, cheeks flaming red at his words. You wanted it, god. You want him to shove his dick all the way in you and shoot his come deep, right where it’d stay and take hold and make you carry his child.

“You’re so dirty- everything about you, every part of you is begging for me. Begging for my seed to knock you up. Do you want that, ___-chan?”

“Hhnnh, Nagisa- I- give me your come-” you said, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of arousal crashed over you and you felt yourself get even wetter. He knew how to talk dirty, damn.

“Be nice, tell me what you want properly.”

“Nagisa,” you pleaded, voice almost whiny as you tried to get out of your predicament. How were you supposed to ask him to fuck you full of his come without turning into a tomato?

“Nuh-uh, ___-chan, you have to do it. Tell me what you want me to do?”

Okay, you could do this. If you were willing to let him pump his come into you and try to hold it in yourself… then you could put it into words. The act itself was so dirty that saying it out loud should have been the least of your concerns. But somehow, it was the most pressing issue.

“Tell me, ___-chan, do you want me to spill myself into you? So deep that it doesn’t even leak out, just stays in you and makes you grow round with my child? Our children would look so cute, I bet.”

“Yes, yes yes Nagisa yes I need your come give me your come I need it in me so deep aah- I want to have your babies.”

“Fuck, ___-chan, so hot,” he groaned, before he gripped your thighs and pulled you closer, positioning himself at your entrance.

He dragged the head of his cock over your slit, letting your juices mix with his precome.

“R-ryouta- I-”

You shuddered as he finally moved inside the room, and shut the doot behind himself. “Wouldn’t want anyone else to find us like this, would we?”

Us? You didn’t have time to voice the question, before the mattress dented with his weight as he rested his knee on your bed.

He put all his weight as he moved further up the bed, and you watched, speechless, as he came to stop a foot away from you.

“Now, ___-cchi, are you going to continue? We could have some fun~.”

“‘Fun?’ Ryouta, what are you even talking about?”

He stopped in his advance, a foreign expression crossing his face as he moved back and surveyed you. Your traitorous body liked it, coating your fingers with more of your fluids.

“___-cchi, look at me.” Not like you were looking anywhere else. “I thought you wanted me.”

What?!

He nodded, which made you realise you’d blurted it out loud, and you flushed, awkwardly staring at a strand of hair by his temple as you desperately tried to avoid his eyes.

“I was under the impression you wanted me, just like how I wanted you, ___-cchi… I thought you did this on purpose, intending for me to find you like this. Did you not?”

You could have lied. You weren’t one to really own up to things like that. But something made you nod. Why shouldn’t you, anyway, when he’d confessed that it wasn’t a one-sided attraction?

“You, uh, you’re right. I want you, I mean- yeah. Yeah, I do want you.”

He sighed, relieved, before he dove in, taking you by surprise as he swept you into a kiss. It was everything you’d fantasized about, and more.

He pulled away, watching as you breathlessly tried to follow his lips, and he chuckled, “You’re so tempting like this. Can you show me more? We could do it together.”

Hell yes. You nodded, grinning wildly as your eyes sparkled excitedly at the aspect of watching your friend masturbate. He was gorgeous; you were allowed to be this eager.

“Let’s see how you get off to thoughts about me, Ryouta~.” You teased, winking, and his eyes widened minutely, before he winked back.

“Of course, ___-cchi, you too; show me how you’ve been fucking yourself with your fingers, pretending they were mine.”

As he pulled off his pants and underwear, you decided to resume what you were doing, and doubled your efforts. With Ryouta providing excellent visuals, you came in no time, crying out his name and spilling onto your hand and bedsheets.

Using the same hand, you reached forward and gripped his cock, and with a few strokes, slicked by your come and his own fluids, he was coming, mouth opening in a soundless gasp as he flooded your hand as well.

You stared at each other, not saying a word. Eventually, he leaned forward again, kissing your cheek, and you giggled.

His hand stops moving, and his fingers - still lodged inside you - barely brush against your inner walls. It’s quiet without the sounds that you’d got used to; the ones of him pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, the ones of your juices aiding him and dripping lewdly. The only sounds that remain are your those of your desperate, uneven breathing.

“Shintarou, please- don’t tease me now!” You plead, voice high-pitched, and he shudders, breath hitting your neck. You’re close; closer than you thought you’d be after just a few minutes of getting fingered in such a place, and you wish he wouldn’t tease you and just give you what you need.

His fingers twitch, and you gasp, because they’re still in you and his blunt nails push against you and it’s so hot, knowing the fingers he usually keeps neatly bandaged are buried within you and bringing you to an orgasm in an alleyway right next to a busy road.

“U-unh, Shintarou, y-your other…” you trail off, obviously embarrassed at what you’d begged for, and hoping that he didn’t understand. Surprisingly, he understands, and even more surprisingly, he complies.

