Semi spanking his girlfriend with senpai kink?

mme-hajime:

“I’ve been a bad girl senpai…” you said, twisting slightly to stare up at Semi. You were propped on your elbows, part of you spread out on his lap with your butt exposed.

It was your idea, your fantasy to be spanked by him. By his beautiful hands and long fingers. You shivered just imagining it. It was a plus that he was smitten with your behind, staring at it whenever he got the chance.

You gave him a wide-eyed innocent stare, your lips slightly parted as you waited for him to take action, to give you a good smack.

“Senpai..” you whispered, your voice close to begging as you shifted a little, drawing his eyes to your butt.

Your round cheeks were so enticing, the soft smooth skin looking creamy and inviting. His hand landed on one of your cheeks, caressing it gently, giving it a squeeze.

You were about to ask again, but before you could form the words his hand raised up to give you a slap that had your flesh bounce in response. Your cheek turned a rosy pink and Semi licked his lips, mesmerized by the movement and your yelp of surprise.

“Again…” you whimpered as his hand squeezed the spot.

“My pleasure…” unhidden arousal dripping in his voice, he lifted his hand to give you another smack.

♥️👀👍😘

Kinktober – Day 6 – Cock Worship – Sousuke x Makoto

Bringing some Free into the house


Sousuke is just fucking done with today. Passing the threshold of the apartment, he feels a weight lift as the savory smell of something meaty and sauced hits his nose; Makoto is such a good cook. Those classes he took were paying off, in more ways than one. He got to do his dream job of being a personal chef and Sousuke was blessed by the fruits, vegetables, and overall prime ingredient choice labors; maybe life wasn’t so bad.

“Welcome hom–ugh, why do you smell… like that?” Makoto skids to a halt, his arms still stretched wide and it would be comical if not for the fact Sousuke very much wants his hug but very much will not taint Makoto with this putrid odor.

Sousuke grimaces, pulling off his jacket and balling it up; “There was… an incident at work tonight. Someone couldn’t hold their liquor so they decided to upchuck it on me.” He toes off his shoes and hangs up his keys. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and then we can eat, smells amazing by the way.” He doesn’t miss and thoroughly enjoys the blush that erupts across Makoto’s cheeks.

“Thanks, I tried a few new ingredients, I hope you like it,” Makoto admits, eyes averting to the wall. He looks so cute with that blush and the apron.

Sousuke reaches up a hand to tilt his face back to his but then he remembers he smells terrible . “Go on,” he says instead, “get back to it, I’ll be quick, promise.”

Makoto nods and hurries back to his domain, Sousuke checking out that fine ass as he goes. Shaking his head, he hurries to the on suite bathroom, tears off his clothes and shoves them in the hamper. He turns on the taps, scrubbing off the stench as the hot water eases some of the tension from his tight muscles but he still considers asking Makoto for a massage tonight, though he supposes he really should give one considering the lovely meal that’s been prepared for him.

He doesn’t want to but he really should do the laundry tonight because there’s no way he’s losing a pair of his favorite jeans because some idiot decided to over indulge; plus they were fucking expensive! His eyelids flicker–down, up, down, up–and he knows if he doesn’t get out now hewill fall asleep standing up; or worse collapse and then he’ll have a panicked Makoto on his hands and no dinner in his stomach. He turns off the water and steps out, drying himself as he walks into the bedroom to grab his most comfortable black sweatpants and the butter soft t-shirt with the tribal design Makoto gave him for his last birthday. It’s the most comfortable shirt he’s ever worn and he rues the day he has to say goodbye to it.

Stepping into the hall, he’s assaulted anew by the scent of Makoto’s creation. It blooms hunger in his stomach and warmth in his heart. Reaching the kitchen, he leans against its threshold, watching as Makoto scurries around. Ok, maybe scurries isn’t the best term for someone of Makoto’s size but he’s adorable in his earnestness and Sousuke is one inch taller than him, so yes–he watches Makoto scurry around the kitchen.

“Oh, there you are,” Makoto says smiling (god Sousuke loves that smile), “I was just about to serve it up.”

“By all means,” Sousuke says, pushing away from his perch and taking a seat at the table. Makoto brings over a bowl filled to almost the brim with what looks like some sort of stew, setting it down in front of Sousuke. Before he can turn away, he grabs his hand and kisses it; “Thanks for the meal.” Makoto’s cheeks erupt in pink and Sousuke grins.

“You… you’re welcome,” Makoto says, drawing back as his hand is released. It amuses Sousuke that he can still fluster the man after so much time together.

Makoto takes his place opposite him, giving his own thanks for the food and then digs in.

“Holy crap this is amazing, Makoto. What’s in it?” Sousuke asks between bites, barely willing to stop shoveling food in his mouth to ask the question.

“Really? I’m so glad you like it. It’s lamb with parsnips and beets. I wanted something different from a traditional stew.”

