night! :)

Thank you dear, you do as well! One of my favorite pairings!!

—————————————————————

Kuroo’s hands slid around Yachi’s waist as she leaned over the sink, her attention solely on the task of applying mascara without stabbing herself in the eye, his voice low and warm in her ear, as waggled his eyebrows at her cute kitten patterned scrubs; “Helllooooo nurse.”

He saw the eye roll but also the smile she couldn’t hold back as she swatted his hands, complaining, though her tone belied any real irritation, “Must you do that every day, doctor?”

Kuroo grinned, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck, drawing a mixed sigh of exasperation and fondness from her glossy lips as he murmured, “Doctor’s giving you news, he’s got a bad case of lovin’ you.”

KuroDai – Under the Mistletoe

Daichi isn’t sure how he ended up here but he’s pretty sure
it has something to do with a certain silver haired brat whose epitaph he’s
writing in his head because he’s under the mistletoe with this lanky bastard
who’s been giving him nothing but shit all night.

“It’s bad luck not to kiss, ya know,” he says through a
devilish grin that should be illegal with how much it makes Daichi’s stubborn
knees turn weak.

Not to be out done, Daichi yanks tall, dark and too handsome
down to his level by his tie–gratified by the look of shock coupled with the
very uncool squeak he lets loose at the unexpected move–and plants one on him,
murmuring as he pulls away, “Feeling lucky, punk?”

May I have Sugawara X Kiyoko with a Royal!AU, please? It’s good to see you’re back 😚😚😚

Thank you dear! I know it’s been a while but I’m taking inspiration where I can and I appreciate you sending in a request!

________________________________________________

An arranged marriage, typical of their station, and yet Sugawara can’t help the feeling of rebellion coiling in his gut; marriage should be for love and life, not king and country.

But then he meets her—his betrothed—so beautiful and regal, and yet humble, kind, and best of all intelligent.

And so on this, their blessed wedding day, he more than gladly kisses her gently, sealing their union of hearts and kingdoms, breathing out as they part, “Long live my queen.”

Kagehina snowball fight huehuehuehue

What started as a playful tease is now an all out war, a fact unsurprising given the two involved so their senpai hardly bother paying attention to it anymore.

But after so many years of juvenile flirtation Yamaguchi shouts at the freak duo, “Just kiss already!”

Kageyama sputters, his attention diverted, which earns him a face full of snow—compliments of Hinata’s impeccable aim—drawing roars of laughter from their spectators.

AsaDai – Good Day Kiss

He’s running late, and of course can’t find his keys, his wallet or his scarf; the really fluffy one that keeps the cold at bay and is his favorite color.

But just as Asahi is thinking he’s done for, Daichi comes to the rescue, shoving his jacket into his arms, with a gruff, “Your stuff’s in the pockets, dingbat.”

Asahi smiles despite the insult, especially when Daichi wraps that favorite scarf around his neck and tugs him down for a good day kiss.

MatsuTen – First Kiss

The first touch of their lips was soft, so soft it was almost as though they were ghosts to each other, their nerves holding them back as though they were tethered.

Matsukawa nearly opened his eyes, wondering if Tendou were second guessing this; had he pushed too hard, moved too fast?

Then a hand was in his hair, tugging him forward and Tendou’s lips slotted more fully against his own, a low hum vibrating Matsukawa all the way to his toes; apparently he wasn’t moving fast enough.

Kinktober – Day 7 – Praise Kink – Iwaizumi x Sugawara

It’s a day late but I hope you all enjoy!

One glance at the male across from him—with his smart ass smirk and too long lashes—tells Iwaizumi he should get up right now, leave his beer and go home.

“You really are handsome, and so big.” Iwaizumi jolts as a foot—distinctly shoeless—trails up his leg; “And I bet it’s not just your arms that are thick.”

Iwaizumi grits his teeth, closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He should be above such flattery, it’s not the first time he’s heard the comparison but he can’t help it; it just does something for him. But he works to ignore the feeling because the last thing he needs is another pretty boy and Sugawara is definitely pretty.

How’d he even get into this mess? His cell phone vibrates, rattling on the table but he pays it no mind.

Sugawara does though, scooping it up. He glances at the screen, cocking up one elegant eyebrow; “Lover’s spat?”

Iwaizumi senses danger in that look, shrugs noncommittally and takes another drink.

“Ah, I see. The strong, silent brooding type.” Sugawara nods sagely.

“I am not brooding!” Iwaizumi snaps.

“Ooo…not silent either, much better,” Sugawara says, a coy smile on his face. It’s a much better look on him than should be allowed.