His other hand snakes around you to reach your clit, and you cry out as he turns his attention to the stuff nub. He flicks at it with the tip of his finger, sending jolts up your spine.

Rubbing it with the pad of his finger, he relishes in the sounds spilling past your lips as you push against his hand. He nips at your neck threateningly, and you mewl as you try to calm yourself enough to stop humping his hand.

He pulls his fingers out of you, running them over your folds and coating them with your juices. Everytime he brushes his fingers against your clit, you rock up against him, even though you try not to. It’s hard to stay still when you feel like you’re literally on fire.

And then he’s manoeuvring you around, pulling you away from the wall and turning you around before he pushes you back against the wall. Your back comes in contact with it, and you look at him, confused.

He takes off his glasses, carefully sliding them into his pocket, and your eyes follow his movements as you try to make sense of what he’s doing.

Oh.

You stare at him, wide-eyed, as he drops to his knees. He pushes your thighs apart, and with his hands supporting your behind, pulls your hips forward.

He presses his mouth to your thigh, the silent promise of him taking care of your dripping core with his tongue, and you let out a whine as you realise the alleyway isn’t as inconspicuous as you thought.

Koushuu was not the kind of person who’d give his love to someone so easily, and you’d given up on ever getting through to him, long ago.

He was always busy with baseball; why would he have time to hold hands and kiss and look at the stars with you?

You’d decided to remain as friends, but at times like these - when he got miffed at you for appreciating other boys - it gave you a weak sort of hope. Hope that he wanted you just as much as you did him. It was a stupid thing, but it made you feel amazing.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who was drooling over his body, not me.”

“It’s not my fault that he was changing here!” You whined, mind conjuring up the picture of Miyuki Kazuya again; the rippling back muscles as he pulled a shirt on, his- his nipples before he’d turned away from you, just- everything.

It wasn’t a secret that the baseball team’s captain was a gorgeous hunk, and it wasn’t a secret that he was a huge tease. It probably wasn’t beyond him to take his clothes off in front of a girl on purpose. Especially one that his kouhai had brought over.

Koushuu huffed, before shifting closer to you on the bed.

“Why do you do this, ____?” He asked, and something about his tone made you look at him. “Why do you gush over every guy but me? And why does it have to be my senior who plays the same position as me?” Oh god, what…

“Why can’t it be me?”

It was as if someone had doused you with cold water, Koushuu’s eyes boring into you as he waited for your response, but you felt light headed. He knew? He knew, and he’d been waiting for you to accidentally spill. And when you hadn’t, he decided to wrest it out of you. How… how humiliating.

You tore your eyes away from his face, facing the wall as you refused to speak. The silence was too prominent, making you feel like it was going to shove itself down your throat and take permanent residence.

Koushuu decided to remedy that. “Why can’t you like me? I like you, why can’t you like me? Why do I have to listen to talk about pretty boys when I could listen to you tell me how much you love me? And everyone but myself is fine. Why?”

He- he liked you? What…? You stared blankly at the wall, trying to make sense of his upset rambling, and then you stopped short. He liked you. Okumura Koushuu, the boy you had a crush on, liked you back.

Your head turned to him involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as you saw how he looked at you - passionate and dejected all at once. It was all too easy for the words to spill out of your mouth without your permission.

“I- I love you. Fuck, Ko- Okumura-kun, I really like you. I thought you didn’t- I-”

His eyes widened, mouth opening and closing, then pushed you down on the bed, trapping you under his body as he rolled over on top of you.

“Say it again.”

Tell him how you felt? Again? The longer you looked at him, the redder your face got, remembering how you’d stuttered out your confession. You could say it again, and you could do a better job of it than you had before.

“I like you, Okumura-kun!” You said, head spinning and body heating up. He regarded you keenly, then shook his head and finally dived in for his prize.

A squeak left you the moment his lips touched yours, and he grasped that opportunity to shove his tongue inside. Running it over your teeth, he coaxed your mouth open, allowing his tongue entrance as it danced along the roof of it.

You trembled as his tongue flicked repeatedly against the sensitive skin on the inside of your cheek, and he swallowed up all your sounds hungrily, not letting even one escape as he ravaged your mouth.

He pulled away, and you gasped for breath, trying to steady yourself, but then he attacked again, this time pressing his lips - and teeth - to your collarbone. A whine tore out of your throat as he sucked marks along your skin, and your hand buried itself into his hair, twisting your fingers in as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Look at me.” The command was whispered against your skin, and your eyes snapped open, seeking his. He stared at you, satisfied at being obeyed, and you noticed how dilated his pupils were. Holy lord.

He fiddled with the buttons of your shirt, undoing them expertly with one hand as his other ran under your clothes. Pushing your unbuttoned shirt off your shoulders, he waited for you to arch up from the bed so he could completely pull it off of you.