Sousuke nods as he listens, taking a bite of the pillow soft roll accompanying his meal and groans in pleasure; “Thank god I have to be fit for a living, otherwise you’d turn me into a marshmallow man.”

“Speaking of work, did you want to talk about what happened?”

Sousuke shrugs, taking another bite of food before replying, “Pretty much told you the whole thing when I walked in. Stupid drunk guy, he looked half dead. We were debating calling an ambulance but his friends rushed him away after he puked on me. I probably looked like I was going to kill him.”

Makoto chuckles, “You do have that effect on people.”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to agree with that,” Sousuke complains.

“It’s part of your charm, Sou.”

Now it’s his turn to blush. Sousuke coughs, reaches for his glass of water and chugs it down. “That… was delicious. Seriously, it’s a keeper,” he says, standing from the table and gathering their dirty dishes.

“I can do that–”

“You cooked, I clean, that’s the rule, now scoot, go relax” Sousuke insists, giving Makoto a slap on the butt earning a squawk of indignation. He grins, turning his attention back to the task at hand. Truth be told, he doesn’t mind doing mundane chores, it helps soothe him in some odd way, makes him feel useful in a different capacity. He puts away the leftovers, washes the pot and puts everything away, giving the counter a proper scrub down before washing his hands and adding lotion to keep them from drying out, a trick he learned from Rin during their days rooming together in school. He smiles at the pictures flashing in his mind, reminding him he really should call the red head; it’s been a while since they last talked.

Entering the living room he’s surprised not to find Makoto, assuming he would either be watching TV or reading a book while he waited for Sousuke to finish the dishes. “Mako?” he calls.

Makoto enters from the hall and fidgets under Sosuke’s inquisitive gaze; “I didn’t want your clothes to get stained,” he says.

Ah, he snuck in to start the laundry. “You little brat,” Sousuke mumbles, falling onto the couch and laying his head back against the cushions. It would be prudent to get to bed, try to get some decent sleep but he’s reasonably sure that won’t happen given the ache in his muscles. How people can presume his job to be glamorous, he’ll never understand. If anything, it’s downright embarrassing, having to manhandle drunk men and women alike either to break up fights or save them from toppling over a balcony. He can’t wait to hear back about the private security job, hoping desperately they take him on; it would mean getting out of that nightclub and into somewhat regular hours.

He rolls his head, groaning at the pinch in his neck and isn’t surprised when Makoto’s hands take hold of his shoulders, gently guiding him forward to grant access to his neck and back. Thumbs press into the knots in his cervical and he groans louder; it fucking hurts.

“Sorry,” Makoto whispers against his hair.

Sousuke pats the top of his hand; “Don’t worry, I appreciate it.”

There’s a hum of understanding from behind and Sousuke works to keep his noises to a minimum; he doesn’t want Makoto to feel bad. Makoto keeps massaging, working his way out and down until the angle becomes too steep for him to get a proper push on the muscles. “I think that’s good for tonight, don’t want to do any damage,” he says, moving around from the back to the front of the couch.

Sousuke leans back again, nodding with his eyes closed. He gives a tentative roll of one shoulder then the other, moves his neck from side to side. There’s definitely still tension but Makoto did an amazing job as usual. The addition of weight and warmth draws him out of his self-inspection and he opens his eyes to find Makoto’s face hovering above his own but they close once more as his lips are covered in a kiss. Moving his arms from the back of the couch, he wraps them around Makoto’s waist, pulling him more flush against him, hungry for more contact and increases the pressure of the kiss, nibbling at Makoto’s bottom lips like he knows he likes.

It does the trick, Makoto positively melts into him, the weight of his firm, hot body a welcome one against Sousuke’s. He lets loose a groan when Makoto cards his fingers through his damp hair, pulling away to suck in a breath before he trails his lips on the male above him’s throat, relishing in the little sigh Makoto lets out.

He’s glad for the loose sweats, his cock already fully hard. Were it not for puke boy at the end of his night, he’d probably have attacked Makoto at the door, fucking him hard and fast against the wall, so pent up was he from watching people writhing and grinding against each other all night, his mind wandering to how it felt like dancing with Makoto like that. He really should take him out again, get dressed up and paint the town. It’s a thought he’s had more than once but he always ends up–selfishly he’ll admit–preferring to stay in when the week is done.

Makoto leans down, teases the flesh of Sosuke’s ear with his teeth making him buck up, allowing him to feel just how hard Makoto’s gotten as well. He moves to stand, expecting Makoto to shift his weight around his waist so he can carry him to bed but he holds fast, pressing Sousuke back down.

Sousuke blinks his eyes open, lays one hand gently on the side of Makoto’s face. “Something wrong?”

Makoto shakes his head vigorously, nuzzles into the hold. “I… I just want…

“You want… what?”

