after hours

It isn’t all for nothing though; even you can admit how sexy it was to see him undone, fucking his fist to you touching yourself. You can use this as masturbation material until the sparkle wears off, which will probably be sooner rather than later at this rate. 

On the way to the office, you manage to pick up a pastry to munch on in lieu of your stolen breakfast. You arrive to work late by half an hour, all thanks to Toji’s typical antics, though the day goes by as it does normally, with only brief glimpses of last night replaying in your memory.  Despite all that is wrong with Toji, one thing is for certain: he’s really fucking hot. A marble statue chiseled to the finest detail, beefy muscles and abs so defined, even prettier with his pearly white cum splattered across them. It’s a hard image to get out of your head, especially when it’s your deepest darkest fantasies come true. Still, there’s no way you’re letting yourself get caught up in this again. Absolutely no way.

You eat lunch with your coworker, who brings up something you forgot in the midst of all the madness happening at home. “You’re still free tomorrow night to see Ryuji play, right?”

Confused, you quickly swallow the food in your mouth to respond. “Wait, what?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Don’t tell me you forgot! Ryuji! He’s my boyfriend’s brother’s friend who’s in a band. Remember you wanted me to set you up with him?”

It’s coming back to you now, and of course you remember her telling you about Ryuji. Shaved head, tattooed bassist, tall, lanky, and lean. Totally your type. You nod, smiling at her. “Yes, yes, I remember. Sorry, I’ve been out of it lately.”

“Is your roommate giving you trouble again?” she asks, gazing at you with concern.

You almost choke on your spit, stifling it with a sip of water. “Yes, you could definitely say that.”

“Well, Ryuji will make you forget about that asshole. He’s super sweet and fun. I told him we’d be at his show tomorrow, so please tell me you’re still in.”

“I am, I am,” you assure her, only half-meaning it. To be honest, you did forget about Ryuji after what happened with Toji. But now with the jackass back to being the roommate from hell, you’re thrilled to go out with a normal human being. 

The rest of the workday goes by without a hitch. When you return home, you have the place to yourself; it seems that Toji has left for the gym earlier than usual. You have no clue what he does during the day, if he even has a legitimate job or not. Somehow, he makes enough money to pay rent and that’s all that matters to you. Most nights, he’s at the gym for hours, which clearly shows in his impressive physique. Other than that, you barely know a thing about it, a stranger you’ve been living with for the past two months. A part of you likes it this way, though. The mystery, the intrigue. It’s exciting, unfamiliar territory that draws you.  A little dangerous.  

By the time he’s home, it’s almost midnight and you’re watching TV in the living room. You didn’t mean to wait for him or anything. It just so happens that you stayed up a little past your normal bedtime. Maybe you want to test him, to see if he acts any different in person after last night. Because how can he not? Was it not as thrilling for him as it was for you?

You don’t turn around when he shuts the door closed or when he removes his shoes. You keep your gaze directed at the TV, not paying attention to what’s playing while you listen to him meander around the kitchen, chugging a tall glass of water, opening and closing the fridge to steal whatever you made for dinner tonight (chicken curry). It’s only when you spot him in your peripheral that you turn to face him, watching him sit beside you on the couch, cold bowl of curry in hand. He picks at it with his fingers, stuffing big chunks of potato and meat into his face, chewing with his mouth open. And it should gross you out, it really should. Surely a woman of culture has higher standards than this, right?

Yet, you sit there, mesmerized by him, aroused at the way he runs his tongue across his teeth, that way he licks sauce off his thumb, loud and slurpy. 

He catches you staring at him. It’s the first time the two of you have encountered each other since watching the other masturbate. His eyes narrow into a cold stare. “What?” He says it with annoyance, like you’re the one bothering him, even though he’s eating the food you purposefully saved for tomorrow’s lunch. 

Anger boils inside you. Crossing your arms, you tell him, “I was saving that for my lunch tomorrow.”

He pops a hunk of carrot into his mouth, smirking. “Oops. Sorry.” His typical lazy, insincere apology. Then, he follows that with, “Could use more salt.”

Whatever arousal you felt just moments ago vanishes in an instant. How could you ever think this sorry excuse for a man could be anything more than your arch nemesis?! You stand up in a huff, unable to control the rage bubbling inside you. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

He looks at you, unfazed, almost amused. “Yeah. It’s a little bland.”

You turn the TV off, throwing the remote hard against the cushions on the couch. “You’re such a fucking asshole. Stop eating my fucking food and stop making me clean up your fucking mess!”

He’s grinning wildly now, clearly enjoying this. Slowly, he gets up, towering over you completely. “Whoa, relax. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” His eyes travel to between your legs, his lips twitching with delight. “Oh wait, too late for that.”

Your cheeks are hot, body trembling with anger. “Fuck you,” you say before marching straight into your room, slamming the door shut. 

You’re not proud of yourself for the way you behaved, throwing a tantrum like that. You’re also not proud of what you do before you sleep. Under the covers, you hold your vibrator at the max level your clit, coming to the fantasy of Toji bending you over that couch and fucking you silly, all while antagonizing you for your hissy fit. “Fucking brat,” you imagine him saying. “Need to tame you.” You climax thrice picturing the two of you in all kinds of positions, defiling the living room. 