Iwaizumi huffs, takes a bigger drink and slams the glass down, extending his other hand. When Sugawara doesn’t pass him his phone, he makes a “hand it over” motion.

“What’ll you give me for it?” Sugawara asks, swaying the device back and forth between his fingers.

Iwaizumi feels a headache coming on. “For my phone? How about not punching your pretty face in?”

Sugawara remains undeterred, if anything becoming more smug, leaning back against the backboard of the booth; “You think I’m pretty, that’s cute.”

Iwaizumi feels his cheeks flush, cursing his word choice, unable to even blame it on the alcohol because he’s only halfway through his first pint and he’s not exactly a lightweight. “Just give it here,” he grunts.

“Why? Clearly you’re avoiding “his majesty”, it’s probably better that I hang on to it,” Sugawara quips. The phone vibrates again, it’s screen flashing. “In fact, I’m gonna help you, Iwaizumi-san and keep this for the night.” He stands, tucking the phone in his much harder to pick front pocket, fixes Iwaizumi with a devilish grin then starts towards the door.

“Oi! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” Iwaizumi follows, tossing a tip on the table and grabbing the silver-haired brat by the wrist, tugging him to a halt.

Sugawara looks over his shoulder, bats those pretty, long lashes; why does he have to be so damn pretty? “I’m giving you your night back, Iwaizumi-san.”

“My night was just fine, asshole, now gimme my fucking phone back!”

He pulls, turning Sugawara around and reaches for his pocket but his captive surprises him with some move that feels like it should be in a kung fu flick, twisting out of his grip and gaining his own, pressing Iwaizumi against the wall in the hall leading to the bathrooms—face first with one arm behind his back—before he can blink.

Sugawara leans against him, deceptively strong, and whispers in his ear, “So sad, always having to be big dog, always having to take care of instead of be cared for. Maybe you’d like being someone’s bitch for once.”

“Don’t talk like you know me, you don’t know a fucking thing, you—“ Iwaizumi’s growl falls to an involuntary groan when Sugawara’s other hand palms the front of his tight jeans.

“I know you like a battle, I know you like control and I know that me—soft, pretty, and innocent—“

“Tch, innocent my ass—“

“—manhandling you is turning you on.” He gives a squeeze to Iwaizumi’s cock drawing a hiss through his clenched teeth. He shivers when Sugawara nips his earlobe, teasing it with his tongue.

“See? You need this, as much as you want to tear… someone apart…. you need to be taken care of.” He releases his hold just enough to turn Iwaizumi round to face him before his hand moves to his throat, squeezing slightly. Sugawara licks his lips, catches Iwaizumi following the motion of his tongue and grins; “But first, you need to be broken.” He leans up, presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s with a firm pressure.

Iwaizumi resists at first, but they both know his struggle is half-hearted while his cock is fully hard. He lets slip a grunt as he opens his mouth to Sugawara, receives his tongue and moans, gripping the other’s hips and squeezing. Then suddenly the contact of their lips is broken and Sugawara leaves him panting and aching and—fuck, he wants, he wants so badly—and he knows the bastard can see it.

“Wh—“

“Be quiet,” Sugawara orders, hand covering his throat again. He thumbs Iwaizumi’s adam’s apple when he swallows, looks him over, taking in the flush of his face, the dilation of his pupils and the red of his lips. He leans closer, keeping them just apart, looks through those fucking long lashes and whispers, “Are you going to be a good boy?”

Fuck.

Iwaizumi inhales deep through his nose, a bad idea because Sugawara smells fucking amazing . He squirms—actually fucking squirms—under the gaze of this pretty asshole. This is stupid, so, so stupid and Iwaizumi knows he’s gonna regret it, if for no other reason than his pride, especially since Sugawara is discovering with unnerving ease that he can shatter it with some well time words of praise.So he remains obstinate, keeps his scowl in place and shuffles his feet as if to move away.

Sugawara hums, pushes his knee between Iwaizumi’s legs and grinds his thigh up, teasing his still hard cock making him inhale sharply.

“So stubborn,” Sugawara coos, nuzzling the crook of his neck, his breath hot against Iwaizumi’s already burning skin; “Just say yes, Iwaizumi-san, you know you want to.” He draws away again, looks up and smiles invitingly but Iwaizumi is no fool. That look on this man means nothing but trouble for him. But he can’t walk away, feels rooted to the spot, hypnotized by pewter eyes and silver locks. He’s unsure how long they stare at one another but finally he nods, eyes flicking to the restroom door.

“Oh no, for what you need more privacy is in order,” Sugawara huffs. He grins again, a touch of malice showing through making Iwaizumi second guess this decision but he follows Sugawara out of the bar into the night, the cold aiding to stifle his erection making it easier to walk.

