#omigiri - NSFW - voyeurism Osamu was insatiable, and because of it Kiyoomi has taken to opening himself up in the shower, day or night just in case.

Not that he didn’t love being spread open on Osamu’s fingers, but watching cool and calm Osamu turn feral when he found Kiyoomi already loose was nearly enough to get Kiyoomi off on its own.

If Kiyoomi was feeling particularly naughty he filled himself with a plug just to wait for the moment that Osamu found it. He always did. Those times were the best sex he’d ever had. ———

“Osamu, not yet,” Kiyoomi squirmed as Osamu pulled at the plug nestled between his cheeks. “We both know ya only put this in when yer gagging fer it.” “I- Ah!- didn’t expect you to find it so soon,” Kiyoomi admitted, as the held onto the counter.

Maybe he had got ready with purpose. The booty shorts probably weren’t appropriate for a team gathering at Onigiri Miya. And maybe he’d accidentally picked out one of Osamu’s t-shirts which somehow drowned him.

He may have whined a little when Osamu took his hand back, he’d never restrained himself before so what was this. He could hear water running and knew Osamu was washing his hands.

“Take these out,” Osamu handed him a platter without another word. No baby or sweetheart, not even a please. Kiyoomi bit down on his bottom lip to keep it from wobbling as he carried the platter out to his teammates. Had he done something wrong?

He was placing the platter on the table when Osamu reached over him with another, his arm wrapped around Kiyoomi as he did so. “Careful love,” Osamu’s free hand settles on his arse, and Kiyoomi let out a squeak as a finger pushes on the plug. “Ya okay Omi?”

Osamu pulsed his finger on the plug as he spoke. “That should be enough to keep ya satisfied fer now,” he stepped back into the kitchen. Kiyoomi didn’t dare look at his teammates before he scrambled to follow Osamu.

He was pressed against a counter with his shorts around his ankles within seconds, the plug was pulled from him gently and Osamu slipped a couple of fingers into him to check the stretch. “Such a good job, sweetheart,”

Osamu complimented as he slicked up his cock, he nudged the tip in before reaching round and lifting Kiyoomi’s t-shirt to his mouth. “Open up, yer moans are mine and mine alone darling.”

Kiyoomi was grateful for the mouthful of cloth when Osamu slammed the rest of the way in with no warning, his eyes widened as he moaned. “Look at ya, fuck,” Osamu’s voice was low but the sound of skin slapping on skin was loud as he gripped Kiyoomi’s hips hard enough to bruise

A harsh thrust against his prostate had Kiyoomi whining, he desperately wanting to push back against Osamu’s thrusts but he was hopelessly pinned underneath him. He knew if he didn’t come on Osamu’s cock, there’s be a chance that he wouldn’t get to come at all.

“Quiet sweetheart,” Osamu pressed himself against Kiyoomi’s back as his thrusts turned shallow and hard, each one pounding against his prostate. “Ya want yer team to know what I do to ya? How ya sound when yer full of me?”

Osamu chuckled when Kiyoomi tightened around him. “Ya like that? What would they think if they could see ya like this? Such a little slut begging for my cock.” Kiyoomi came with a drawn out whine, clutching at Osamu’s hands as he ground into him as his release followed closely

“Now clench tightly, sweetheart,” Osamu pressed a kiss to his ear as he pulled out. “If ya spill a drop before the plug is back in, yer not cleaning up.” He tries his best, he does. The thought of not showering immediately makes his skin crawl a little but wants to please Osamu.

“Well done, darling. Barely a drop,” Osamu pressed another kiss to his nape as he pushed the plug back into Kiyoomi before pulling up his shorts. “Go check on yer team.” Kiyoomi could tell they all knew the minute he stepped out of the kitchen.

If the noises hadn’t give him away then the stench of sex that clung to him would. “You need anything else?” “No, Sakusa. We’re fine!” A chorus of agreement met him, so he nodded and turned away.

“Hey Omi, ya got something on your… OH GOD!” Atsumu’s voice turned into a squawk as Kiyoomi practically ran back into the kitchen. “You’re a bad man,” he swatted at Osamu’s chest. “Didn’t hear ya complaining when ya came all over my counter.”

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