You’re so fucked.

~~~

You successfully avoid Toji the following morning by waking up super early to leave for work. The next time you see him, it’s past dinnertime and you’re already changed to go to Ryuji’s show, dressed in a relaxed band tee, jean shorts, and combat boots. You’re hoping to avoid him completely after last night’s meltdown, but as luck would have it, he’s entering the apartment at the same time you’re leaving. He blocks the exit, scanning you up and down, lingering too long on your exposed legs. Instead of a normal greeting, he blurts out, “Where the fuck are you going?”

You narrow your eyes at him, matching his vulgarity. “Why the fuck do you care? Get out of my way.”

He doesn’t budge, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Tell me where you’re going.”

You don’t respond, glaring at him silently. 

“I’ll move if you answer me.”

His proposition is so unfair that you can’t keep quiet. “You never fucking tell me anything, so why should I?”

He advances a step forward, trying to intimidate you. Voice low and threatening, he says, “Stop being a fucking brat. Tell me.”

You clench between your legs, disappointed at yourself for how this is affecting you. When he remains unyielding, you relent, desperate for an escape to prevent you from doing something stupid. Again. “I’m going to see someone. He’s in a band and he has a show tonight, so I’m going to watch him. Got a problem with that?”

It takes him several seconds, but eventually he responds. Well, kind of. He simply grunts, then steps aside to clear the way for you. Without taking another glance back at him, you leave, breathing in the cool night air to calm down.

This unfortunately has you fucked up the rest of the night. While you do your best to enjoy the show, which is actually very good, you can’t get Toji off your mind. Not even when Ryuji pulls you backstage into the small dressing room, sweat sticky on his neck all the way into the dip of his collarbones. He has a gorgeous smile, one that looks too alike to Toji’s, or maybe you’re just imagining it. You listen to him talk about how excited he was when he heard you were coming, how pretty you are especially in the crowd watching him. How badly he wants to get to know you better. You smile at him, half-listening, wondering if Toji could ever be this nice to you. When Ryuji leans in for a kiss, you kiss back him half-heartedly, wishing it was your roommate’s lips on you instead. His hand rests on your lap, itching to slide between your legs, but he doesn’t. Because he’s a gentleman, unlike Toji. If this were him, he’d already have his fingers twisted around your panties, knuckles grazing your pussy lips, swollen and pulsating with arousal. His breath hot on your ear, calling you filthy names. Whore, slut, nasty fucking bitch…

You’re on a train home within five minutes, barely thinking about Ryuji’s confused expression at your lame apology of, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.” It was barely an explanation, but it didn’t matter as you left him, Toji now the only man on your mind. 

~~~

Toji isn’t jealous. Toji never gets jealous. It’s a pathetic feeling to have, especially when he has everything he wants. Rock-hard muscles, money from betting on those goddamn horses, a huge dick. So what if you’re seeing some other guy, dressed like fucking groupie ready to pounce on any fucking asshole with a guitar and lip piercing? He has a pair of your panties and the memory of you stroking your pussy for him. What more could he want? He doesn’t need you to touch him, doesn’t need you to look at him with those greedy fucking eyes, doesn’t need to know what your fist or the inside of your pussy feels like around his cock…

Toji isn’t fucking jealous.

He keeps telling himself this throughout the night, while he’s angrily shaking his protein shake, scrubbing his skin hard in the shower, tossing and turning under the covers in an unsuccessful attempt to sleep it off. There’s no use; whatever’s eating at him isn’t going to stop. It’s going to continue gnawing away until he loses it. He has to do something about this. 

The door to your room is wide open. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s snuck in without permission. Your black lace panties are bunched up in his fist; he uses it to jerk off in the shower while simultaneously laundering them; although he’s a pervert, he’s at least hygienic. In his other hand is his silicone cock sleeve, lubed up and ready to go. He had to retire the fleshlight two nights ago, when he pummeled into it nonstop for over an hour, replaying the memory of you stroking your wet, glistening cunt. 

He plops down on your bed, shoving a the pillow to his nose, inhaling deeply. His cock twitches at your scent, sweet and satisfying. Quickly, he pulls his pants and drawers off, leaving him completely exposed from the waist down. He bites down on your underwear, keeping them locked in his mouth while he slides his cock through the sleeve, his swollen tip peeking out the other end. Eyes closed, head rolled back against the headboard, he strokes himself slowly, picturing you rubbing your cute little clit between two fingers, moaning his name. Who else can touch themselves in your bed, black lace panties that you gave him stuffed in his mouth? No one but him. Only him. 

When you walk in on him, you’re surprised but not upset. Surprised that whatever twisted fantasy you’ve had playing in your head the last fifteen minutes has come true. Seeing him already in your room, pumping his dick through that obscene toy, draws you in immediately. 

He doesn’t stop stroking when you walk towards him, only slows his pace. “You’re back,” he grunts out, panties falling from his mouth to his chest. 

You let out a small laugh. “I guess you did have a problem with me going out.”

“I don’t have any fucking problem,” he spits out through gritted teeth.

He’s fucking delusional, denying it all while he’s literally masturbating in your bed. Feeling bold, you ask, “Want to guess what panties I’m wearing tonight?”

He scoffs, though he seems intrigued. “What do I get if I win this time?”

You sit at the edge of the bed, your eyes fixated on his cock head leaking precum. “Same thing as last time.” 

“You’ll let me fuck you?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Here on your bed?”

You lick your lips before responding. “Wherever you want.”

“Fuck,” he swears softly under his breath. 

This time it is an educated guess. He’s seen you wear these before, right before a date, peeking out of your tight jeans as you bend over to put on heels. Another time, they were underneath a short, skin-tight skirt he saw you slide off yourself after a night out, too tipsy to close your bedroom door while you undressed in front of the mirror. It’s not Toji’s fault for looking, he’s only a man after all. Halfway stripped, you even stopped for a split second just to meet his eyes in the reflection, then continued undressing, fully aware he was watching you. 

