miya osamu who is possessive. he makes sure you know you're his. grabby in public, hand on your back, your waist, fingers in your pussy on public transport. i feel like he's the kinda guy to apologize when he's going to rough, when he's hurting you, but he just can't help it. probably has a breeding kink and just wants to stuff you so full
axiom // miya osamu
tw ⇢ possessive!osamu, jealous!osamu, lots of pda, public sex, fingering, begging, asphyxiation, breeding, multiple rounds, creampie, unprotected sex, one spank, overstimulation, name calling, praise kink (receiving), marking, getting caught
wc ⇢ 7.7k
a/n: spent all night writing this for you, nonnie. god, i wanna marry samu so bad
The familiar bustle of Onigiri Miya surrounded you as you tended to the last customer of the day. The aroma of freshly cooked rice and savory fillings filled the air, but beneath the comforting scents, an undercurrent of tension emanated from your boyfriend. Though Osamu tried to maintain a casual demeanor, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance, you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of his mounting frustration.
The way his hand curled into a tight fist, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. The rhythmic throbbing of the vein in his neck, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat. The clenching of his chiseled jaw, the muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Even the aggressive tapping of his foot against the tiled floor betrayed his inner turmoil, each staccato beat echoing in the space between you.
Your own heart raced with a potent mix of concern and confusion. What had triggered this sudden change in Osamu's usually calm, patient demeanor? It was a rarity to see him so visibly agitated, his composure cracking under the weight of an unknown pressure. As the customer finally took their leave, you allowed your gaze to wander around the shop, seeking answers in the familiar surroundings.
That's when your eyes met Atsumu's. He sat at a nearby table, his long fingers absently tapping against the polished mahogany surface, a pensive expression etched onto his handsome features. The moment your gazes locked, however, his eyes widened momentarily, a flicker of recognition sparking within their depths. Then, just as quickly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk, as if he held the key to a secret you had yet to find out.
The unease that had been simmering in your gut intensified, a sense of foreboding washing over you like a chilling wave. What did Atsumu know that you didn't? Before you could dwell on the question further, a pair of strong, familiar arms coiled around your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of Osamu's chest.
The sudden contact sent a shiver racing down your spine, your breath catching in your throat at the unexpected intimacy. "'Samu? What's—"
"The back. Now." His voice was low and clipped, each word laced with an authority that left no room for argument. The warning squeeze of his fingers against your hip only served to emphasize the urgency of his demand.
Waves of apprehension crashed over you as you processed his words, your mind reeling with the implications. Osamu was undeniably angry—that much was clear from the tension radiating off him in palpable waves. But the reason behind his ire eluded you.
With a hesitant nod, you released yourself from his embrace and began to make your way towards the storage room at the back of the shop. Each step felt heavy, as if your feet were encased in concrete, your mind spinning with a whirlwind of possibilities. What had you done to incite such a reaction from your usually level-headed boyfriend?
Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely as you waited anxiously in the small, musty confines of the storage room. The air was thick with the mingled scents of dried goods and cleaning supplies, the shelves looming overhead like silent sentinels. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, a frantic bird desperate to escape its bony prison.
When the door finally creaked open, signaling Osamu's arrival, your breath lodged in your throat, your pulse skyrocketing with a heady mix of anticipation and trepidation. You barely had a chance to utter a word, to form a coherent thought, before he was upon you, his lips claiming yours in a searing, possessive kiss.
His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, fingers digging into the pliant flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, erasing any lingering distance between your bodies. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your parted lips, muffled by the insistent press of his mouth against yours. Your own hands rose to clutch at his broad shoulders, fingernails scraping against the fabric of his shirt as you surrendered to the intensity of his kiss.
The heat of his body, the unyielding pressure of his lips, sent desire coursing through your veins like molten lava, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole. Just as quickly as it began, however, Osamu abruptly tore his mouth away, leaving you breathless and aching for more.
"What was his name?" he demanded, his voice rough and low, his stormy eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.
"Wh-what?" you managed to stammer, your mind still hazy from the intoxicating kiss, struggling to make sense of his sudden question.
"That last customer, what was his name?" Osamu repeated, an edge of impatience creeping into his tone, his words laced with a subtle growl.
You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog of desire that clouded your thoughts, attempting to grasp the significance of his inquiry. "Keisuke. Why?"
Something dark and primal flickered in the gunmetal depths of Osamu's eyes, a possessiveness that sent a delicious thrill racing down your spine. He reached for you once more, his large hand splaying across the small of your back, pressing your body flush against the hard planes of his chest. "So you remember his name?"
"What the—"
Your words were cut off by Osamu's exasperated sigh as he released you roughly, causing you to stumble back a step, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. Any retort you might have mustered died on your tongue as you watched him reach for his belt, his intentions unmistakable in the purposeful movements of his fingers.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a sinful promise, dripping with dark intentions that made your core clench with anticipation. "By the time we're done, you won't even remember what he looked like. Now, why don't you bend over f’me?"