“Good girl.” He said as you helped him take it off, and you flushed, eyes fluttering at the endearment.

He turned his eyes down, staring at your exposed skin, and you squirmed, accidentally brushing against-

Oh fuck.

He groaned, hips stuttering against yours and you moaned, feeling his hard-on through the layers. A wave of need washed over you, and you whined as his hips rolled down on you, and he ground his erection against your stomach. You needed him, god, and it looked like he wasn’t much better.

“K-ko- ah-”

Eyes snapping back up to meet yours, he pushed his hips down, grinding hard, “Say it.”

You stared back, eyes wide, blushing as you realised he’d figured you out; figured out that you had almost said his name for the second time that day, and it caused a wave of embarrassed arousal to wash over you.

“Koushuu. Please, I need you, I need more, please-”

He exhaled roughly, shuddering, “Yes, just like that.”

Pinning you down on the bed, he sat up, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion, and your eyes and mouth watered as you took in the sight.

The rigorous training had made him very appealing to look at, and your anatomy certainly agreed with that, you realised as you unthinkingly clenched your thigh muscles, rubbing them together.

He noticed that, of course he did, and smirked down at you. His hands travelled to the button of his pants, and you watched, almost in a daze, as he unbuttoned it and slid it down to his thighs.

The fabric of his underwear was distended, stretched taut over what was beneath, and you breathlessly noted that it was slightly wet.

Getting up on his knees and then off the bed, he shook off his clothes and left them as a heap on the floor.

Crawling back on top of you, he stared down at you, smirking again and giving you no time to react before he’d made quick work of your clothes as well. Soon, you were left in nothing, blushing madly as you tried not to let your eyes rove over him, his state identical to yours.

“Oh, you’re embarrassed? Cute~.” He said, and you exhaled unevenly, turning your head to stare off to the side, cheeks flaming.

“Have you thought about this before?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did Koushuu really just ask that? The scenes in your head were vivid as you recalled all the times you’d pleasured yourself to thoughts of him, and you felt yourself grow wetter; hotter. Of course you’d thought about it before; thought about him with his eyes, mouth on you, hands on you, fingers in you, reducing you to nothing but your need for him.

You’d thought about him breaking you apart, moulding you to allow only him in you; thought about him claiming you and making you completely his, owning you in every sense.

A hand came down on your thigh, smacking lightly, and you jolted, pulled out of your thoughts. Wide eyed, you nodded, relishing in how he sucked in a breath, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

“You know what’s going to be different from your fantasies?” You shook your head, and he continued, “I’m not going to be gentle. I’m not gonna go in nice and slow and get you used to me, and then rock into you slowly till you are satisfied.”

“Mnh, Koushuu-” his hand clamped over your mouth.

“I’m going to stretch you out on my cock, give you enough time to get used to the size, before I fuck the daylights out of you. You can ask me to be gentle or stop because you’re exhausted and can’t go on. I’ll fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you till you’re too weak to even scream my name with that raw throat of yours.”

He leaned down slightly, pressing his lips against the side of your face, “But you need to agree to let me do what to you. I’ll never do something you won’t like.”

You couldn’t help it, you moaned. Quite loudly, right into his ear. His lips quirked up into a small smile, and you trembled as he blew air out on your face. Even after promising to be so rough, he was still kind enough to ask if you were okay with what he offered, and it made your heart beat faster, your eyes water as you felt yourself falling even more in love with him.

There was only one answer.

“Koushuu, please, yes, do it.”

That was enough for him, sending him back into a frenzy as he slid down to mouth at your neck again, sucking gently but still with enough pressure to bring the blood to the surface- sure to bruise later.

One of his hands came up to your breast, fondling, before the fingers pinched over your nipple, and you arched up into his hand, letting a string of sounds tumbling out of your mouth as he teased your nipple. His other hand was busy trailing over your sides and around your waist, just feeling you.

He turned his attention to your other nipple, giving much of the same treatment to it, before his teeth came down on it, and you all but shrieked. His lips curved up fully into a grin, eyes glinting dangerously as he dared you to protest, and you cried as he increased the pressure of his teeth.

He rolled the tip around with his tongue before he pulled away, mouth moving off with a wet sound, and the air was deliciously cold against your heated up skin and the little amount of spit he’d left on you.

“Mm, look at that, they’re so red. Bet if I sucked hard enough they’d bruise and go purple, my marks all over you. I want to, I want to suck your skin hard enough and claim you for days, but not now. Right now I’ll just give you my cock, fuck you on it over and over till you can’t even think of anything but me.”

You whined high in your throat, trying to squeeze your thighs shut, but Koushuu inserted a knee in between, holding you open for him. “I want to see you pliant and spread before me, if you can’t even do that then I’ll just have to punish you.”