He knows what you’re willing to show to other men, which is what made him want to snatch these panties for himself in the first place. What made him tick thinking about you doing anything with anyone else. So he’s absolutely certain that you’re wearing your hot pink thongs tonight just to torment him. 

When he gives you his guess, it’s hard for you to contain your glee. Reveling in this moment, you pull your skirt down slowly, revealing that you’re not wearing any panties at all. 

His eyes go wide, pupils dilating. “You fucking slut,” he snarls, quickening the pace of his strokes. “You tricked me.”

You reach for your nightstand, retrieving your vibrator and bottle of lube. He continues to berate you as you prepare your toy. “Did you let him fuck you? Nasty fucking slut. I don’t want his sloppy seconds.”

Unfazed, you spread your legs across his lap, straddling him. “Doesn’t seem like you mind.” His cock barely fits in the sleeve, so swollen it looks like it’s about to split apart. 

He continues to fuck into it, fingers wrapped tightly around the silicone, sweat starting to bead off his forehead. “Did you actually fuck him?” There’s a hint of vulnerability there, something you’re not used to hearing from him. Like he doesn’t want to believe that you let another man touch you after the amazing night you had together. 

And it’s true; you couldn’t let Ryuji continue, despite how sweet and respectful he was. What you crave is this, a normally uncompromising and boorish beast degrading you while he yields to your every whim. Does he have to play your silly little games? No. But he does. He can’t help himself when you’re being so fucking naughty, provoking him like this. 

Deciding to ease his worry, you tell him the truth. “I didn’t.”

He relaxes, though tries not to show it. “Why not?”

You tease the tip of the vibrator to your aching clit. “You know why.”

He watches you rub the toy up and down your pussy, spreading your arousal all over yourself. “You were thinking about me.” It’s a confident statement, not a guess. 

You swallow hard, nodding. Your finger hovers over the button, sure that once you press it, you won’t be able to control yourself. Before you go any further, you say, “No touching.” You set the one rule for this new game you want to play with him. The type of game that makes you feel less guilty about all of this. If you don’t touch each other, just like two nights ago, then maybe it means you haven’t completely abandoned your standards. 

Toji doesn’t argue; for someone who’s proved how invasive and inappropriate they are, he’s surprising compliant to your demands.

You finally push the button, the buzz against your clit instantly causing you to clench around nothing. He smirks, the scar on his lip as alluring as ever. “I’m not one of your little boy toys you usually go out with.” 

You scoot a bit closer to him, enough that your knuckles brush against each other just the slightest. “Oh yeah?”

This spurs him on, his grip tightening on himself, voice lowered into a growl. “Yeah. I’m a real fucking man.” 

“Fuck,” you moan, pressing the tip closer, the pleasure radiating all the way down to your toes. Precum drips down the outside of his cock sleeve and you want to lick it off, but you can’t. You shouldn’t. Your pussy is unbelievably wet now and Toji stares at it, practically salivating for a taste. 

He groans, the sound of it deep and guttural in his throat like a wild animal. “You’re just a bitch in heat, running home to cream all over me.”

This has you going feral. You push the button twice to the maximum level and press it deep to your clit until you climax. He orgasms soon after you, the cum shooting out in spurts onto his six-pack. It’s so much that it drips down his side, seeping into your bedsheets. 

He settles down, catching his breath, though the dirty talk doesn’t stop. “Fuck, I want to lick your pussy and slurp up all that cum.” 

You’re tempted to let him, it’d be so easy to climb up and sit on his face, let him run his tongue all over you. But you have to maintain whatever tiny dignity you have left. So instead, you pump the vibrator tip in and out of your messy cunt and offer it to him. “Want a taste?”

Almost too eager, he leans forward and sticks his tongue out, licking off every bit of you he possibly can. You might be a “bitch in heat”, but here he is, following your every command like a loyal dog. 

Nope. When you meet Karasuno for the day’s first practice match, Ukai seems more chipper than usual, bouncing on his heels to greet Coach Nekomata, patting him on the back jovially. You walk over to Takeda, who grins at you, your exhaustion surely obvious on your face. “Good morning?” he chuckles, phrasing it like a question. 

You yawn, crossing your arms over your chest. “It could be better.”

“I know what you mean. It was so hot last night, I couldn’t sleep!”

The memory of last night flashes through your mind. “You can say that again.”

Keishin suddenly joins you, wedging himself between you and Takeda, wrapping his arms around the two of you. “Great day for some volleyball, am I right?” He squeezes your shoulder. His scent has become a sort of aphrodisiac to you, a bit of that natural musk combined with the lingering smell of smoke from his morning cigarette. You can feel the heat off of him, so much it radiates to between your legs. And you know you’re not supposed to find him so appealing, so goddamn attractive. Yet here you are, ready to jump his bones in front of everyone. 

Before you do anything stupid, you shrug him off, distancing yourself from him. “Yep. Another great day for Nekoma to beat Karasuno.”

He laughs heartily, the rasp in his voice evident. “Those are fighting words. I didn’t expect that from you, Senpei.” You hate yourself for getting so turned on from hearing him call you that. 

You slide your hands in your pockets, trying to play it cool. “I’m just confident in our team. The boys have been working their asses off. I believe in them whole-heartedly.”

Karasuno’s team manager beckons for Takeda and when he excuses himself, Ukai takes a step towards you. “Well, if you’re so confident, then do you care to wager a bet?”

You look at him curiously, raising a brow. “A bet?”