Makoto doesn’t speak, merely climbs off Sousuke’s lap who bemoans the loss of contact but is saved from further concern when Makoto kneels in front on him, wrapping his fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants. Sousuke still isn’t quite sure what he wants other than for him to remain on the couch so he lifts his hips, allows Makoto to pull off his pants freeing his still half hard cock and sighs at the pressure release, glad for the cool air against his overheated skin. But one look in Makoto’s eye has him reasonably sure things are about to heat up again.

Makoto doesn’t move to take off his clothes or Sousuke’s shirt, just stays on his knees, looking at cock, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. He glances up through those ridiculously long lashes and gives a smile so coy, that–should Sousuke not know him better–he would think Makoto is teasing him.

Sousuke sucks in a breath as Makoto leans forward, sticking out his tongue to trace a line from his hip joint all the way to the tip of his cock, swirling around the head and the back down the other side. He nuzzles his nose against his balls, placing light kisses all over each sending Sosuke’s pulse into the stratosphere. Makoto opens his mouth, sucking in one ball, rolling it around on his tongue as his hand rubs up and down the opposite thigh. Finally, he shifts up, pressing a kiss to the head of his dick before engulfing it with his lips and slowly–achingly slow–takes Sousuke inch by inch into his mouth.

Sousuke bites his lip, relishing the heat of Makoto’s mouth. His hand reaches forward, grabs a fistful of hair but before he can thrust up, Makoto pops off, shaking his grip free; “Not that tonight. I’d like things… soft.”

Sosuke inclines to apologize but he knows if he does Makoto will feel bad, like he’s done something wrong. Truth be told, he loves Makoto like this. Loves the tenderness in his beautiful green eyes. Loves his large hands, seemingly built for toughness but give such a gentle touch that it melted even his hard heart.

He loves Makoto’s cooking, how he can’t help himself when it comes to cleaning, to sacrificing his own comfort to make this house a home for Sousuke to come back to, all despite his own grueling schedule.

He loves Makoto.

How long has it been since he told him that?

“Ok, Mako, whatever you want. I’m yours to do with as you please,” Sousuke says, keeping his voice as soft as possible.

Makoto flushes again but nods determinedly, adjusts back to his previous position and takes Sousuke’s cock–softened but still aching–wholly into his mouth. Sosuke’s large, so going in soft is a welcome surprise as it isn’t often that Makoto can take him to the hilt.

“Ah, fuck,” Sousuke whispers, working hard to keep himself pliant, to not usurp Makoto’s wishes with his own desire to positively fuck his face. He can do that tomorrow, he supposes.

Makoto hums, the vibrations shooting straight to Sousuke’s spine making him twitch. Makoto’s hands–large, strong, but soft–land on his hips, holding him in place as his head slowly bobs up and down, his lips caressing his cock, his tongue wetting him more with each pass. He’s not able to take him quite as deep but it still feels fucking amazing.

Sousuke’s head lulls back, his hand reaching out again but this time he merely cards his fingertips through Makoto’s hair, enjoying the softness of it. Makoto makes no noise of complaint so he does it again, allows himself more of a handful but he never grips and he never tugs, just plays with his hair as Makoto sucks him.

Sousuke grunts, takes in a long breath; “Mako… babe… fuck that feels so good.”

He feels his balls cupped, massaged as Makoto unsheathes Sousuke’s cock from his mouth only to lick it, flicking the tip of his tongue against the head and slit, each pass making Sousuke’s hips twitch and his ass muscles clench.

“I love your cock, Sou,” Makoto says through a sigh. He rubs his cheek against the side of it, his eyes closed and a smile on his red, plumped lips; “It’s so big, so thick and hot.” He wraps one hand around the base, sucks the tip in his mouth, rolling his tongue along the head.

“Fuck… fuck!” Sousuke can’t think of anything else to say, words garbling in his throat until all he can do is voice the one thing he wants to do, so,so badly. He looks down again, meets his eyes to Makoto’s, surprised and pleased by the fire burning bright in his dark green iris.

“You make me feel so good with this, it’s the perfect cock for me. The perfect size, the perfect length.” He licks from base to tip again, never breaking eye contact; “The perfect taste.”

“I… Mako… please…”

Makoto nods, gives a squeeze to the base and sucks down the upper half, his mouth and hand working in tandem. Sousuke can’t stand it, bucking up again. Makoto gives him a look and he stills, mouths an apology and tilts his head back, trying to stay still, trying to let Makoto finish this his way. He sucks him down as far as he can and Sousuke can feel his tip grazing the back of Makoto’s throat; that alone is enough.

“Fuck, Mako, I’m gonna cum, shit, I’m gonna… oh, baby!” He erupts into Makoto’s throat. He can hear him splutter, choking a bit but he doesn’t pull away, just takes it, allows Sousuke to empty himself completely. Finally, he collapses, panting heavily and Makoto lets him go, swallowing before drawing a deep, long breath.

Sousuke comes back down to earth, rolls his head to the side;  “I think we found a solution for my tight muscles, they’re like jelly.”