You gulped. The idea of getting punished was tempting, but the need to get fucked overruled whatever stupid thing you were about to do, and you nodded, breath hitching as he growled.

He parted your legs, gripping your thighs with his hands and supporting your legs over his shoulders.

He brushed the head of his cock against your wet hole, and you clenched, wishing he’d slip inside you and stretch you open.

And then- he thrust in. You screamed, your hands coming up to grip his back, and he shuddered.

“Dammit, ____, you’re so tight. So hot. Your insides are burning up just for me.”

“Koushuu,” you called out his name, the things he said making you burn hotter.

His head dragged against your walls deliciously, and his cock hit impossibly deep. Small gasps escaped you periodically as he moved, and soon, you were moaning quite loudly in the empty room.

The door opened, but neither of you heard. Not till Miyuki Kazuya was snickering.

Koushuu stopped thrusting, and you whined, then flushed impossibly red when the older catcher turned his eyes to you and winked.

Miyuki Kazuya fucking winked at you, while his junior was balls deep in you.

You hid your face against Koushuu’s neck, wishing the ground would just swallow you up, but then Miyuki-senpai did something even worse.

“About time, Okumura. It was getting a bit embarrassing to watch you pine after your pretty friend.”

And he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him, which you’d supposedly forgotten to do. Leaving you with the revelation that even Miyuki-senpai knew of Koushuu’s feelings. There was a very red blond catcher in the room with you.

“So-” you didn’t get the chance to finish, because Koushuu started thrusting again, this time faster. Perhaps his senpai had unearthed something within him; something jealous and primal that knew it had to claim you as his own.

You weren’t complaining, encouraging him with your appreciative moans and whimpers, asking him for more.

“Whose are you, ____?”

“Yours, Koushuu!”

“Who’s fucking you so good that you’re squealing?”

“Unh, you, Koushuu-!”

“And who makes you lose your mind like this? Who’s hitting all your good spots well enough that you’re close to coming all over his cock? You’re positively dripping, ____. Who is it?”

He pulled out all the way.

“Answer.” He slammed in, and then pulled out again. Your juices coated him completely, cock glistening as it left your hole, and you the sloshing sounds made you lose your mind just a little bit more.

“Me.”

He slammed in again, and this time, your vision whitened. Your mouth opened, and your throat worked as you let out a scream so loud and wrecked that you couldn’t even believe for some seconds that you were its source.

Of course you couldn’t, not when he made you come, and kept fucking you through it. You could feel your fluids leaving you, drenching Koushuu’s cock, but he didn’t care; he kept slamming in and out. His thrusts were getting more erratic, and at last, he slammed in all the way, grinding his head against your womb, and then he stilled. He shuddered, and you felt him spilling inside you, little shocks going through your nerves as he periodically spurted. You didn’t see, but you could feel it escaping you, dripping out from where you were joined, your thighs getting coated with a mixture of his and your release.

Hell, it might even have dripped onto the bed.

Eventually, when Koushuu had stopped panting so roughly into your ear, and you felt like you could breathe again, he pulled out.

You wanted to keep him in, really, but how were you supposed to confess to such a dirty desire? His cock left you, and so did your combined release.

You whined as you felt it leak out of you, your hole abused and lax. Koushuu pressed his fingers to it, and you jolted, too sensitive.

“It’s so gorgeous; red and dripping white.”

“K-Koushuu!” You gasped, trying to sound disapproving. “Don’t start now-”

“Why not? Didn’t I promise to fuck you over and over?”

“Yes, but not now… I can’t even feel myself.”

“Heh.” He smirked, then rolled over. “I guess I can spare you for half an hour.”

He eyed the bedsheet that was stained with the evidence of your act, and he cleared his throat, “Or ten minutes.”

“Wha- Koushuu, I honestly can’t move! If you do it any more I’ll probably be stuck here for a week!” Your sentence ended with a whine, and you pouted at him, hoping he’d be convinced.

“Mh… I’d love to have you in my bed for a week, but I don’t want that stupid Miyuki to know you’re here.” He huffed, “I’ll let you go this time.”

You bit your lip to stifle your smile, and then moved to make space for him on the bed. Tried to, anyway. You groaned as your entire body protested, and you flopped on the bed, wincing only a bit when you fell on the wet spot on the bed.

Koushuu leaned in, and after a bit of blushing that he’d probably deny forever, kissed your forehead gently.

Patting your cheek, he got off the bed. You reached out with the little strength that was left in your hands, and he shushed you, squeezing your outstretched hand with his.

Your eyes followed him as he moved about the room, and you watched as he filled up a glass of water, and and drenched a rag he’d picked up.

He came back to you, setting the glass on his bedside table. He leaned with his knee on the bed, hovering over you, and you felt something against your face. Ah, the rag, you thought absent-mindedly. He wiped off the spit and sweat and tears off, making you sigh as you felt a little clean.