Closer now, he smirks, the same silly sexy smirk from last night and a wave arousal crashes over you. His voice is low, sultry, only for you to hear. “Yeah. If your team wins, I’ll let you fuck me however you like – ” 

“Did I hear something about a bet?!” Coach Nekomata interrupts, the old man as stealthy as ever. He has a big smile on his face when he says to Ukai, “I have an idea! When we beat you, then you and Coach Takeda have to come out for drinks.”

Ukai chuckles, nudging Nekomata playfully. “Won’t it be past your bedtime, Old Man?”

Nekomata slaps the younger man hard on the back. “Ha! You’re becoming more and more like your grandpa every day. Even have the crow’s feet to match.”

“Hey! I’m not that old yet!” They laugh together, Ukai sneaking a glance at you, a big smile on his face.

Before you can excuse yourself from what seems like a serious bonding moment between the two, Nekomata says your name. “You’re coming with us too!”

You know better than to argue with him, so all you can do is nod politely and join Ayumi at the bench to go over some last-minute preparations, containing the excitement bubbling in your chest from spending another night with Keishin. 

It ends up being an amazing match, with Nekoma beating Karasuno in three tight sets. Ukai orders his team to do diving drills on the court as punishment while you summarize your notes to the boys, who listen intently. Coach Nekomata chimes in as necessary, but lets you take the reins for the most part, which you appreciate. 

When it’s time for lunch, you offer to take over water refill duties so that Ayumi can spend time with her peers. You carry the empty bottles in a large bag to the nearest water fountain, right outside the cafeteria. Halfway through, you hear steps approaching from behind, then a familiar voice. “I was wondering where you ran off to.”

You turn to see Ukai walking towards you, hefting his own big bag over his shoulder, other hand casually in his pocket. 

“I’m on water duty,” you tell him, tightening the lid on the bottle you just filled, stashing it with the others.

He smiles, taking his place next to you at the unoccupied fountain. “Me too. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you say, scooting over. “You can do whatever you want.”  

He raises a brow at you, dropping his bag to the ground. “Is that so?” 

“Mm-hm,” you muse, avoiding his gaze. You bend down to retrieve an empty bottle, sticking your ass out in an obvious attempt to get his attention. To your delight, it works. He hums, clearly enjoying the view, but he doesn’t say more, waiting for you to make the first move. 

Growing impatient with this whole “playing hard to get” thing, you let the bottle fall out of your grip on purpose, relieved that it drops right between his feet, where you were hoping it would land. “Oops.”

Ukai reaches for it, but you stop him. “Don’t. I’ll get it.”

Understanding where you’re going with this, he shifts to face you, swallowing hard when you kneel before him, dangerously close to his clothed cock. “Are you always this clumsy?”

You peer up at him, smiling. “Not usually. But you make me flustered.” 

“Yeah?” He drifts towards you, the string of his sweatpants grazing your nose. 

You tease his waistband, fingers brushing against his skin. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, taking a quick glance behind him to make sure the coast is clear. “We shouldn’t.” It’s so unconvincing that he might as well have said, “We should.”

You tug him towards you, pressing your lips to his stomach, soft kisses across his navel.  “Come on, Coach. The old man is going to keep us out all night. We won’t have time to do this later.”

“We won’t?” It’s cute the way he says it, disappointed like he’s getting denied his favorite toy. Which you’re taken upon yourself to being for him.

You shake your head. “Nope. I need to catch up on sleep because somebody kept me up all night.” 

Giving him a sly grin, you lick a wet stripe along his abdomen, causing him to whine, ticklish and sensitive, erection growing beneath his pants. “I want to fuck you,” the words stumble out of his mouth quickly. “I want you to fuck me. I bought condoms, lube, everything.” His legs tremble slightly, nearly bursting at the seams. “Need to be inside you.”

Having too much fun with this, you slowly pull his sweats down to his knees, just enough to expose the huge boner he’s popping in his briefs. You nudge your nose to it, breathing in his masculine scent, your own arousal seeping into your panties. “ Didn’t I win your silly little bet? I get to fuck you however I want.”  The wet spot in the fabric darkens and you can’t wait any longer, you need a taste. “And right now, I want to fuck you with my mouth.”

He twitches as soon as you wrap your lips around him, tongue caressing the underside of his thick cock head. “Oh fuck, holy fucking shit.” His continued fucks only get more incessant the deeper you sink, pushing him as far down your throat as possible without gagging, swallowing him. Only when it gets too much do you pull out, wiping away the drool dripping down your chin. 

His eyes never leave you, pupils blown wide like he’s ecstatic, cock stiff and blood pounding through his veins. Ignoring the painful ache developing from your knees against hard pavement, you take him in your fist, slapping his tip lewdly against your tongue, string of precum sticking to you, stroking his shaft simultaneously. 

It’s miraculous you don’t get caught, considering the proximity to your peers, who share a wholesome lunch together while the two of you copulate out in the open like wild animals. It’s the furthest thing on your mind; all you can focus on is fulfilling your sexual desires, which is currently filling your mouth with Coach Ukai’s hot seed. 

He’s surprisingly gentle with you, letting you have total control of the pace. But as he gets closer, his hips start shifting, hands hovering the sides of your face, thumbs grazing your cheeks, too afraid to grab you outright. It’s cute how his persona is that of a punk, but under all that is a gentleman, a sweetheart that you’ve totally fallen for. You stroke him faster, sliding your other hand beneath your panties to touch yourself. At this, he loses it, his orgasm shooting to the back of your mouth in forceful spurts. You guzzle him down happily, making sure to swallow every ounce of him.