They walk for a short distance before apartment buildings begin coming into view. “Your place then?” He kinda expected them to go to a hotel if he’s honest.

“Of course, I don’t take a man apart anywhere but in the comfort of home,” Sugawara says.

They enter one of the buildings and cross the lobby and into the elevator. As its doors slide shut, Sugawara steps closer to Iwaizumi, trailing the tips of his fingers up and down his neck drawing another shiver. He grins, keeps touching lightly as he talks, “The rules tonight are simple. I’m in charge. You take what I give. I might grant requests but you’re gonna work for them.” Iwaizumi’s pulse rises as they climb higher, passing floor after floor, soft dings punctuating Sugawara’s speech.

The car stops, doors sliding open and Iwaizumi is already back to half hard just from the anticipation. Sugawara takes his wrist, tugging him down the hall towards the end unit and unlocks its door. He pushes it open, ushers for Iwaizumi to enter then follows him in, shutting the door behind them.

Both remove their shoes and coats, Sugawara taking Iwaizumi’s from his hand to hang up next to his own. He doesn’t bother with the lights, merely takes Iwaizumi’s wrist again and leads him down the hall, through another door clicking on a small lamp on a bedside table. His room is unsurprisingly clean, bed neatly made and meaningful memorabilia placed naturally round; a photo from his Karasuno days, trophies, his degree. Iwaizumi does a double take, unaware that in the time since he last saw him, Sugawara’s become a lawyer.

Fitting for such a smooth talker.

“So, Iwaizumi-san,” Sugawara coos, landing on the bed and crossing his legs, his eyes sharp and smile sharper, “I noticed you have a bit of a thing… for praise.”

“Pleading the fifth,” Iwaizumi says.

Sugawara chuckles, “Oh a lawyer joke, how witty you are.” His eyes grow darker, more intense and Iwaizumi swallows the sudden lump in his throat feeling it settle in his gut; “You need to be taken care of, I can see that. Seems somebody who shall remain nameless for the sake of keeping the mood up hasn’t done a very good job of it.” He looks up through those long lashes again and says lowly, “Won’t you let me take care of you?”

“I’m here aren’t I?” Iwaizumi asks.

Sugawara drops the sexy smolder and grins. Iwaizumi finds him no less attractive. “Yes, but you’re still so tense, sweet cheeks. Sex is supposed to be fun and you look like you’re waiting to see the dentist.”

That draws a huff of laughter from Iwaizumi as he flops onto the bed beside him, laying his head in his hands. Sugawara’s hand on his back is comforting and he laughs again, “Some sexy hookup, I am, huh? Shit, I should just go.” He goes to rise but Sugawara holds him back, straddling his lap impressively quick and lays a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You’re a fine piece of ass, Iwaizumi Hajime,” he murmurs, kissing down his throat, “and if you’ll still let me, I want to tear it apart.”

Iwaizumi takes in a deep shuddering breath, nods his head rapidly. Yes, he wants that, he wants this. He wants to let go entirely and let someone just take care of him because it always feels like it’s on him, that it’s his job to fix everything for everyone (one in particular) and he needs to forget about it… even if for only a couple of hours.

He falls back, allowing Sugawara to settle his full weight on him and pulls him close. Against his ear he whispers, “I’m yours to do with as you please just… make me feel good… please…”

“Mmmmm… my pleasure, darling,” Sugawara says, covering his mouth in another kiss, only this one is heavy and messy, full of tongue. He bites his bottom lips, draws a hiss from the man beneath him, gets another when he reaches between their bodies to palm at Iwaizumi’s crotch.

“Not that I don’t love having you under me, but I’d prefer seeing your gorgeous muscles in the literal flesh,” Sugawara declares, rising up and off the bed. He crooks his finger in a come hither motion and Iwaizumi rolls off the mattress to his feet, stepping back into his space.

Slowly, Sugawara undoes one button of his shirt at a time, pressing a soft kiss to each inch of firm chest as it’s revealed. “Geez, do you live at the gym or something?” Buttons done, he pushes the shirt off Iwaizumi’s broad shoulders, trailing the tips of his fingers up his arm to grasp one and then the other. “Or is bearing the weight of the world on these what makes you so strong?”

It’s cheesy, so damn cheesy, but Iwaizumi is eating this up, craving more of the superficial praise, needing it, thriving on it. “Then make me forget it,” he moans, body shivering under the light touches Sugawara gives as he walks around Iwaizumi’s body, admiring it like a piece of art. He can feel his eyes burning over him, like electrical currents humming over his skin.