There was a certain smugness in the way he spoke, as if he knew he'd already won. And the worst part was, deep down, you knew he was right. Because as you bent over, ass up, ready to take him, all thoughts of the nameless customer were wiped from your mind. The only name that mattered was Osamu's, and by the time he was done with you, you'd be screaming it loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
As his name spilled from your lips, tinged with a mix of reverence and desire, you knew you were lost. But as his fingers slipped between your thighs, brushing against the heated flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your core, you couldn't bring yourself to care.
"Fuck, you're already soaked, sweetheart," Osamu groaned, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles around your clit.
"I'm not the only one," you gasped, arching your back and pressing against his hard length, trapped inside his jeans.
"Oh yeah? And who's fault is that, huh?" he murmured, swiftly turning you around to face him, the tip of his nose grazing along your jaw, his warm breath fanning over your ear.
"Yours," you replied breathlessly, your own hands fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
He chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck. "Damn right it's mine."
You could feel his smile against your skin, and despite the haze of lust that clouded your mind, you couldn't help but grin. He was arrogant, but he had every right to be. He was the one who'd managed to make you this wet, after all.
With practiced ease, he slid your panties down, letting them fall to the floor in a silken puddle. Then, without warning, his fingers were inside you, curling and pumping with a rhythm that had your knees buckling.
"Fuck, 'Samu," you whimpered, your nails digging into the soft flesh of his bicep, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped indents.
"That's it, sweetheart," he breathed, his other hand tangling in your hair, tugging your head back until your eyes met his. "Let me hear how much you love this."
You could only moan in response, his fingers working their magic inside you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hands continued to work on freeing his cock, a task made more difficult by the distracting waves of pleasure radiating through your body. But, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to release him from his confines, your fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, stroking him with a pace that matched his own.
His fingers sped up, the slick sounds of your combined pleasure filling the air, a lewd melody that only served to heighten the intensity of your impending release. You could feel the tension building inside you, like a coil wound too tight, ready to snap at any moment.
And when it did, it was with a ferocity that left you shaking in his arms.
Osamu's fingers worked you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure before pulling out. You barely had a moment to recover before his cock was sliding between your folds, coating himself with your juices.
"Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," he groaned, his voice strained with desire, the heat of his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through your body.
"Then do it," you challenged, your eyes locking with his, a playful glint in their depths. "Stop teasing me."
His lips curved into a smirk, his hand trailing down the curve of your spine, before landing a sharp smack against your ass. The unexpected sting only fueled your desire, a gasp slipping past your lips.
"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.
With agonizing slowness, he slid inside you, his cock stretching and filling you to the brim.
You couldn't help but moan, the sensation of being filled by him sending a rush of ecstasy through your veins. He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, before beginning to move.
His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one eliciting a breathless moan from you. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, coupled with the friction of his pelvis against your clit, was enough to send you spiraling into another mind-blowing orgasm.
"Yes, that's it, sweetheart, come for me," he growled, his own pleasure evident in his voice, the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his shaft.
As the waves of bliss began to recede, you could feel him picking up his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his own release. His fingers dug into your hips, the bite of his nails against your skin, only serving to intensify the pleasure coursing through your veins.
"Come on, 'Samu, fill me up," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, a breathless plea.
"Fuck," he groaned, his grip tightening almost painfully, the tension of his impending release coiling through his body.
And with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside you, his hot cum painting your walls. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your own release tearing through you with an intensity that left you trembling and breathless.
Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. Before you had a chance to recover, however, he was capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, the taste of him mingling with the sweet flavors of his food.
"What brought this on?" you asked breathlessly, once he'd finally released you. He smirked, his eyes full of mischief. "Can't a man want to fuck his girlfriend without having to justify it?"
"You're unbelievable," you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"You love it," he teased, pulling you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "And I'm not finished with you yet."
Realization crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your pulse into overdrive. Osamu was jealous. The man renowned for his unwavering patience, the one who had endured countless incidents of his brother's shameless flirting and innumerable customers vying for your attention, had finally reached his breaking point.
A thrill raced through you at the thought, your skin prickling with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension. Osamu had always been an attentive, passionate lover, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing day. But you knew that beneath the surface, he kept his darker desires locked away, a carefully maintained restraint that never fully unleashed the depth of his hunger for you.
Now, it seemed, that fragile control had shattered. From that moment on, everything shifted, the very fabric of your relationship rewoven with the threads of Osamu's all-consuming possessiveness.
Gone were the days of working the front counter, of engaging in friendly banter with the customers who frequented Onigiri Miya. Osamu's jealousy knew no bounds, his need to stake his claim on you overriding any semblance of professional decorum. Each night, he would pull you into the back room, his hands roaming your body with a desperate urgency, his lips marking your skin with bruising kisses that served as a reminder of who you belonged to.