Makoto chuckles, the happy sound warming Sousuke all over again. He manages to crook a finger, gets Makoto back on his lap. His hands seek his hair again, fingers weaving through olive brown, and he pulls him gently down. Lips against lips, he whispers, “I love you, Tachibana Makoto.”

Makoto smiles, bright and wide and open and it’s so beautiful Sousuke thinks he just might cry; then again he’s riding high on endorphins. The kiss he receives says it all. I love you too.

Kinktober – Day 5 – Shotgunning – Yamaguchi x Tanaka

Thanks to @therealemma-trevelyan for her suggesting this pairing!


Yamaguchi isn’t exactly sure how he of all people ended up on a leather couch in an overfull underground nightclub with music blaring and laughter all around, trying to look nonchalant but sure he looks more constipated than calm. His eyes seek the main floor for Tsukishima, but he’s nowhere to be found, which is a surprise until somewhere in the din of voices he hears a vague reference to “Kuroo-san” and knows he won’t see his best friend for the rest of the night.

Good for him he thinks but can’t quite push off the little twinge of jealousy that shoots through him; it would be nice to have someone too.

Suddenly, the cushion next to him becomes occupied rather violently and a raucous shout of “Yama-kun!” makes him wonder if he’ll be able to hear in his left ear. He shifts but a strong arm wraps around his shoulders, the person going on, “I haven’t seen you for ages, how the hell are ya?”

Yamaguchi blinks a few times before a wide smile drives away his startled expression; “Tanaka-senpai! Wow! I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Ah ha! Hear that! Someone still knows how to treat his elders!” Tanaka shouts to someone Yamaguchi can’t see then returns his attention to him, laughing out, “You can’t believe I’m here? What the fuck is my innocent kouhai doing in this den of sin unattended?”

Yamaguchi feels his cheeks warming and stutters out, “I… I don’t need a chaperon Tanaka-san, I’m an adult too ya know.”

“Sure, sure,” Tanaka laughs again, smacking Yamaguchi on the back heartily.

“I am!” Yamaguchi insists, belying the point by whining.

But Tanaka just laughs again and swings back the remaining dredge of whatever drink is left in his cup.

Yamaguchi sips his own–a bottle of water–to quench his dry throat.

“So, mister adult, tell me this,” Tanaka leans in closer, apparently willing to yell less for which Yamaguchi is glad; “You have a hit yet?”

Yamaguchi stares at him, not understanding what he means and it makes the older male laugh again; he seems to be laughing a lot more than usual now that he thinks about it. “Um… I’m guessing, no?” he hazards.

“Hey, Yuuji! Get me some of that shit, will ya?” Tanaka calls. “I gotta supervise the corruption of my kouhai!”

From across the room comes a vaguely familiar face from the past that Yamaguchi can’t quite place but he knows he’s seen him before tonight. He gives it up, figuring in the long run, it won’t matter.

“Oh ho? Takin’ on a virgin? Lucky dog, Ryu,” the blonde says, flicking out his tongue revealing a barbell of metal and Yamaguchi wonders how much that hurt to have put in. He passes one of the smallest cigarettes Yamaguchi has ever seen to Tanaka, saying through a laugh, “It’s a bit small for a demo, maybe you should shotgun, you know… make sure it doesn’t go ta waste.” The smirk and wink he sends to Yamaguchi have his cheeks heating up again but his attention is gained once more by the male seated next to him.

“Ah, well, guess it can’t be helped,” Tanaka says. Then murmuring so low Yamaguchi wonders if he was meant to hear adds, “Not that I’m complaining, always thought he was a cutie.”

“Who’s cute?” Yamaguchi asks.

Tanaka gives him a look, shaking his head and chuckling, “I’ll tell you in a sec, for now, open your mouth like this,” he demonstrates, “and wait.”

Suddenly aware of many eyes on them, Yamaguchi questions the wisdom of listening but his default since he was a kid is to do as told by his senpai, so he obediently parts his lips in a soft “O”, his fingers gripping the fabric of his pants tightly as he waits in nervous anticipation.

Tanaka grins, then lights and takes a long drag off the small white stick between his fingers.

Before Yamaguchi can process what’s happening, Tanaka leans up, grasps Yamaguchi’s head to tilt it back and covers his open mouth with his own, blowing smoke into the cavity. Startled, Yamaguchi sucks in a breath, inadvertently inhaling sending the smoke into his lungs. It makes him cough, but Tanaka’s hold is strong and he keeps the seal between their lips mostly intact. Yamaguchi dimly hears shouts and wolf whistles but he’s too focused on trying to breathe to really take in anything else around him. After another second, Tanaka lets him go, and he coughs loudly, slamming a fist against his chest to work oxygen in through the haze. Whatever that was, it works fast because soon enough Yamaguchi feels light-headed, slumping against Tanaka’s broad chest. He manages to raise his head, eyes watering and wheezes, “What… what was that?”

Tanaka looks surprisingly calm, stroking one hand through Yamaguchi’s soft and much longer hair; “That was a shotgun of weed, you like it?”