When he was satisfied with his work, he leaned back, tossing the rag next to the glass. He eyed said glass, eyebrows creased, before he picked it up and sipped a bit.

Resuming his previous position, he hovered over you, before he was inches away from your face. He gestured to your mouth after much difficulty, and you opened it, confused.

Things were clear when he kissed you, and you realised as the liquid trickled into your throat that he’d been trying to get you to drink. You blushed, lips threatening to quirk up into a smile, but you stayed still. Koushuu being this loving was rare and so appreciated, you didn’t want to embarrass him.

Unbeknownst to you, he could feel your amusement, but he powered on. He’d drink from the glass, then deliver the water to you, and soon enough the glass was empty.

He leaned back and sat at the edge of the bed, and you both stared at each other. It was quiet for a few moments.

“Cuddle.” You requested, pouting.

“After I change the bedsheet.”

NSFW:

Ryou is evil and loves talking about all the things you people get up to. Kuramochi’s the one with the dirty talk, but Ryou just… talks. He’ll talk nonchalantly about how he plans to fuck your mouth till your jaw aches, or how good you or Kuramochi look, when either of you is spread open on his lap and taking his fingers.

Mochi: oral fixation. He loves pleasuring his partners with his mouth. He could spend ages sucking someone’s cock or eating them out. Ryousuke is very much dominant, and he prefers to have you both gasping and pleading, but he allows Kuramochi to eat his ass at times, and boy is it satisfactory. More than that.

Neither of them are much for fucking with their dicks in you/each other. Of course, if a partner wants it, they will do it, but Ryousuke prefers using his hands - sliding his fingers in and out of his lovers’ hole, flicking his wrist and applying pressure and reducing them to a keening mess with just his fingers, or fisting his own dick, getting himself off with just his hand before he comes. Kuramochi, on the other hand, loves to work with his mouth. There’s something incredibly arousing about bringing a person to completion by sucking, licking, biting, and Kuramochi plans to do just that.

Kuramochi loves giving you both hickeys. Ryousuke isn’t much for marking y'all that way. He prefers coming all over his partners. That’s just as good of a claim, isn’t it?

One of his favourite things is watching you and Kuramochi fuck together. It satisfies him to see both his lovers satisfied. This also backfires at times when he feels unneeded, and that’s when you both have to show him that he is; that you wouldn’t be the way you were if not for him. He needs reassurance, and not just in the nsfw way.

I’m kind of shit at inclusion but I want to clarify that yE I’ve tried my best to do Ryou/Mochi/Reader instead of Ryou/Reader and Mochi/Reader and I’m so sorry if it came off looking like the latter. I’m just terrible at writing polyamorous stuff djskakdkf I’m so sorry.

“No?” You asked incredulously.

“No.” He repeated. “I won’t fuck you.”

Frustrated, you huffed, because why was he backing out now? And for what reason?

“You do it.”

You looked back at him, a pouty expression etched on your face.

“I want you to do the work, Y/N. Fuck yourself on my cock, and ride me. You always make me do all the work, now it’s your turn. Show me how much you want me; how much you want me wrecking that pussy.”

You moaned, his words sending sparks down your spine and making you feel hotter. He was so good at this - turning you into a trembling mess on his lap.

Well, he wasn’t the only one good at getting what he wanted. All you had to do was give him a good show, right? You could totally do that.

Breathing in and out to steady yourself, you looked down in concentration. The head of his cock was flushed red and shining, from both your and his fluids, and it made your mouth water, wishing you could suck on him while he fucked your throat. All in due time, you assured yourself.

You lifted off a bit, positioning his dick against your hole, and you watched as more of your juices dripped out of you and onto him, slicking him further up.

He was big, bigger than most people (well, you assumed, since you weren’t as familiar with dicks as you probably should be), but you were ready enough to take him without resistance.

You let him glide between your folds, shaking with how good it felt, before you sank down on him. It went in relatively easily, aided by your arousal, but you still sucked in a breath, because he was big, and it felt like he could wreck you if you weren’t careful.

(It made you want to not be careful at all.)

Finally, he was fully sheathed in you, and your bottom was touching his thighs. Your mouth opened in a shuddering whine, legs splayed on either side of him and pussy clenching around his dick.

“Y/N, so good, aahn, it’s all in, you did so well. Now fuck yourself nice and slow, sweetie. Show me how much you want my cock.”

You nodded, biting your lip, and then you started fucking yourself on him earnestly. You set up a rhythm, lifting off and slamming down periodically, head spinning everytime his dick dragged deliciously against your walls.

After a few minutes of doing this, your rhythm started going off, Asahi’s grip on your hips getting tighter, and all of a sudden, he was thrusting hard against you, grip absolutely bruising, and the head of his dick pressed insistently against the special spot that had you seeing stars.