At first, the intensity of his passion was exhilarating, a heady rush that left you craving more. The way he claimed you, the force of his touch, the raw hunger in his eyes—it all combined to create a potent mix of desire that coursed through your veins, setting your nerves ablaze with an insatiable need.
But as time wore on, the cracks in the foundation of your relationship began to show, Osamu's jealousy bleeding into every aspect of your daily life like an insidious poison.
It started with small gestures in public, seemingly innocent displays of affection that belied a deeper, more primal urge. The way his fingers would intertwine with yours, his grip just a little too tight, a silent declaration of ownership. The way he would bring your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles, his eyes daring anyone to challenge his claim on you. The way he would pull you close, his arm a heavy, reassuring weight across your shoulders, a tangible barrier between you and the rest of the world.
But as the days turned into weeks, Osamu's actions grew bolder, more brazen in their possessiveness. It was as if he needed to constantly remind the world that you were his and his alone, consequences be damned.
One particularly memorable incident occurred outside the shop, as you waited for Osamu to join you for your anniversary date. The evening air was crisp and cool, the stars twinkling overhead like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky. A group of teenagers loitered nearby, their laughter and chatter filling the night with a youthful exuberance.
You paid them no mind, lost in your own thoughts as you anticipated the romantic evening ahead. That is, until one of the boys broke away from the group, sauntering towards you with a cocky grin plastered across his face, his eyes alight with a boldness born of teenage bravado.
"Hey, lady—"
The words had barely left his mouth when Osamu appeared at your side, his arm snaking around your waist in a clear display of possession. His grip was iron-clad, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip, a silent warning to anyone who dared to encroach on his territory.
"She's taken. Fuck off." His voice was a menacing growl, low and guttural, laced with a palpable threat that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes, normally a warm, inviting shade of gray, had hardened into chips of ice, narrowed in a withering glare that could have frozen the very marrow in the unfortunate teenager's bones.
The boy, to his credit, had the good sense to retreat, scurrying back to the safety of his friends with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Osamu's chest puffed out in satisfaction, a primal display of dominance that sent a thrill racing through your veins. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair, a silent affirmation of his love and protection.
From that moment on, Osamu's public displays of affection only escalated, each one more daring than the last. At a dinner with Atsumu and his teammates, he kept you wedged firmly between his solid form and his brother's, a human shield against any unwanted advances. His hand rested possessively on your thigh beneath the table, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin, a private claiming that set your nerves alight.
When the waiter had the audacity to openly flirt with you, going so far as to ask for your number in front of the entire table, a tense silence descended upon the group. Forks paused midway to mouths, eyes darting between you, Osamu, and the oblivious server, a collective breath held in anticipation of the impending fallout.
To everyone's surprise, Osamu remained outwardly calm, his expression betraying no hint of the storm brewing beneath the surface. He allowed you to politely decline the waiter's advances, your words measured and diplomatic, even as your heart raced with a mix of discomfort and irritation.
The waiter, however, seemed determined to push his luck, his eyes lingering on your face, his smile just a touch too friendly, his words laced with a suggestive undertone that made your skin crawl. Atsumu, ever the protective brother, was about to intervene, his patience wearing thin in the face of the waiter's persistence.
But before he could utter a word, Osamu cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. "Oh, I need to go and close up shop. I'll see you home, honey."
With that, he reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of your hair. He pulled you in close, his lips claiming yours in a deep, possessive kiss that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into overdrive.
He made a show of it, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, a soft moan of pleasure rumbling in his chest. When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless and flushed, your lips swollen from the force of his kiss.
The waiter, thoroughly humiliated, could only stand there, his mouth agape, his cheeks stained a deep crimson. Osamu, for his part, merely smirked, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he slowly walked out of the restaurant.
In the days that followed, Osamu's possessiveness seemed to level off, the tension in his body easing, the constant need to hover at your side diminishing. But his desire to touch you, to stake his claim on your body and soul, remained as insatiable as ever.
One particularly memorable incident occurred on a crowded train, your bodies pressed flush against each other in the cramped confines of the carriage. The gentle sway of the train, the rhythmic clacking of the wheels against the tracks, created a hypnotic backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.
You felt the ghost of Osamu's touch on the back of your thigh, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity racing up your spine. You gasped, your eyes widening as you looked up at him, a silent question in your gaze.
Osamu merely smiled, the curve of his lips soft and affectionate, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. He leaned down, his nose nuzzling against yours in a tender gesture that belied the heat simmering just beneath the surface.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath fanning across your face, his words a sinful promise that made your core clench with anticipation. "You just look so irresistible today. I can't keep my hands off of you."
As he spoke, his fingers inched higher, grazing the lace edge of your panties, a teasing touch that set your nerve endings ablaze. Your heart raced, a potent cocktail of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins, your skin prickling with a heady mix of desire and apprehension.