He’s not sure right away but as the drug takes over, Yamaguchi smiles and nods; “Yeah, feels like… floating…” and then he’s falling again, but Tanaka shifts, holding him up.

“Figured you’d be a lightweight, gonna have to take care of you the rest of the night I think.” He stands, throwing one of Yamaguchi’s arms around his neck and walks him to a blissfully empty and quiet room.

How he found it or why no one’s in here–nor why there happens to be a bed in it–Yamaguchi doesn’t care to know. What he does care about is lying down until the world stops spinning. He flops to his back, taking in deep breaths only to have one catch in his throat when Tanaka lies down next to him before shifting to loom over him, caressing his face and Yamaguchi takes note that his body is still in prime physical condition. “Are you lucid enough for me to kiss you properly?” Tanaka asks, voice rough.

Yamaguchi’s heart leaps into his throat and he turns his head to cough before looking back up into those earnest, heated eyes. Tanaka’s body is warm, his touch electric and his kiss… well…

“I would like to know what it feels like to kiss you without losing my breath,” he admits.

Tanaka grins that feral grin of his making Yamaguchi’s whole body heat up. He leans closer, presses the lightest kiss to the corner of his mouth and whispers back, “Oh Yama-kun, I don’t need smoke to leave you breathless.” And then he’s kissing him, tongue down his throat, hand up his shirt caressing sensitive skin. Yamaguchi squirms in his hold, not to get away, but closer.

He doesn’t mind the world spinning now.

Kinktober Day 4 – Spanking – Daichi x Yui

Daichi leans against the bar, drink in hand. It’s dim, a faint scent of stale tobacco lingering but not necessarily unpleasant. He sips, his eyes never leaving Yui as she moves from one cluster of friends to another.

Damn she looks hot tonight.

His appreciation takes the form of a slightly uncomfortable tightness below the belt but it’s worth it to see her in that dress, and to know what’s underneath.

He downs the remainder of his glass and orders another. The drink appears promptly and he nods thanks to the barkeep before moving away, weaving his way through the crowd to where Yui stands laughing with Shoyou and Hitoka Hinata.

“Oh! Good evening Sawamura-san! This such a great party!” Hinata exclaims, his trademark bright grin on full display.

Daichi nods, taking his place beside Yui. As the conversation continues he subtly lifts one hand and settles it on Yui’s exposed back. Her skin is cool and he feels her lean into his hold, no doubt seeing more warmth, which he’s happy to provide.

As he listens, his thumb traces a pattern on her skin, slow and steady. Yui’s ability to remain focused, while admirable, has the unfortunate (for her) effect of bringing out the deviant in Daichi.

Without hesitation, his hand moves south, palm sliding over the skin tight silk cradling her delectable ass, and stays there; strong, secure and positively possessive.

Yui stutters slightly but recovers quickly, speaking faster thanks to frayed nerves.

If the Hinatas noticed, they make no show of it, which means they don’t because neither have that good of a poker face.

Presently, they move away, and Yui turns quickly her eyes flashing but Daichi reads the heat beyond the indignation. “You’re terrible! Can’t you behave?” she whispers harshly.

One side of Daichi’s lip curls into a smirk he knows Yui’s weak for; it’s gotten him out of (and no doubt in to) trouble before. “Your fault, minx,” he whispers back, his tone is low and sultry.

He loves the flush of her cheeks when he’s like this, it drives him from hungry to famished. He steps closer, wraps his arm around her once more but she pulls away quickly, smacking the top of his hand. “Be good,” she admonishes.

“Or what?” he challenges crowding her against the wall.

Yui lets out a tsk, her gaze dropping from his. He makes to move it back again but a call of his name from across the room interrupts his seduction. He sighs, begins to draw away but not before reaching around and squeezing one cheek. He practically growls in her ear, “I’ll be seeing this later.”

“Dai…chi…”

He couldn’t wait, pulling her into the powder room and locking the door. Now he has Yui right where he wants her, laid out on his lap as he sits on the chaise, the skit of her dress shoved haphazardly above her waist leaving her ass in perfect position for proper appreciation.

A firm smack cuts off anything further she attempts to say.

Daichi smooths his hand over the red mark, leans down to place a kiss on it making her twitch. She shifts, brushing against his raging hard on and he smacks her again. “Stay still,” he grunts.

Yui whimpers but complies, does her best to hold her position as Daichi takes large handfuls of her ass, almost as though he means to mold something of the flesh but he merely releases again, smoothing over her soft skin.

“I love all your curves but…this ass…damn.”

He gives her another smack, less strong but the snap feels loud echoing against the tile.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Yui. God, having to watch you walk around in this all night, seeing other guys check you out.” He spanks her again. “I wanted to bend you over my knee right then and there, give you a good spanking.”

Another smack, another whimper. Daichi leans to look at her face. Her eyes are closed tight, brow scrunched slightly, her poor bottom lip abused by teeth working to stifle louder noises.

That won’t do at all.