When you’re done, you stand up slowly, the pain in your knees finally registering to your brain. You soon forget about it though when Ukai pulls you in and kisses you sloppy. “I like tasting myself on you,” he whispers, his hand joining yours still shoved down your pants, guiding your own fingers to massage your clit. You melt into him, letting him do all the work this time, stroking your pussy while his tongue explores every crevice of your mouth. Eventually, he finds his way inside you, his fingers gliding smoothly in and out of your wet cunt while you work your clit faster and faster until you come like this, coating his digits in your cream. 

“Fuck.” Ukai pulls out, sticking his fingers into his mouth to taste you. “Fuck,” he repeats with emphasis, kissing you once more, unable to contain his smile. 

You wrap your arms around him, savoring this moment a little while longer before the chatter inside the cafeteria becomes more audible, signaling the end of lunch. The two of you reluctantly separate, Ukai pressing a soft kiss on top of your head before you’re completely apart, abandoning your forgotten water bottles to wash up in the nearby bathroom.

Some of the kids are out by the time you return outside, Ukai following close behind you. Ayumi waves, running to meet you. “Thank you so much Sensei!” She glances at the rival coach suspiciously, then looks down, spotting the few empty bottles you had left. “I’ll finish these,” she offers cheerfully, sliding between you two towards the fountain. “I hope Coach Ukai didn’t bother you too much,” she says coldly, back facing you. 

Call it carnal attraction or whatever, but no matter how fucking irate he makes you, you can’t help fantasizing being trapped beneath his massive pecs, bulging biceps surrounding you, kissing and licking him all over that delicious scar across the right corner of his lips. You know he has a big dick; you haven’t seen it for yourself, but you’ve peeked at the outline of it through those grey sweats he always wears, parading it around for everybody to admire. He’s brought women home before, railing them in his bedroom across the hall, their moans always so excessive and wanton that even the max volume on your noise-cancelling headphones isn’t enough to drown them out. Another goddamn reason he annoys you beyond wit’s end, even if you do imagine yourself being on the receiving end, getting pounded by that huge cock of his. Screaming  “Fuck me Toji!” over and over again into his pillow until it’s wet with your spit. 

Ugh, what a fucking prick. 

It finally crosses the line though. You start noticing it two weeks ago when you were folding laundry. A few pairs of missing underwear. At the time, you chalked it up to the washing machine eating them to never be found again. It happens, nothing too concerning to worry about. But when you clock that it’s always a certain pair, something skimpy, something silky, something tiny, like the thongs you typically wear on a date, then you start to suspect something more nefarious. In this case, someone.

You decide to test it out by laying out a trap, a small piece of cheese to lure the rat. In this case, it’s panties, the lacey black pair with the little bows. You suspect the worst, that your disgraceful and frustratingly hot roommate is totally sneaking into your room to steal your worn garments. Part of you still gives him the benefit of the doubt, a very tiny, miniscule part of you. But of course, it’s just as bad as you think. Because when you come home, it’s completely gone from the top of your hamper. Despite the evidence being clear as day, you can’t fully believe it. This sick fuck is actually taking your dirty underwear! 

When he leaves for the gym, your body reacts before your brain can tell you to stop. If this motherfucker is sneaking into your room to take your things, then you have every right to sneak into his room to take it right back. You march straight for his bedroom and search the first place you think he’d be hiding this filthy secret of his: the bedside drawer. And lo and behold, it’s there in all its perverted glory. Five pairs all bunched up next to a half-empty bottle of lube and an obscene sex toy. Real classy. 

In theory, you should be disgusted, absolutely appalled by this abhorrent discovery. And you are, you absolutely are. It’s right there, your dirty underwear further defiled by whatever vile acts he’s committed with it. It’s awful, totally repugnant and revolting and sleazy. Straight up nasty. You imagine him laid out on this bed, your hot pink thongs between his fingers as he strokes his throbbing cock in his fist, precum dribbling out of the tip. Or your silk piece stuffed inside his mouth as he fucks his fleshlight so hard that its fake pussy lips rip at the seams. Perhaps all he does with it is sniff it, inhale your womanhood through his nostrils so deeply that he can almost taste your pussy. And maybe he does just that, running your lacey panties across his tongue, salivating at how delicious you are in his mouth. 

Oh no, oh god no. This is bad, this is so so bad. You’re not disgusted by this at all. In fact, you’re aroused. You’re wet just thinking about him getting off to your panties, his brows furrowed tight, sweat beading off his forehead as he jerks himself into oblivion. And if he’s allowed to have this much fun with it, why can’t you?

By the time he returns from the gym, you’ve already washed the evidence and have it back in your possession. You confront him after his shower, knocking lightly on his door dressed in a nightgown that’s a little too short on you. He opens it, sporting a tight white tee and an even tighter pair of briefs, scrubbing a towel over his damp hair as if he isn’t casually looking like a Calvin Klein model. “What do you want?” His tone is blunt as usual, expression indifferent, though his eyes take a quick scan of you up and down in the attire you’re wearing.

You swallow your nerves, smiling politely at him. “I just wanted to ask you something. Can you come to my room?”

There’s a tinge of confusion when his brow raises ever-so-slightly at you. This never happens; the two of you tend to avoid each other at all costs. He’s never been invited to your room before. Still, he follows you down the hall, not questioning it. You lead him inside, not bothering to shut the door closed. Pointing at the floor, you tell him, “Please sit.”

He glares at you. “Excuse me?” 

“I think you’ll want to be seated for this,” you respond, unbothered. 

“What the fuck are you – ”

“I found my underwear in your room.”

He gawks at you, then quickly gathers himself to deny it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You narrow your eyes. “Really? Seems like you know exactly what I’m talking about. It was all there, right next to your lube and fleshlight.”