Osamu's hands were blatantly beneath your skirt now, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your rear, his touch bold and unapologetic. If the train hadn't been so crowded, your intimate moment would have been on display for all to see, a public claiming that sent a thrill racing down your spine. But Osamu showed no signs of stopping, his lips peppering your face with tender kisses, his touch growing more insistent with each passing second.
The feeling of being desired, of being wanted so fiercely by the man you loved, was intoxicating. The thrill of potentially getting caught only heightened the experience, sending a flood of heat pooling between your thighs.
You leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you pressed yourself closer to his firm, muscular body. Your hand gripped his bicep, your nails digging into the smooth skin, a silent plea for more.
"Osamu, please..."
The soft, breathless whisper was enough to shatter the last vestiges of his self-control. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, a sinful, desperate melding of lips and teeth and tongue.
His hands roamed your body with a fervent urgency, mapping every curve and plane with an intimate familiarity, as if committing each inch of your skin to memory. His touch was a branding, a burning mark of possession, his desire a blazing inferno that threatened to consume you both.
You clung to him, your fingers grasping at his shirt, the fabric clenched tightly between trembling digits, as you tried to ground yourself amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions. Your heart raced, a deafening crescendo pounding in your ears, the very air around you charged with the electric energy of your passion.
Osamu's lips traced a heated path along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, his tongue laving the tiny bite marks, soothing the sting with his gentle ministrations.
"Mine," he breathed, the word a reverent, possessive murmur against your ear, a secret only you were privy to. "All mine."
His hands roamed the supple curve of your ass, his fingers squeezing the pliant flesh, a groan of appreciation rumbling in his chest.
"Fuck, baby, I want you so bad."
His voice was a low, husky rumble, laced with an aching need that made your pussy clench, the heat between your thighs nearly unbearable.
"I want to fuck you right here, in front of everyone, so they know you're mine."
You could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you, a tangible proof of his desire, the heady scent of his cologne enveloping you like a cloud. You swallowed thickly, your lips parted in a silent moan, a heady mix of pleasure and fear coursing through your veins.
"God, Samu, please..."
Your words trailed off, your voice a breathless, desperate whisper, as Osamu's hands found their way between your thighs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of your panties, the feather-light touch eliciting a gasp from you, the sound drowned out by the clamor of the train.
"Fuck, baby, you're so wet for me." His words were a sultry growl, laced with a dark, primal hunger, the sound sending a shiver of desire racing down your spine.
Your mind was hazy, the sensations overwhelming, your body thrumming with a desperate, aching need. Your hips bucked against his hand, a silent plea for more, a plea he was only too happy to oblige.
"That's it, baby, let me take care of you." His fingers slipped beneath the thin, silky fabric of your panties, his thumb brushing against the slick, sensitive bud of your clit, a teasing touch that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. You bit back a moan, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip, the faint metallic taste of blood mingling with the sweet, salty taste of Osamu's kisses.
His fingers slid along your dripping folds, the sensation almost unbearably intense, the sound of his voice, a low, sultry murmur, drowning out the chaos around you. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, don't worry."
With that, his fingers plunged inside you, his deft digits stretching you in the most delicious way, a welcome intrusion that made your core clench, a choked whimper escaping your lips.
You clung to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne a heady, intoxicating scent.
Your hips rocked against his hand, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the sway of the train, the friction creating a delicious, aching friction that threatened to send you over the edge.
"Samu, please, I need you," you whispered, your words a breathless, desperate plea, your core clenching around his fingers.
Osamu chuckled, the sound a dark, seductive rumble, the low timbre vibrating through your body. His lips brushed against your ear, his breath fanning against your heated skin, a sensual, forbidden promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart, l'm gonna give you everything you need."
As he spoke, his fingers moved deeper within you, the pads of his digits brushing against the bundle of nerves hidden within your walls, a spot he knew all too well. He increased the pressure, the movements of his fingers unrelenting, the pace building, a slow, torturous crescendo.
The sensations were overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain, the air in your lungs burning, the muscles of your thighs quivering, the heat coiling deep within you reaching a fever pitch. You could feel the tears stinging your eyes, the words slipping from your lips a frantic, broken mantra.
"Please, please, please, Samu, please."
"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into the warm cavern of your mouth, a deep, carnal melding of lips and teeth and tongue. His fingers were a relentless piston within you, the sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a tsunami of pleasure coursing through your veins, the intensity making your knees buckle, your fingers digging into the solid muscles of his biceps. You could feel his smirk against your lips, the smug, satisfied curve of his mouth only adding to the overwhelming sensations.
He slowed his movements, the pace languid and unhurried, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible, the soft, teasing caresses making your toes curl, a shuddering aftershock rippling through your body. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, his lips lingering against yours, a soft, loving press, before slowly pulling away.
His eyes were hooded, the gray orbs a stormy, smoky shade, his pupils blown wide with desire. His lips were slightly swollen, a rosy pink from the fervent nature of his kisses, the curve of his smile a tender, adoring expression.
"God, I love you," he murmured, his voice a reverent whisper, a sacred declaration.