Without warning he flips her over and stands, sets her on shaky legs before the wall. “You might wanna brace yourself,” he says, voice thick. Then he drops into a crouch, spreads her cheeks and licks between them.

“Daichi!”

That’s better.

He smacks her ass again for good measure; “Hope you’re ready princess, I’m nowhere near done with you.”

I just read the kinktober day 3 and I’m so happy that you also described the aftercare, how sweet and loving it is after a harder session and how important that is <3! I'm so glad October has 31 days and looking forward even mor sinful fics ^^!! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!!!

Awww! Thank you! I have to credit my friend @nerdytooru for advising me in regards to the after care and I’m SO THANKFUL because a number of people have mentioned it so it was definitely a good call.

I hope to be able to deliver more goods! We’ll see if my muse cooperates lol.

Kinktober Day 3 – Sensory Deprivation | Temperature Play | Edgeplay | Knife Play – Asahi/Daichi

Dedicated to my dear friend @therealemma-trevelyan for all her lovely support when I’ve been ready to pull my hair out because writing is hard sometimes and I appreciate that someone as talented and busy as she is sees worth in giving me some of her time and attention. Hope you enjoy!


“As far as countermeasures, I know you could have come up with something better than letting that bastard touch what’s mine.”

Asahi swallows thickly against his dry throat. He’s been with Daichi too long not to catch the edge of anger, the hint of jealousy, lacing his words. It should terrify him really, given Daichi’s penchant for violence when thoroughly provoked, but it doesn’t, though the blindfold covering his eyes invokes a sense of apprehension.

The plan had been going well, a handful of the family managing to get through the doors of The Soaring Eagle nightclub that popped up seemingly overnight on the border of Karasuno’s territory.

Their mission: intel.

Nobody set up shop that close to another family’s turf unless they were looking for trouble. But starting a skirmish over assumptions was foolish; the place may not necessarily be associated to their most intense and dangerous rivals.

So Daichi put together a team to get in and find out what was going on. Dressed to the nines, Asahi, Yachi, Tanaka and Ennoshita were selected to take up the task with Daichi running point from the floor above, Tsukishima hacking into the security cameras to give them a clear view and keep tabs.

It had been going well, no murmurs of impending problems and just when they’d begun to think there was no reason to worry, he’d shown up; Tendou Satori.

Apparently, Asahi is his type and he threatened no end of pain to the rest of their enclave unless he did as told. So to avoid bloodshed, Asahi agreed before Daichi could counter him which led to a rather unpleasant evening from which Asahi returned being told upon arrival at home that “Dai-san wanted him downstairs”.

Asahi’s voice is breathless, strained as he pleads, “I’m sorry, Daichi. It didn’t mean anything, you know that.”

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty eager, I should know, pet,” Daichi growls.

Asahi opens his mouth to protest but gets no further than a gasp, feeling the press of cold metal against his throat; Daichi’s switchblade.

“I suggest not moving unless you feel like bleeding tonight.” The bed shifts under Daichi’s weight but he keeps the blade perfectly still. His breath fans hot over Asahi’s skin, his low voice pooling heat in his gut; “That may not be a bad idea… carve you up a bit… write my name in your flesh…”

Asahi feels a whimper wiggling in his throat, tries to keep his breathing even so as not to end up with less of a mark and more of a puncture.

“My how you tremble… are you afraid… or excited?” Daichi asks, voice even as he tilts the blade just enough to sting but not draw blood… yet.

This time Asahi does whine, a needy broken sound, laced with an undercurrent of want, but he’s not afraid. Not even if Daichi is mad or jealous will he actually hurt Asahi, he’s proven that. And he likes Daichi possessive over him, likes that he wants him only for himself.

Maybe that’s due to his overwhelming sense of self-loathing embedded deep in him from adolescence to adulthood. He’d been a wreck when Daichi found him, the shell of a man whose heart had been shattered worse than his body. What he saw in him that day (or even now) he doesn’t know but he’s so, so grateful.

Daichi glides the flat of the blade against his chest bringing his thoughts back from the brink and Asahi resists the urge to arch. It continues downward, its edge tickling the hairs of the hairs on his stomach, sharp enough to cut a few to shorter than they were.

Asahi’s cock firms up, pressing against the stretch of his boxer briefs.

He can hear the wicked smile Daichi’s sporting as he purrs, “Ooooh this excites you. Look at that cock coming to life.”

Asahi gets harder, his skin burning, longing for touch, even a rough one but Daichi just holds steady, restricting his movements with little more than his voice and a blade.

Daichi hums, “Maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll give you a haircut… knock down your sex appeal a few rungs with a real custom job…”

Asahi winces, a real rush of fear sliding over his arousal. He can’t help it, he loves his hair. It’s the perfect length now, full and lush and healthy, one of—in his mind—the few points of pride he has that’s all his own.