Your vision blacked out, mouth open in a silent scream as you choked, and you came. You came hard enough to drench Asahi’s lap, and your walls spasmed around his cock, driving him to the edge as well.

“Y/N, oh- oh god, I’m going to come you need to get off of m-”

You moved forward, pressing your lips to his urgently, and clenched around his dick, trying to communicate your need without words. You wanted him to come in you, stain your insides with his claim and watch it drip out, oh, you were so depraved for his cock and you were not ashamed of it.

He pulled apart, trying to confirm with words, and you breathed against his lips, “Asahi, please, need it. Need you stuffing me with your come, aaaah, please, give me your come.”

He groaned, the sound pained, and then he was releasing into you, streaks of come coating your insides and making you shudder from the aftershocks. Eventually, he settled back against the wall supporting him, with you safely in his arms.

You breathed erratically, trying to calm down as you weakly gripped his arm, and then he pulled out of your wet heat. You blushed as it flooded out of you, hole clenching as it tried to keep it in, and Asahi watched entranced as it dripped out of your abused hole.

He touched the tips of his fingers to it, making you mewl. Collecting some of his come, he pushed it back in, and you whined, loving how much attention he was paying to you. You bucked against his fingers slightly, trying to get it inside again, and he chuckled.

Pulling his hand away, he regarded you with a dopey smile, and you flushed for an entirely different reason.

“Was it good?” He asked, a hint of anxiety creeping back into his voice, and you smiled.

“The best.”

It was official. You were stupid. And also nervous, but it was your fault.

Who would have thought you’d be spending your evening tied down on a platform in a sex club, eyes covered by a blindfold. Certainly, no one envisioned that. But somehow, you’d let your friends convince you to do it, after that embarrassing confession that had spilled from your lips. Your very drunk and uninhibited lips.

“I would let someone tie me up if they wanted, and fuck me till I see stars.” You’d probably said something along those lines - and that was okay. That was the normal (relatively) part. What was not normal, was…

“I wish I could see only the stars?” followed by unsteady giggling, and then- “I wonder what it feels like to be blindfolded. Does it really heighten your nerves? Do you feel more? God, I want to knowww.”

Stupid, stupid ___. Who said it was okay to talk about things like that to your friends? They’d laughed and teased you the next day - because the only sober one had recorded your confession, and they had proof - and you’d just whined, told them to shut up unless they could offer.

They could. One of them decided to point you to a sex club.

You weren’t a stranger to the concept of it. But… knowing something theoretically was so different from actually experiencing it. Sure, the rules assured that the person servicing you would only do what you wanted, and wouldn’t go past your limits. But it still scared you, restrained against the raised platform for everyone to see, while you could see nothing. The cloth was tied securely around your eyes, not too tight that it hurt you, but snug enough that you couldn’t see anything.

You didn’t even know how your… handler?… looked like, and it sent a nervous sort of excitement shooting through you. The lack of a word for the person also amused you a bit, settling down your nerves somewhat, though the simmering heat in your belly refused to cooperate.

Someone cleared their throat, and you stilled, suddenly realising that you’d been squirming for quite some time. In front of everyone? Gosh. A few seconds passed, and your toes wiggled again. It was there - a heavy, dominating presence. It made you want to shudder and hide, twist away from the eyes that were surely devouring you - decked out in a tiny pair of shorts, and a revealing shirt that you’d allowed a friend to force you into. It made you feel way more exposed than you were, cheeks burning as you wondered what the stranger thought.

Was he impressed? Amused? Annoyed? Damn, you probably weren’t even supposed to care about that. You were paying for pleasure, it didn’t matter if he found you hot or-

You gasped, leg spasming. A warm hand, thumb stroking slightly above your knee - gentle yet firm, it made you tremble. It moved an inch, and you ordered yourself to stop acting so shy. You were literally going to get naked in front of the guy; why were you getting so jumpy now of all times.

“Can I undress you?”

There. He’d asked, and it was up to you if you wanted to allow him that.

“I, uh, if you want?”

An amused hum, a bit pleased; it made you flush. Why couldn’t you do this properly? He didn’t leave you time to think, because his hands were reaching for the button of your shorts.

He undid the button, deft fingers brushing against your lower stomach, and it made you gasp, hips arching up off the platform. He hummed again, a low, approving sound this time, and slid your shorts off your legs.

You heard the sound of something being placed down gently, and your eyes suddenly widened behind the blindfold. He was going to take off your panties! You were going to be bared to someone you didn’t even know, in a few minutes! And there were other people around. Granted, they were also ‘busy,’ but some people were probably observing you both. It wasn’t a private room, after all. You’d decided against it because you felt it would be safer this way; people’s presence would deter your partner from doing anything creepy, but now you just felt embarrassed.

His had settled again on your leg, and he pushed it down, flat against the platform. “You’re squirming too much. Should I tie you down some more?”