You could feel the blush blooming across your cheeks, a rosy, flustered flush that made him chuckle. His thumb gently wiped away the stray tear that had slipped from your eye, his touch a reassuring, steadying caress.
He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your lips before carefully extracting his hand from between your thighs. You watched, mesmerized, as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out, a sly, teasing lick, his eyes never leaving yours.
"God, baby, you taste so good," he murmured, the words a low, husky rumble, his voice laced with a dark, sensual undercurrent.
"I could eat you all day."
You shuddered, a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, the very image a visceral, erotic fantasy come to life. But before you could respond, the train screeched to a halt, the automated voice announcing your stop, the sudden cacophony of voices and movement jolting you back to reality.
You hastily smoothed down your clothes, your hands frantically straightening your skirt, a vain attempt to hide the evidence of your passion. Your hair was a mess, the once carefully styled strands now tousled and tangled, a disheveled testament to the fervent nature of Osamu's affections.
By the time you reached your stop, your body was thrumming with a desperate need, your core aching for the relief that only his cock could provide.
As he led you off the train, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, your mind swirled with a dizzying array of emotions. The intensity of Osamu's love, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own, was both thrilling and overwhelming, a force of nature that threatened to consume you whole.
The moment you crossed the threshold of Osamu's house, the air between you crackled with a palpable tension, a desperate hunger that could no longer be denied. With a growl of impatience, Osamu's strong hand encircled your wrist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tugged you towards the bedroom, his movements fueled by a primal urgency that set your blood ablaze.
The door swung open with a bang, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a gunshot, but neither of you paid it any mind. Osamu's focus was solely on you, his stormy gray eyes darkened with a lust that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a frenzy.
In a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths, you tumbled onto the bed, the soft mattress yielding beneath your weight. Osamu wasted no time in climbing over you, his body a solid, comforting weight that pressed you into the plush comforter. His legs straddled your hips, his knees bracketing your thighs, keeping you pinned in place, a willing captive to his desire.
Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, your skin prickling with anticipation as Osamu lowered his head, his lips seeking yours in a bruising kiss that stole the air from your lungs. The press of his mouth was demanding, his tongue delving past your parted lips to tangle with yours in a sensual dance that set your nerve endings ablaze.
His hands roamed your body with a desperate urgency, his fingers skimming over the curves and planes of your form, mapping every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. Each touch, each caress, each scrape of his blunt nails against your flesh sent bolts of electricity racing through your veins, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole.
You arched into him, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as you surrendered to the onslaught of sensations that assaulted your senses. The scent of him, a heady mix of sandalwood and musk, filled your nostrils, intoxicating you with its potency.
The taste of him, a tantalizing blend of mint and spice, lingered on your tongue, leaving you wanting more. The feel of him, his skin burning hot against your own, his muscles flexing beneath your palms, was almost too much to bear.
You were drowning in him, consumed by his love and desire, and you never wanted it to end.
With a groan, he tore his lips from yours, his gaze raking over your flushed features, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. "Mine," he breathed, the word a low, possessive growl that rumbled deep in his chest. "Mine to fuck. Mine to breed."
The promise of his words, the raw, visceral need in his voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded to him instinctively, your thighs parting to allow him access, your core aching with an emptiness that only he could fill.
You were his. And you always would be.
A feral grin spread across Osamu's face, his canines glinting in the low light as he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. "Look at you, so wet and ready for me," he murmured, his tone laced with a mixture of pride and satisfaction.
"Your body knows who it belongs to, doesn't it?"
You nodded, unable to form a coherent response, the anticipation of what was to come rendering you speechless.
Osamu leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Tell me. Tell me who you belong to."
"Y-you," you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. "I belong to you, Osamu."
He let out a low rumble of approval, his teeth nipping at your earlobe before he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours. "That's right," he murmured, his voice heavy with desire. "And I'm going to remind you of that, over and over again. I'm going to fill you with my seed until there's no doubt in your mind who you belong to."
Osamu shifted, his knees pushing your thighs wider apart as he settled between your legs, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of what was to come making your pulse race and your stomach flutter.
You were desperate for him, aching for the pleasure only he could give you. But before you could reach for him, he grasped your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head, his grip rough and commanding.
"Stay still," he commanded, his free hand tracing a slow path down your chest, his fingers skimming over the curve of your breast before cupping the mound, his thumb grazing over the taut peak of your nipple.
The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your back arching off the mattress, a needy moan slipping past your lips.
"Patience," he chided, his touch featherlight as he continued to tease your sensitive bud, his dark gaze drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips.
Arousal pooled between your thighs, the dampness of your panties betraying your desperation.
"So eager," he mused, his fingers pinching your nipple, the sudden burst of pain mixing with pleasure. "But we're just getting started."
Osamu released your wrists, his hand trailing down your stomach, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He dipped lower, his digits finding your slick entrance, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with a slow, deliberate stroke.