The blade moves away from his body, and as he feels Daichi shift, Asahi has a brief moment of panic, his whole body starting to shake. He licks dry lips, searches for his voice but it’s caged by indecision; should he use his safety word? Let Daichi know it’s too much? He feels terrible, but he needs to know, needs to be reassured this is only a part of their game and that Daichi would never—

The click of the blade closing makes him start but before he can speak Daichi’s mouth is on his, kissing him firmly, making him moan. He breaks the kiss with a lewd pop, twists one hand into Asahi’s hair, and tugs, pulling his head back, exposing his throat against which Daichi murmurs, “Easy pet, easy.” He plants tender soft kisses, and Asahi sighs, letting out all the tension in his body.

Daichi’s silk tie—sporting a thread count that can rival most luxury hotel sheets—drags over Asahi’s skin, drawing goosebumps. He looked so amazing in his new suit tonight and Asahi wishes he could see him, but more than that he wants to take it off layer by layer. The thought brings another needy sound out and Daichi pulls back.

“Ok now?” he asks, voice still low but softer.

Asahi nods, humming assent.

“You know I’d never cut your hair right?” He leans closer, breath hot and words hotter, “You know how much I love to pull it while I fuck you, right?”

Asahi nods rapidly… god does he want that, he wants it so bad. Daichi gathering his hair into one hand, tugging his head back while Asahi’s on all fours, fucking him, making him see stars…

“Do you want to keep going?” Daichi asks, and Asahi can hear the smile in his voice as though he already knows the answer, probably knows what Asahi is imaging and hoping he’ll do to him…

“Please Dai… need you…”

“Hmmm, tempting as that may be, I don’t think you earned that tonight. You’re supposed to be being punished, remember.”

Asahi’s nerves quiver, his whole body alight with desire and he almost sobs at the loss of contact—however small—when Daichi rises from the bed.

Silence descends.

Asahi’s skin hums, his breathing fast. He knows Daichi is still there, just watching him lie on the bed, sight restricted and at his mercy. The rustle of clothing makes his heart rate spike. Hearing zipper teeth unsecuring, he licks his lips again, a Pavlovian response… “Da…Dai….chi, please…”

He hears Daichi’s amused chuckle over the sound of more clothes being removed. Tears prick the edge of Asahi’s eyes, tortured over not being able to see glorious sinew and muscle coming into view.

There’s a rattle and the press of something cold against his lips; ice. He flinches, lips parting naturally. Daichi’s close again, voice laced with hunger but he remains ever in control as he slides the ice cube along the line of Asahi’s bottom lip; “Suck it a bit, you looked parched.”

Immediately Asahi’s lip purse to suck more of the cube into his mouth. He sweeps his tongue against it, eager for the moisture. The tips of Daichi’s fingers lay just against him, the salt of his skin mixing with the water until the thought of drinking Dai overwhelms Asahi.

The ice is melting, sending drops of water dripping on to heated flesh. Eventually, it becomes too small for Daichi to maintain his hold and he pushes the remainder gently into Asahi’s mouth; “Ok, you can finish it.”

Asahi wraps his lips around the rest of the cube, sucking lightly on Daichi’s fingers not yet retracted. A hand touches Asahi’s cheek; “So eager pet,” he murmurs. Then his fingers are gone and a much thicker, longer and blazingly hot appendage grazes Asahi’s lips, the familiar stickiness of precum smearing along the bottom.

“Plea—”

“Roll over here and suck it like a good boy,” Daichi cuts off, voice rough.

Asahi hurries to comply, rolling to his side and encasing Daichi’s cock in his mouth, moaning with relief at finally being able to touch, to give, to make amends for upsetting him.

“Fuuuuck… feels good,” Daichi hisses, more to himself than to Asahi, but he absorbs the affirmation anyway. Daichi cards his fingers through Asahi’s loose waves, gathers some in his hand to give encouraging tugs, urging him to take him deeper.

He does so, opening wide and moaning around Daichi, presses the flat of his tongue against the underside of his cock.

Daichi shifts, wraps his hand in Asahi’s hair more, his grip tighter, almost painful. He begins to thrust, pistoning in Asahi’s willing throat, conditioned to take him to the hilt. “Fuck… so good… damn it.”

Asahi only just barely manages not to gag and he feels the need to swallow but can’t and so opens his mouth wider, lets the built up saliva escape.

There’s a groan from Daichi, his pace increasing; “You should see yourself pet, so debauched, so needy, so good!”

Asahi’s grip on the sheets must be white knuckle by now, his cock an angry shade of red, leaking, desperate for touch but he has to wait, may not get to come tonight; it makes him want to cry.

“Damn your cock is so hard pet. It’s weeping for me.” Suddenly the blindfold is gone; “And you are too! Such pretty tears,” Daichi praises, trailing his free hand over Asahi’s cheek even as he continues fucking his face.

Daichi’s name catches in his throat, coming out a low, strangled moan.

“Should I come now? Would you like that?”

Asahi nods as best he can, braces himself for the impending rush down his throat.