This shuts him up. Taking a deep breath, he steps towards you, pointing an accusing finger. “You had no right to sneak into my room.”

You do the same, shortening the distance between you. “You had no right to sneak into my room and steal my dirty underwear, you fucking freak.”

“You have no proof,” he challenges you.

“The proof is right here, asshole.” You point to your bedside drawer, where the evidence lies hidden from view. “I have reason to report you to the police.”

He crosses his arms over his big chest, his nipples peaked through the fabric. “Then fucking do it. See if I care.”

The tension is so heavy between you, it’s taking everything to resist yourself from pouncing on him. You give him a smirk, feeling confidence you’ve never felt before. “Not yet. Doesn’t seem fair that you got to have all this fun in my expense. I want to play a little game with you first.”

He snarls at you. “What the fuck are you on about?”

You sit down at the edge of your bed, the hem of your nightgown riding up your thighs as you cross one leg over the other. “Out of all the ones you’ve taken from me, I want you to guess which pair of underwear I’m wearing right now.” You fold your hands over your lap. “And no cheating.”

At first, he’s perplexed by this proposition, unsure if this is real or if it’s just some trap he’s destined to fall for again. Then, he gulps loudly, asking, “What happens if I guess right?”

You grin at him. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

He licks his lip, erection growing in his briefs. “And if I’m wrong?”

“You’ll have to watch me play with myself. And get these panties dirty all over again.”

He can’t help himself from swearing under his breath. “Sounds like a win-win situation.”

You chuckle. “Trust me, I think you’re a loser either way.”  Scooting farther back onto the bed, making sure to pull down the hem of your gown to hide yourself, you ask, “So…what’s your guess?”

You’re fully aware of how ridiculous this “game” is. Toji is completely right; it’s a win-win situation. If he’s right, he’ll fuck your brains out. If he’s wrong, you get to torment him by spreading your legs while he watches, wishing he could fuck you. And to be quite honest, you’re hoping he’s wrong. To see him on his knees, groveling, begging for a touch, a taste. It’s a sight you want to engrave in your memory. You realize in this moment that you’re just as much of a freak as he is, finding pleasure out of this fucked up situation.

Toji studies you carefully, trying to see if he can get a glimpse of an outline, shape, or color. He’s not ashamed to admit he’s familiar with the panties he stole from you. You haven’t accused him yet of specifics, but he can guarantee that whatever your suspicions are, they’re absolutely right. He’s sullied them in all the ways he can think of. But this is something he never dreamed could actually come true. First and foremost, you absolutely despise him, for good reason. Even he can admit to himself that he’s a terrible roommate. He knew he’d eventually get caught, he wasn’t exactly being discrete about it. It was always there, your bedroom door wide open, waiting to be snatched up. In his fucked-up mind, he saw it as an invitation. You were too dumb to notice it before, but he always figured you’d catch on. His secret would be exposed, get the cops called on him, maybe get a smack in the face or restraining order, no big deal. But this right here is an outcome straight from his wet dreams. You in front of him, on the verge of spreading yourself open upon finding out the truth, wantingto be fucked. Being a complete degenerate has finally paid off for Toji. 

After what seems like hours of him contemplating, you clear your throat to regain his attention. “Final answer?”

He’s got a one and five shot of getting it. There’s no way he can tell what you’re actually wearing, no matter how hard he tries to manifest x-ray vision. So, he makes an educated guess based on his own personal favorite of the bunch. It’s a tough choice to make, considering he likes them all. The silk ones were the first he stole from you. It feels so good on his cock, smooth and luscious on his skin. The cheeky pair is fun because he imagines you parading around in it, your ass bubbly and bouncy as he pictures himself admiring each cheek with a hard slap. Despite all the options, there’s still one that reigns supreme in his head. “The pink thongs,” he finally answers. 

The pervert likes the ones with the least fabric, big shocker. You mimic a wrong buzzer sound, shaking your head at him. “Nope, you lose.” Lifting the hem of your dress up, you reveal the lacey black underwear, the one you caught him with. “Guess you’ll just have to watch.”

He sucks air through his teeth, breathing out, “Fuck.” His hand hovers over his briefs, palming his boner. “You’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?”

You slip your hand beneath the fabric, middle finger circling your already aching clit. “Takes one to know one.”

It surprises you when he actually does get down on his knees, getting as close to you as possible without making contact, rubbing himself faster. “You gonna make a mess for me?”

“Only if you do it first.” You gaze at his hand, obscuring the cock you’ve been dying to see for yourself. “Show me how big you are.”

“Fuck,” he swears again, shrugging his briefs down his thighs. His cock is sprung against his abdomen, bigger than you imagined. The tip leaks with precum, veins prominent on the shaft, his balls hung heavy. Your brain turns to mush as touch yourself, thinking about how good he’d feel completely unsheathed inside you. 

“Am I big enough for you?” he grunts, stroking himself with a tight fist, his forearm flexed.

You nod, spreading yourself wider, your wetness starting to seep through the lace. “Even bigger.”

“You think about this cock?” He massages his balls in his other hand, saliva practically drooling out the corners of his lips. “Fuck yourself to it?”

“All the time,” you tell him, dipping your finger in your wet cunt, smearing arousal on your clit. 

He laughs, his voice getting huskier the closer he gets to his limit. “I bet you do. Smelled it all over your panties. Tasted it.”