Your hips bucked against his touch, your need for release becoming unbearable, but Osamu held you in place, his fingers circling your clit with a torturous slowness that made you squirm.
"Please," you begged, your voice breathless and needy. "Please, Osamu. I need you."
"I know," he replied, his tone husky with lust.
"I need you too. I need to fill you with my cum, to breed you like the good little girl you are."
Arousal trickled down your thighs as his fingers stroked your folds, his touch alternating between rough and gentle, his movements designed to push you closer and closer to the edge.
Your heart pounded in your chest, your skin burning with a feverish heat as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm. But just as you were about to fall over the edge, Osamu pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with your juices.
"Not yet," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the sticky-sweet liquid from his digits. "I want to savor this."
He pressed his hips against yours, the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his trousers, the friction sending a shockwave of pleasure through your core.
You could feel the urgency in his touch, the desire coursing through his veins mirroring your own. His desire to claim you, to mark you as his, was undeniable, his need for you almost feral in its intensity.
As his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, tugging the damp fabric down your thighs, his breath fanned against your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "I'm going to breed you. Going to fill your pretty little pussy with my cum, over and over again, until your womb is filled to the brim. I'm going to breed you, and you're going to beg me for it."
The sound of his zipper, followed by the rustle of fabric, sent a thrill of anticipation through your body, your core clenching with need.
Osamu gripped your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lined his cock up with your dripping entrance.
"This is mine," he growled, his voice laced with possessive hunger as he pressed into you, his cock stretching your walls with a delicious friction that sent a ripple of pleasure through your body. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."
You clung to him, your nails raking across his back as he buried himself inside you, his girth filling you completely. His thrusts were hard and deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit, the pressure building with each passing second.
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your eyes locked with his as he fucked you with a ferocious passion, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching places that made you see stars.
Your moans mingled with his, the sounds of pleasure filling the air, the two of you lost in a primal dance of ecstasy.
The feeling of him, his thick shaft pulsing inside you, his breath hot against your neck, was almost too much to bear. But just as the familiar tension coiled low in your abdomen, just as the pressure threatened to overwhelm you, Osamu pulled out, leaving you teetering on the brink of release.
"Not yet," he growled, his gaze dark and wild as he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.
Your fingers curled around the sheets, a moan slipping past your lips as his cock teased your entrance, his tip barely grazing your folds.
"I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, his voice laced with desire as he plunged into you, his pace frantic and demanding.
Your walls clenched around him, your body shuddering with each thrust, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathless cry.
"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. Take my cock," he growled, his hand snaking around your throat, pulling you flush against his chest, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "I'm going to breed you like the little cumdumpster you are. I'm going to fill you so full of my cum that you'll be leaking it for days."
His words ignited a fire in your core, the friction of his cock against your walls sending a wave of pleasure through your body, your climax crashing over you in an earth-shattering orgasm.
Your walls clamped down on him, your body writhing beneath him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless chant.
"Cumming for me already?" he asked, his voice heavy with arousal. "I'm not surprised. Your body was made for this, made for me. You're going to take all my cum, aren't you?"
You could barely form a coherent response, his relentless pounding overwhelming your senses.
The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, his grip on your throat tightening, his breath hot against your skin, was almost too much to bear.
The coil within you tightened, the pressure mounting, until it finally snapped, your vision going white as another orgasm crashed over you, even more powerful than the last.
"Fuck," he hissed, his hips stuttering as he reached his own peak, his cock pulsing inside you, spurts of hot cum filling you to the brim.
"That's it. Take it. Take my cum, pretty."
You sagged against him, your limbs trembling, your core clenching around him, milking him for every last drop.
You felt him lean forward, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm not done with you yet. This is just the beginning."
As the minutes passed, you slowly came down from your high, the room coming back into focus, the scent of sweat and sex permeating the air. Your heart hammered in your chest, your body aching from the strain of being used, but Osamu's hold on you was gentle, his touch soft as he cradled you against his chest.
"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, his fingers trailing over your skin. "I'm so proud of you."
You hummed in response, too exhausted to speak, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful sleep.
But the moment his hands began to roam once more, his fingers teasing your still-sensitive folds, his lips trailing down your neck, you knew that the night was far from over.
His touch, his love, his desire, was a drug that you could never get enough of. And as his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, his cock hardening against your thigh, you knew that you were powerless to resist.
As the night wore on, the intensity between you and Osamu only seemed to grow, each moment more heated than the last. His touch, his kiss, his very presence consumed you, drawing you deeper into a world where only the two of you existed.
Hours later, as the first light of dawn crept into the room, the evidence of your passion was clear. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets, the pillows scattered haphazardly across the floor. Your clothes lay strewn about, a reminder of the urgency with which they had been discarded.
Your body hummed with a pleasant ache, a physical reminder of the pleasure you had shared. Osamu's arm was draped across your waist, his chest pressed against your back as he slept, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.