You shook your head, words not leaving you, and you heard him come closer. “Can I continue?”

Could he? Was he seriously giving you an out?

“Um, are you- are you planning to take my p-panties off too?”

“Do you not want that?”

“It’s embarrassing.” You breathed out, the tips of your ears red. Why were you confessing that, now of all times?

He chuckled. It was abrupt, and it stopped just as soon as It started, and you got the impression that he hadn’t really meant to laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m not making fun of you. But, you did come here for this, didn’t you?” You didn’t answer, the reason why you came here too stupid, and he pressed harder, “Why did you come here?”

“Because,” your word ended on a sigh, his fingers moving around to settle against your arm, “because m-” because my friends sent me here. Could you really say that? Was it even their fault? Should you really be blaming them for something that you lowkey really wanted?

“Because?” He breathed the word against the delicate skin of your neck, and you shuddered, a moan threatening to spill out of your throat. You felt something wet against your skin, and you realised that he was licking you - it was his tongue against your collarbone and it startled you enough to let out a squeal.

“B-because I li- wanted to be, to be tied up.” your voice had dropped down, the last words just a hushed whisper, and you didn’t see him smirk; didn’t see him run his gaze over you, over the strips of silk binding your wrists to the platform.

“Are you having fun being tied up?” What kind of a question was that? You didn’t answer, and that gave him reason to continue, “You’ll have even more fun if you let me strip you.”

Oh god.

He ran a hand up your leg, stopping at your thigh, and you shivered nervously. His hand lifted, and the next moment, his fingers toyed with the waistband of your underwear, lightly pulling it away then letting it snap back - a gesture that made your breath hitch. Deciding that he was getting fed up with your indeciveness, he asked one last time, “Can I take this off?”

Another pull - snap - shudder. The answer was obvious. You didn’t know anyone here, it’s not as if they knew you either. You could just indulge for one night, and then drown in your shame and never come back again. “Okay.”

That was enough, and the next moment you were squealing with how suddenly he’d pulled your panties off of you.

You squirmed, legs close together in an attempt to hide, but how useful was it, really, when he was inches away from your pussy and probably saw more than you thought he did. He wasn’t the one with a cloth over his eyes.

He chuckled again, the sound deliberate this time, almost as if to tease you further. It felt tangible, caressing your body and skipping through your veins. Or something. You couldn’t be expected to think when you were exposed to someone who probably enjoyed your squirming way too much.

“See, it wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Well…” you drawled, an almost maniacal sort of glee bubbling up as you thought of how he’d react to your next words, “I can’t really see, can I?”

You’d expected him to laugh, an amused huff if not his regular chuckling, but what you got made you cry out. A punishing nip to the hollow of your neck. He teased the skin with his teeth, soothing it over with his tongue, and you trembled.

His hand ran down your leg again, moulding against the muscles, and an almost imperceptible shiver wracked through you. “I don’t tolerate bratty partners.”

“Wh- I- excuse me?! I was just trying to be funny, you didn’t have to-” you broke off, eyebrows creasing as he snorted, and suddenly he realised he didn’t mind your joke. He bit you because he wanted to. Not as part of this useless banter… But as a precursor to what you’d come here for.

“What’s your name?”

The question took you by surprise, but you stuttered out the answer nonetheless, not wanting to take another ‘punishment.’

“And, uh, yours? What… What do I call you?” He didn’t answer your question, choosing to hum instead.

“Tell me, ___, how good are you at following orders?”

Orders? Oh. So he was going to start whatever he planned.

“Well, never mind. It doesn’t matter if you are or aren’t; you’ll have to follow my orders either way.” He’d moved away a bit, his voice farther than before, but louder, and it made you twitch, knowing people could hear his words. “I’m going to lick you, nice and slow, get you dripping. And then, I’ll give you something good, pretty girl. You’re allowed to make as much sound as you want, and you can also move around to make yourself comfortable. Theres just one thing you need to keep in mind: you can’t come till I tell you to.”

Your breath rushed out audibly, cheeks impossibly red as you replayed his words over and over in your head. What was he going to do? Put his cock in? Was that even allowed - unless the customer requested it? And who would be arrogant enough to refer to their dick as 'something good?’ Well…. maybe the person handling you was.

He parted your legs with his hand suddenly, and a cold rush of air hit you, making your muscles tighten up. He soothed them, patting your thighs gently, waiting for you to get comfortable - as much as you could, anyway.

For the next minute or two, you could only feel his fingers rubbing at your inner thighs, teasing the flesh as he blew on it and left a trail of fire, with his feather-light touch. When he finally put his mouth on you, it left you reeling, an appreciative cry escaping your lips as your hips jerked, moving off the platform.

He didn’t let up, continuing to suckle lightly at your clit, and then flicking his tongue out to collect the juices that were freely forming under his ministrations.