“I… fuck your mouth feels so good! I’m gonna come, you ready? You ready to take my come pet?”

Another nod, another bracing inhale.

Daichi erupts, shooting his release down Asahi’s throat. It’s heavy and violent and Daichi curses his way through his orgasm, his grip on Asahi’s hair so tight more tears escape, rolling down his cheeks.

He needs a proper breath, tapping Daichi’s arm twice. Immediately he’s released and Daichi extracts his cock allowing Asahi to take a full breath. He coughs a little and his eyes burn from the tears but when he casts a half hooded eye look up at Daichi he smiles.

Daichi’s still catching his breath, glorious chest heaving. From this angle, Asahi catches the gleam of sweat on his skin, wants to taste it and licks his lips.

“My, my still hungry?” Daichi asks.

Asahi nods slowly but nearly pouts when Daichi shakes his head; “No more tonight, we need sleep.” He eyes Asahi’s cock, still rock hard and pulsing. Asahi breath catches in his throat, hoping Daichi will have mercy and give him release too.

He chokes on air when Daichi wraps one large hand around him, giving a none too gentle tug; “Who’s cock is this?”

“Y…yours…” Asahi’s head falls back against the pillows, a grunting groan erupting from parted lips.

“Who are you hard for?”

“You… Dai… only you…”

“Are you sure? Not thinking of someone else? That fucking piece of shit redhead for instance?”

Asahi opens his eyes, finds Daichi looking down at him with a dark, deadly expression even as he continues stroking his cock. His mouth is dry again but he croaks out as fast as his tongue can wag, “No! Not him! Not anyone but you Daichi!”

“Mmmmmm… that’s good to hear… that’s very… very,” his pace increases, the slick of Asahi’s precum squelching in his hand, “very good.”

“Dai… fuck… please…”

He won’t last, he can’t, it’s too much. He needs to cum, needs it so badly he feels almost sick.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Daichi hums still stroking.

“Yes!”

“Yes…?”

“Yes, sir!”

Another hum, more stroking. Daichi’s breathing goes up again but is lost in the sound of Asahi’s desperate gasps and pleas.

Finally, he hears, “Ok, pet, come for me.”

Asahi screams, probably sounds like he’s dying but he can’t help it, his release—welcome as it is—is almost painful for having had to wait so long.

Cum splashes on his stomach, warm and sticky but he doesn’t care, he just lies there boneless, catching his breath with his eyes closed.

The press of fabric makes them open again. It takes a few seconds but they widen further when he sees what Daichi is cleaning him up with; “Is… is that my new suit?”

Daichi nods, finishes wiping him up. When his eyes meet Asahi’s they’re dark once more. “I was gonna burn it anyway, might as well make it useful one last time.” He reaches with one hand, clasps Asahi’s chin and presses a surprisingly gentle kiss on his lips; “Don’t let anyone touch you like that again. I don’t care whose ass you’re tryin’ to save, understand?”

Asahi just nods, pecks those grim set lips again and nuzzles Daichi’s cheek; “M’sorry”

“I know, you did really well tonight,” Daichi affirms, giving another kiss before moving away. Asahi whimpers, he needs him close; “One second love, just gotta finish cleaning up.” Asahi preens at the new term of endearment, his usual, the one Daichi uses when he’s very, very pleased. He rolls to his side, watches Daichi roll up the cum stained suit and thrust it into the fire burning in the grate. It catches with a whoosh, the flick of flame highlighting Daichi’s strong jawline.

Asahi sighs, feels his eyelids growing heavy and closes them. A moment later, he hears the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. He cracks open one eye, watches Daichi walk to the bed, his gloriously tone body outlined by fire light and it stirs longing in his gut but he’s so tired…

“Gotta get you cleaned up love, wanna hold you too.” Daichi takes his hand, pulls him to a seated position and caresses his cheek; “Can you walk?”

Asahi nods but as he stands he feels his knees buckle slightly, still overwrought thanks to the build up of his orgasm. Concern colors Daichi’s face, softens it making Asahi’s heart flutter. “Shit, I knew I took it too far. Sorry love, here, let me help you.” He settles Asahi’s arm about his neck and wraps his own around Asahi’s waist, walking him along to the threshold of the immense bathroom; taking the whole basement as their quarters was one of the best ideas ever.

“Sit here, let me finish setting up,” Daichi says lowering Asahi carefully onto the edge of the tub. He’s still tired but less shakey. With a flick of his wrist, Daichi turns off the taps, tests the water temperature and drops in some essential lavender oil.

He steps into the tub, extending a hand to help Asahi join him. Daichi sits first, presses a kiss to Asahi’s ass making him sigh; “Alright, ease down, take your time.”

Asahi does so, sighing as first hot water then hot skin envelop him, Daichi’s chest solid against his back.

He tilts his head, accepts with full appreciation the light kisses to his shoulder and neck.

“Love you,” Daichi whispers in his ear.

Asahi hums, a content sound and nods; “Love you too.”