Osamu had been true to his word, claiming you again and again, filling you with his cum until your core was dripping with it, the smell of sex permeating the air.
You couldn't remember how many times you had orgasmed, how many times he had driven you to the brink of madness, but the memory of his touch, his lips, his cock, was seared into your mind.
The feeling of him inside you, the warmth of his seed flooding your womb, was enough to make your toes curl.
You could still feel him, his cock still snugly encased within your gummy walls, ensuring that none of his potent seed escaped you while he slept.
Just as you were about to drift off to sleep again, a sudden commotion from the living room jolted you awake. Beside you, Osamu stirred, his brow furrowing in irritation.
"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.
Before either of you could investigate, the bedroom door burst open, revealing a grinning Atsumu. He took one look at your naked forms tangled together on the bed and let out a low whistle.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "Looks like someone had a good night."
Osamu grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his brother's head. "Get out, you pervert!"
Atsumu dodged the projectile with a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I just came to make sure you two lovebirds were still alive. You weren't answering your phones."
You felt your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of your state of undress. Pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, you shot Atsumu a glare. "We're fine, thanks. Now, if you don't mind..."
Atsumu's grin only widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, sure. I'll leave you to it. But just so you know, the walls in this place are pretty thin. You might want to keep it down next time."
With a wink and a cackle, he ducked out of the room, narrowly avoiding the second pillow Osamu launched at his head.
Osamu flopped back onto the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I'm going to kill him."
You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation cutting through the lingering tension. "Maybe next time we should go to my place," you suggested, snuggling up to Osamu's side.
He peeked at you from beneath his arm, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Or maybe next time we should be even louder, just to piss him off."
You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I like the way you think."
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I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera
Synopsis. On your knees in front of your boyfriend, it was just an innocent video, right? So why are you hearing his best friend’s voice from behind the screen?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, being recorded, voyeurism, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, mentioned threesome, cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names (babe), swearing.
Word count. 1.5k
A/N. Surprise post. Art by @_3aem on X.
“Smile for the camera, babe.”
You would - if you weren’t choking on his throbbing cock, tears streaming down your cheeks, throaty little gurgles muffled by his leaking tip hitting the back of your throat.
The flashlight was blinding.
Harsh light bouncing off your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes, pupils blown. Chest rising and falling erratically, hungry gaze locked on the way you gag and moan around his dick. “Mmm yeah- oh fuck yeah, deeper. Milk me dry, babe. Look s’pretty on film.”
Strangled praises only spurring you to obey mindlessly, you relax your throat - shoving his pulsing dick deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. Your nose pressing into the tufts of hair on his pelvis, wet with precum and spit. Too cock-drunk to think too hard about the rustling from the screen.
Precum salty on your tongue, you flick his sensitive slit in a way that makes him throw his head back - phone unsteady in one hand, the other searing on your scalp. Breath hitching, he bobs your head in increasingly urgent movements - up, up, up. Desperate, jerky thrusts of his hips like he’s trying to fuck something delicious out for you.
Your boyfriend's knuckles are white on his phone. Deliriously, you wonder why the fuck he even bothered with the video at this point - too shaky, too impatient.
Almost as if he could read your mind, a low whisper rings in your ear, breath hot on your face. “Don’ worry about that, babe.”, zooming in on your swollen, glossy lips. “Jus’ focus on what you’re doing like the filthy slut you are.”
Feeding off the electricity crackling in the air, you tighten the hands massaging his tight balls. Pressing right between them in the way you knew drove him crazy.
You squeal - as much as you can with his throbbing erection lodged in your throat - nails digging into his hips as they tremble and buck into your plush mouth. “Ah! Oh fuck- Hngh- Baby, m’gonna m’gonna-”
His words turn into breathy moans, signaling the beginning of the end. With a final thrust, he explodes in thick ropes of cum that paint your mouth white. You struggle to swallow the hot spurts of seed quickly enough, coughing around his twitching cock. Cum spilling out of your bruised lips, specks splattering onto the back of his phone.
Tears stinging your eyes, but you still refuse to break eye contact - batting your lashes innocently at him as you milk his cock for everything he’s worth.
Chest heaving, lust-drunk words tumble out of his lips, “S’perfect. Look at her hah- look how fucking pretty she swallows my cum.”
Words you’re slowly realizing aren’t meant for you.
Heart dropping straight to your dripping cunt, eyes widening as it strikes you - this fucker was on video call.
Now, he didn’t mean to trick you. He really did feel so awful about it - but watching the way his pretty girl’s lips stretched so sinfully around his cock - he really couldn’t bear to be stingy enough to hide it.
Which is why, a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of his lips, he pats your hair soothingly as you sputter. “Now now. We’re not done yet. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t give my buddy a front row seat to you creaming on my cock?”
Humiliation mingling with something carnal inside you, you freeze in shock as an awfully familiar voice chuckles from the phone. “C’mon now, sweetheart. I bet you’ll cum faster with an audience.”