You were left unable to do anything as he expertly robbed you of all your faculties, and you could only pray that he wouldn’t leave you like this; that you’d get your release, because this was torture.

He eventually moved his mouth off of you, after much licking, and jolting on your part.

“Good girl.” You moaned at the praise, too desperate to really care what he thought of it. He chuckled, the sound different from the ones before. It was dark, promising, hinting at what was coming, and you couldn’t breathe, not when you were like this.

Everything around you was heightened; the sounds of the people around you, the presence of your handler, and the knowledge that you were so impossibly turned on by just getting your pussy licked by a stranger in a sex club.

You could feel him move away, and you held your breath, anticipation high. What was the good thing that you were getting? At this point, you were even ready for his dick. You just needed something inside you that would give you relief from this insane craving.

You heard a sound, something you heard of, but never with your own ears, and it made your mouth open in an awkward sort of shock, as embarrassment and excitement warred within you.

He brushed it between your legs, and you arched off the platform. Dragging it through your juices, he pressed it against your hole, and you whined, legs involuntarily spreading further to bare yourself to him. He hummed appreciatively, enjoying your display, and lightly slipped a finger into your hole, pistoning in and out. Deeming you ready, he slid in the thing he was holding.  

And switched it on.

He was teasing you with a vibrator, oh lord.

You squealed as the toy buzzed inside you, applying pressure in the best ways and leaving you spasming. Gasps and moans were punched out of your throat, sounding choked and so, so desperate that you couldn’t even believe it was your own voice.

“You like this, don’t you? You’re feeling it so much, dripping all over. You’ve never felt this good before, have you? The way you are trembling and crying for it, I don’t think so.” He said, and his words only served to make the flame burn hotter, making you keen wantonly.

“Ah, but you can’t come. Not till I say so. You can gasp and moan and twist around, but I’m going to keep fucking you with this. I’ll fuck your little pussy till you can’t think of anything but getting to come. I’ll wreck you so good, ___.”

If you’d been able to think, you’d have asked someone to give the guy an award for his dirty talking, but as it was, you were close to losing all inhibitions and just screaming for release.

“Please, please, just let me come I need to come-”

“No.” He growled, before switching the setting higher; a small scream tearing out of your throat. The vibrator ground against your insides mercilessly, stimulating you and pushing you to the edge, but never over it. Each time you were on the brink, your handler reduced the vibrations. He was enjoying this as much as you hated it, but of course, weren’t you loving it too?

You could feel your juices all over your thighs; each time your hips came down against the platform, the sticky fluid got on your skin even more. It made you feel so dirty, so wet and wanting, crying out because of a toy - not even a real cock.

Your clit was throbbing, your insides clamping down on the vibrator as you tried to get more friction, shifting your hips and trying to angle it in deeper, but he just laughed, an amused and patronising sound that left you feeling like you were especially dirty. And you were, god, you were so dirty, rocking up your hips to press the toy into the spot that would make you see stars.

A hand came down on your thigh all of a sudden, pinning you down against the platform, and you whined, trying to get away, but he was too strong.

Gripping the base of the vibrator, he twisted it, pressing it in even harder and you choked on your scream, unable to let out even a single intelligible word.

“Heh, you’re so hungry for it. Your hole is swallowing it in. Bet if I put my cock up there it would take it in just as eagerly. How cute~”

“Y-you- aaahn, what’s your name?” you could barely speak, but you needed to know.

“Why should I-”

“Please.” You cut him off, rolling your hips down against his hand. “Please tell me.” You turned your head to where you assumed he was. Your blindfold was soaked with your tears, and the fabric was surprisingly flimsy enough to let you make out a faint outline of him. “I want to know.” You whined, hoping he’d cave in.

He pondered over it, all the while thrusting the toy in and out of your hole. “Akashi.”

You didn’t hear it at first, too focussed on fucking yourself on the toy, but then he repeated it in a harder tone, and you realised.

“Akashi.” You moaned. He cursed; you’d said it out loud without thinking. His hand sped up, setting up an almost brutal pace now, the way he hit your spot every time making you almost come.

“A-akashi, can I come, please, let me come I need it I need to come so bad-” you whined high in your throat, trembling all over.

And then he said it.

“Come.”

Your back arched up off the platform, mouth open in a silent scream as your toes curled, and then you felt nothing.

When you came to, your hands were untied, and your blindfold had been removed. You squinted at your surroundings, not used to the sudden light, and a hand patted your hair. You looked up, and god, he was gorgeous.

“Uh.” You spoke, very intelligently. This couldn’t have been the guy who did all that to you. You refused to believe such an attractive specimen had reduced you to that- that lewd state where all you wanted was an orgasm. Because of a toy. Oh god. Heat flooded your cheeks, and you squeaked out a word, nervously hoping that you weren’t right. “Akashi?”