Asshole. An absolute deviant. Depraved and disgusting human being. It’s all so fucking filthy and you like it. You’re getting off to it. It drives you crazy when he admits it, the mere thought of your dirty underwear in his mouth. His debaucherous nature has clearly rubbed off on you, and at this point, you’re too far gone to ever go back to normal. Hell, the two of you aren’t even touching each other and this is still some of the hottest sex you’ve ever had. Some of your guilt for being equally as weird as him is absolved by the fact that you’re not crossing that line of actually fucking one another. Not yet at least. For now, you can live with that. 

You jerk against your hand, needing to feel more. Toji groans, “Are you close?” 

Unable to verbalize your response, you nod, bucking your hips faster. 

“Show me,” he demands. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”

You hook your finger on the crotch of the panty, revealing yourself to him, cunt shiny and glistening. All of it for Toji. 

This does it. He curses, lifting his shirt up, wrist working overtime as he orgasms on himself, cum shooting out onto his chiseled six-pack. It’s enough to push you over the edge; you rub yourself through it until your panties are soaked.

He relaxes, pulling his briefs back on slowly, using the hem of his shirt to wipe himself off. You watch him as he stands up, staring at you still on display for him. You smile, removing your hand from the mess you made, fiddling with the waistband. “Want a consolation prize?”

He scoffs, trying to contain his excitement at this unexpected offer. “Are you serious?”

You shrug as you slide the panties off, tossing it over to him to catch. “Yeah. It’s pretty hot knowing you get off to this kind of shit.”

You haven’t spent much time with Coach Ukai alone, casually passing each other in tournaments, exchanging quick glances and small head nods. He’ll greet you formally, then smirk at you to say something clever about beating your team in that competitive nature of his. His passion in coaching is evident on the court, so naturally, you’re curious what he’s like off it.

Your first summer training camp is finally here. You’ve heard all about this from Takeda, who was excited to set it up in the first place. For the first few days, it’ll be just Karasuno and Nekoma. This whole setup in Tokyo has become a tradition that the players look forward to, so of course, you do all you can to make sure it runs smoothly. Being the only female adult on this trip, you luckily manage to score a room all to yourself. And while you enjoy the private space, it’s a bit too lonely in here that you find yourself spending your free time in the club managers’ room with the girls, discussing strategy and their studies. 

When it’s bedtime for the teens, you take a quick bath before sneaking off to join Takeda at a small bar down the street. He had texted you earlier that evening, asking if you wanted to grab a drink to celebrate the success of day 1. Wanting to debrief with your only confidant on this trip, you agree, excited to see him. But when you spot Coach Ukai sitting across from your friend, piercings in, hair down from his shower, donning a set of black sweats, you can’t help but suddenly feel cautious about the outfit you decided to throw on: a ratty old Nekoma t-shirt and leggings. Still, you sit next to Takeda, greeting the both of them with a wave and a smile, trying to make any lewd thoughts coming into your mind disappear.

Takeda orders a round for the table along with some appetizers to share. He shares his words of wisdom with you, which you take in like an eager student. All the while, Ukai sips his beer silently, popping pieces of chicken karaage in his mouth in between.

When Takeda excuses himself to use the bathroom, there’s a second of awkward silence before Ukai jokes, “Are you tired of him yet?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. He’s teaching me a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that.” He finishes the last of his alcohol, setting the empty glass down on the table. 

You clear your throat, unsure what else to say. “So…do you like doing these summer training camps?”

He shrugs, leaning back against his hands. Your eyes flit to the silver metal of his piercing, the image of your tongue swirling around it briefly flashing across your dirty mind. “They’re okay. The kids like it, so that’s good. But it gets a little boring sometimes.”

“What would make it more exciting for you?” Your beer is only half finished, though you feel heat surrounding your face as if you’re tipsy, the words tumbling out of your mouth almost too quickly. 

He looks directly at you, something gleaming in his gaze, and smirks, sending an odd sensation down towards your navel. “I don’t know yet. Maybe you can help me figure that out.”