Impatience floods him, his hunger growing, breeding a deep need to just be used rather than use. It’s a new sensation, one he’s not familiar with, but it’s not unwelcome; he just doesn’t know what to do. His hands clench and unclench, tension building back up in his muscles but then Sugawara places his palms on his lower back, slides his hands forward to embrace him from behind. During his short tour of Iwaizumi’s body, he removed his shirt and the press of his naked chest to Iwaizumi’s bare back is a welcome surprise drawing a sigh from the taller male.

Sugawara kisses his skin, running his hands up and down his torso, soothing as much as enticing; “Take it easy, big boy. I know you want it and you’re gonna get it, but only if you’re good. You can do that right, be good for me?”

“Ye… yes,” Iwaizumi sighs, willing his body to relax, to absorb the wholly unexpected and thoroughly welcomed affection being dealt him. Sugawara’s earlier demeanor led him to believe tonight would be about hard and fast but apparently when Sugawara takes his men apart, he does so with a decidedly gentle hand… at least for now.

“Mmmmm, I’m glad. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He practically purrs the words, still laying kisses and light sucks all over Iwaizumi’s back, never stopping the motion of his hands, going lower with each pass, grazing the top of his waistline. “Let’s get you out of these,” he says, nipping Iwaizumi’s ear making him groan.

Nodding, Iwaizumi reaches up, but his hands are swatted away. “I’ll get it, you just stand there looking gorgeous,” Sugawara says, putting action to his words, pushing the button free of its hole and tugging the zipper down.

A low sigh exits Iwaizumi’s lips as his cock, half hard but growing harder by the second, is relieved from the pressure of pressing against his jeans. With a firm yank, Sugawara pulls them and his boxer briefs down in one go, helping him to step out them before flinging them into a chair. Remaining crouched, Sugawara slides his hands over Iwaizumi’s ankles, up his calves, over the back of his muscular thighs and palms his ass.

“Fu… fuck,” Iwaizumi whispers at the feel of Sugawara’s tongue in the inner line of his cheeks. He’s teasing him, he knows this, but he can’t stop his body from chasing that hot, wet muscle, wanting nothing more than for Sugawara to bend him over and eat him out. “Ple… please…” he sounds weak in his ears, pitiful but Sugawara hums approval of his begging only making him want to do it more.

“You’re such a good boy, so polite,” he praises. A firm smack sounds in the room, Iwaizumi letting out a strangled cry at the impact of palm to ass. “Fuck, such a great ass, and these thighs…” Sugawara trails his hands around, massages the muscles of his legs.

“Suga… wara…”

“Patience, Iwaizumi, patience,” Sugawara huffs, “And keep quiet, talking takes too many brain cells, I just want you listening for now.”

He stands up, comes around to face Iwaizumi, looks him up and down again, appreciation in his gaze. His cock is fully hard, precum wetting the tip and twitching with the need to be touched, sucked, fucked, he doesn’t care he just needs something.

Sugawara reaches a hand up, trails the back of his fingers against a tanned cheek. They make an interesting pair, Iwaizumi notices in the mirror behind Sugawara; dark skin contrasting pale. “You look… so pretty like this Iwaizumi… soft and patience and wanting…” he leans up, pressing a long, slow kiss to his lips. Iwaizumi isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch him so keeps his hands at his sides, sighing in relief through his nose when Sugawara tugs them forward to wrap around his waist. He breaks the kiss long enough to say, “Take off my pants,” before he’s kissing him again.

It’s a bit awkward, but Iwaizumi manages to get his pants and underwear off without stopping their kiss, holding him close, burning skin to burning skin.

“You taste so good,” Sugawara says disconnecting their lips, planting popping wet kisses down Iwaizumi’s chest, flicking out his tongue every now and again to taste salt sweat skin. “But I want you to work a little harder, can you do that? Are you ready to earn your reward like a good boy?”

Iwaizumi nods eagerly, the want to please becoming stronger. He’s never been like this before, never been in a headspace of complete submission to someone else’s will, always believing whenever he’d even consider it that it would take brute force, but Sugawara’s melting him like ice cream in the noonday sun with his silver tongue.

“Good, so good,” Sugawara murmurs. “Then, get on your knees, I wanna put that pretty mouth to good use for a while.”

Hurriedly he complies, kneeling before Sugawara’s firm cock. It’s narrow but not too thin, a good length and perfectly trimmed. His mouth waters looking at it, he can’t wait to taste it, to make him feel good.

“Take it in slowly, I like a lot of tongue before face fucking, so wet it up good,” Sugawara says, his voice gentle but his order firm. “And only use your mouth, no touching me yet, understand?”