Thighs squeezing together. Heat rushing to your cheeks. Shit. Maybe you will.
And for all the dark confidence on your boyfriend's face, you relish in the breathless gasp escaping him as you stand. Knees stinging where you straddle his hips - still-hard cock glistening with cum and saliva, leaking onto his toned abdomen.
Surprise flickers across his face, swiftly replaced by a predatory excitement echoed by the appreciative groan from his best friend.
“Well, might as well put on a show, huh?”
And with that, you sink down completely onto his still-sensitive length, groaning at the feeling of him throbbing inside you, heavy balls pressing into your ass. Tears clinging to your lashes at the delicious stretch, you don’t give yourself time to adjust to his thick cock, grinding in feral, mindless motions with reckless abandon.
One hand has a bruising grip on your hips, steadying your rhythm as he thrusts up into you at an unforgiving pace matching yours. The other, angled just right to capture your dripping, wet hole stretched so shamefully on his throbbing dick.
“That’s right, show him that perfect view. Goddamn. Imagine how jealous he is- fucking his fist just wishing that was you.”
“Sh-shit. She jus’ got wetter. Looks s’good with her pretty pussy stuffed.” Low groans spill from his phone, making you buck \wildly into his twitching cock.
White-hot ropes of pleasure run down your spine at the lewd squelches sounding from the speaker - your boyfriend’s best friend not even trying to hide his desperate chase for pleasure.
Balls stinging your ass at the merciless cadence, it’s all you can do to brokenly stammer out “Sh-show.”
A moment fumbling to switch the camera and you wince as the light hits your eyes. A jolt going down your body at his best friend’s disheveled state.
Greedy gaze flickering between your boyfriend - brows furrowed and bottom lip under his teeth as he focused on fucking your snug cunt - and his best friend on the screen - hungry gaze locked on you and thumb mercilessly teasing his leaking tip. Veiny hand moving up and down. Up and down up and-
“Shit, baby. You’re hah- clenching down on me so hard, like being watched, hm?” a dangerous murmur. You whine mindlessly in agreement, mixing with the relentless slapping of skin as you fuck yourself deeper and deeper onto his heated cock.
“Hngh- M’getting so fucking hard just watching her drunk on your cock. Look s’good split open on it.”
“Yeah? She’d probably look better split open on two. Maybe we should let you join in next time. Would you like that, babe? My little cockslut?”
You jolt as you’re finally addressed as the men spoke over you as if you were nothing more than an object. A carnal, ugly part of you delighting in the way you were so used.
“Oh god, yes.” you pant, words pulling you closer and closer to the edge, head spinning so deliriously. “Wan’ both of you. Wanna feel both of you inside me. I need it.”
Your boyfriend's eyes narrow, pupils dilated with lust as he responds, “Anything for my greedy girl. But for now…” his voice trails off, thrusting deeper into your snug cunt.
Onscreen, his best friend groans, doubling down on the hasty hand moving along his throbbing length. “Fuck, I wish I was there.”
A hum of agreement, “C’mon now. Beg me to fill you up, slut. Make sure our lil’ friend hears how desperate you are.”
“Yes, yes, yes” you chant, lost in the haze of pleasure. “Fill me up, please. Want it dripping out of me.”
At your words, your boyfriend’s pace falters, thrusts becoming erratic and desperate as he approaches his climax - his best friend not far behind, fist flying fervently up and down his glistening length - in tandem with the ruthless cock ramming into you.
“God. Such a good little slut f’us” your boyfriend praises, voice strained with pleasure. “Cum for us, baby. Let us see how much you want it.”
And that’s all it takes for you to see stars behind your closed lids, riding out wave after wave of pleasure on your boyfriend’s twitching cock. Finally, he empties inside you with a guttural groan, filling your fluttering walls to the brim with his seed.
So much- there was so much. Seems he was the one that adored having an audience. Though, with the way your pussy is greedily milking his cock, you can’t say you’re far behind.
Your thighs shake in pain and pleasure as his hot cum leaks out of your overfilled pussy, dripping down your legs and onto his quivering balls as he fucks into you like an animal. Over and over and-
With all the strength you can muster, you crack an eye open to glance at the screen - only to catch the heavenly sight of him losing control. Fist faltering on his throbbing erection as with a final, forceful tug he spurts thick ropes of seed. An orgasm so hard that it leaks onto his lap and reaches his chest.
The three of you chasing peak after peak. So sinfully.
Your ears ring, vision spotty as your high finally bates. Spent, you collapse against your boyfriend’s muscled chest, heart hammering wildly against both of your ribs, and cunt still twitching in sensitivity.
Still disoriented and completely fucked out, you almost miss the low murmur from above you. Almost.
“Can’t wait till you’re here to see this in person.”
- GOJO and GETO, TOJI and SHIU, SUNA and Osamu, ATSUMU and SAKUSA, Eren and Armin
A/N. I miss when this song was everywhere.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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