You’re this close to pouncing on him when Takeda returns, clapping his hands to snap you out of it. “Alright! Let’s head back!”

~~~

Back in your room, tucked in and ready for bed, Ukai’s words keep replaying over and over in your head. Maybe you can help me figure that out. What did he mean by that? Was that a simple answer to your simple question? Or was he trying to imply something? Based on the way he was looking at you, all sexy and mysterious like, you want to think he was definitely hinting at something. Whatever he meant by that, it doesn’t stop your fantasies from playing out in your head. Soon, your fingers are in your panties, rubbing small circles on your clit, imagining Coach Ukai’s tongue down there instead. The way he’d smirk at you as his lips surround you, slurping and sucking. He looks so sexy with his hair down, the blonde strands scattered messily across his forehead. You bet he’s huge based on the way he wears those sweats, heavy and thick, the perfect size to fill you up…

You come fast, stripping the blanket off to find much needed relief in the sweltering heat. Sweat covers you almost completely and you lay there in postcoital bliss, staring up at the ceiling, immediately guilty for being a pervert that touches themselves to their work colleague. 

After you change into a clean pair of underwear, shoving your wet panties barely aside, you leave your room one last time for some fresh air, hoping that will bring you back to your senses. You rush out the door, breathing in the breeze through your nostrils.

“Hey.”

You whip around to find Ukai standing outside, a burning cigarette between his fingers. He tosses it to the ground, stomping it out with his slides. He’s wearing the same black sweats as earlier, though this time, he’s in just a white tank top, showing off his surprisingly chiseled biceps. 

You stop in your tracks, staring at him, responding with a quiet, “Hey.”

He grins, taking a few steps towards you. “Can’t sleep either?”

You swallow hard. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

Ukai stuffs his hand in his pockets, staring up at the moon, the bright glow of it illuminating on his irises. “So damn hot in my room. Too many people in there.”

Without really thinking about it, you blurt out, “Well, I’ve got a whole room to myself, if you need some more space.”  

He smirks at you, raising a curious brow. “Are you sure that’s appropriate, Senpai?”

Heat pools in your belly, spurred by his words and that naughty, gorgeous smile of his. “We have a long day tomorrow. It’s important we get proper rest, right?” You cross your arms over your chest, avoiding his gaze by looking straight ahead. “And maybe it’ll make this trip more exciting for you.”

He’s really close now, behind you, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Yeah, I think it will.”  

You grab his hand, leading him back inside. He follows you down the corridor, pressing a finger to his lips as you pass the men’s sleeping quarters, rumbling with a symphony of snores and heavy breathing. You understand now why Ukai can’t fall asleep and you’re wondering how Takeda manages. 

Once you’re both in your room, he removes his shoes, laying them neatly to the side. You look at him, not sure what to do next, who should make the next move, if this is really going to happen. And before you know it, he’s on you, both his hands cupping your face in an intense kiss. You stumble backwards, leading him to your bed, moaning into his mouth as his licks inside you, hungry and aggressive just as you imagined he’d be.

“You sure you about this, Senpai?” he asks, kissing along your neck. 

You rub the piercings in his ears, hissing out, “Yes. Fuck yes.”

He chuckles, hands drifting down to the waistband of your bottoms, tugging at them slightly. “Did you think about me tonight?”

“Yes.” You give him a wicked smirk, reaching over to show him your panties from earlier, the wet spot of cum still visible. “I even touched myself thinking of you. Coach.”

His eyes widen, staring at the evidence of your dirty deed. “Fuck, you’re such a bad girl.” He surrounds you, kissing your fiercely, rubbing the hard-on strained in his pants against you. “I want to fuck you so bad, been wanting to for a while now.”

 “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs his sweats and boxers off at the same time, revealing his hard cock. “Think about you all the time while I jerk myself off.”

His admission sends you into a frenzy. You wrap your legs around him, trying to touch as much of him as possible. “Fuck me, Keishin. Please fuck me.”

He groans, his hands gripped tightly around your waist. “I know baby, but I don’t have any condoms.”

Somehow, this sense of reason gets through to you, so you relent a bit, unable to contain your disappointment. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He nuzzles your neck, trailing kisses down your body as he slides your bottoms off your legs slowly. “But I can still make you come.”

You watch him with glossy eyes as he spreads your legs open, lapping up your arousal. He stretches one hand up, reaching for the soiled panties in your grasp. You hand it to him, moaning when he wraps it around the base of his cock, stroking himself with it. 

After three orgasms from him just eating you out like a man starved, he finally reaches his limit. He surfaces, sitting on his knees over you, fucking his fist until he comes all over your swollen clit. 

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he rasps, shaking out the last spurts of his climax.

Lost in a daze, you swirl his cum around your clit, making yourself come one more time while he watches you. 

His tongue swirls around you, two fingers expertly pumping in and out of your wet cunt. He moans against you, the vibrations reverberating on your already throbbing clit. “That’s it, sweetheart. Again. Give it to me again.” He bucks his hips slowly, hand wrapped around his hard cock, fucking his fist. Precum leaks from the tip, shiny and glossy, your mouth salivating for a taste. 

You weren’t planning to abandon your own party, but after what Nanami admitted to you in the kitchen just fifteen minutes before midnight, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Want to know my new year’s resolution?” he asked, a sly grin on his face. 

You give him an angelic smile, expecting a normal, totally innocent answer. “What?” 

He leaned in close, pressed himself to you, voice low and quiet for only you to hear. “Get you pregnant.”

It surprised you. While you’ve been ready for a while now, Nanami has always been hesitant about the idea of children. He didn’t want to raise a family while he was still a sorcerer. Even with his recent retirement, you chose not to mention anything about it, not wanting to put any pressure on him. So, when he admitted that to you so casually surrounded by all your friends, you became overwhelmed with emotion, enough to pull him up the stairs to talk about it in the privacy of your bedroom. Talking led to happy tears, happy tears led to affectionate touching, and well…here you are now, getting your pussy devoured by your very eager and horny husband. 

You come for him, melting into the sheets, dazed from the pleasure. You can feel him smile as he gives you a few more licks, pulling his fingers out from you, coated in your cum, licking them clean. “You taste so good,” he purrs, stroking his cock faster. He slaps it against your sensitive clit, smearing spit and slick all over you, teasing the tip into your needy cunt. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” 

Every inch of you buzzes with excitement, yearning for him to be inside you, to be filled up by him. “Your cock,” you answer, voice trembling. 

He bites his lip, pushing himself a little deeper, a wild, hungry gleam in his eyes. “And what do you want me to do with this cock?” 

You swallow hard. “Fuck me. Get me pregnant.”

He growls, unable to resist himself, plunging deep inside you. You wrap your legs tightly around him, latching yourself as close as possible to him. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sloppy against yours, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. The bed creaks noisily below you, both your moans growing louder and uncontrollable while the party downstairs continues to distract your guests. It’s you and Nanami, joined as one, the commitment of starting a family together fueling the both of you into this lustful frenzy.

His orgasm is one of the most intense he’s ever had, cock pulsating like crazy as he releases every drop inside you. He stays in you, kissing you softly now, coming down from his high slowly. “Not yet,” he says, even though you make no efforts to separate from his embrace. He says it with such gentleness, wanting to relish this moment a while longer before returning to your friends.