Another nod and then Iwaizumi sticks out his tongue, licks his cock from base to tip and teases the slit.

Sugawara sighs, tilting his head back and runs a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair. The latter closes his eyes, sucks the tip again then slowly pushes forward until he’s taken him full hilt. He pulls back slowly, making sure to keep the flat of his tongue pressed against the underside of Sugawara’s dick. “So… so good… ah!”

He picks up the pace a little, sliding up and down, up and down, drawing longer and louder moans from Sugawara. He goes long enough that his thighs begin to ache, his knees gaining rug burn but Sugawara’s sounds of pleasure are a new aphrodisiac for him, he can’t get enough, wants to give him more and more and more.

Sugawara smooths a palm over the top of his head, mouth open, drawing fast breaths as Iwaizumi sucks him harder. “Look at me, baby,” he rasps. Iwaizumi feels his cock twitch, not used to such tender names applied to him. He opens his eyes, feels tears slip down aching cheeks.

Sugawara inhales a sharp breath, breathes out, “You’re such a good boy, such a good, handsome, wrecked boy, aren’t you?”

Iwaizumi nods despite his mouth full of cock, closes his eyes to focus and pushes down again, taking Sugawara all the way to the hilt making him curse. His fingernails rake over Iwaizumi’s scalp making him moan, the vibrations traveling down Sugawara’s dick and he bucks, the tip grazing Iwaizumi’s throat. He almost gags but holds it in, keeps bobbing his head.

His hands twitch, eager to touch but he has to be a good boy, so he keeps them clasped behind him, knelt before Sugawara.

“Fuck… it’s so… good… Iwaizumi. So good, you take my cock so, so good baby boy.”

Iwaizumi groans again, his sucks and slurps loud in his ears but he loves it more than he thought he would. He’s given head—really good head— but there’s something about this, something about Sugawara that’s making it differ from all those other times.

Sugawara sighs, pulls out and away; “You did so good, I think it’s time for a reward.” He bends at the waist, cups Iwaizumi’s face and kisses him, long, slow and deep. Iwaizumi wants to get up but he doesn’t without permission, just stays as is knelt on the ground letting Sugawara’s tongue invade his mouth, licking the roof then sucking his own tongue.

They part with a pop and Sugawara pants, “Get on the bed, hands and knees.”

Iwaizumi nods, moves to stand but stumbles, unaware that one of his legs has fallen asleep. Sugawara catches him, coos apologies for keeping him in the same position for too long; “You just give such great head and look so fucking good on your knees I lost track of time,” he says apologetically; “On second thought, lie on your back, give your knees a break.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi says, falling heavily onto the mattress. He lets out a long breath but draws it back sharp when Sugawara’s tongue licks the tip of his cock. He looks down, dark eyes meeting light. Sugawara smiles, noses against his balls then mouths over them, taking his time.

Iwaizumi’s head falls back against the pillows as Sugawara licks him from base to tip, swirls around his slit then back down again, detouring to suck one ball then the other entirely in his mouth.

“Shit that… damn it, that feels so good,” Iwaizumi moans.

Sugawara hums, coils the fingers of one hand around the base of Iwaizumi’s cock and gives a squeeze making him buck up.

“Suck me,” Iwaizumi says.

Sugawara gives him a look, leans up to his knees and crosses his arms; “You’ve been such a good boy, Iwaizumi-san, don’t ruin it now.”

Iwaizumi frowns, but nods, waits in silence for Sugawara to continue his ministrations; he never realized there are different levels of control or different ways to be boss. He’s just always been dominant, demanding, tough—he’s done what’s expected of him.

Sugawara doesn’t, he bucks conventional process and does things his way; which is so hot.

“I think you’re ready for some more,” Sugawara says, hand sliding up from his ankle to his thigh; “Hands and knees, now.”

His authority does something for Iwaizumi he never expected, blooming something hot and heavy and wanting in his gut. It’s always himself who calls the shots, leads the way, cleans up the mess and has to be strong.

He’s surprised to find he likes being told—ordered—what to do.

His knees most definitely have carpet burn but he doesn’t care, getting into position, ass slightly higher, waiting for Sugawara. He feels his balls tighten, anticipation building. The first smack makes him grunt in surprise.

“Your ass is so sweet baby, but I’m gonna wreck it.”

The press of lips, a nip of teeth, hands roaming over flesh, heating him. Sugawara spreads his cheeks and licks his hole.

“Damn it! Fuck!” Iwaizumi curses through clenched teeth, fisting the sheets.

Sugawara pushes his tongue deep, smacking his cheek every few seconds drawing grunts and growls. His hand reaches between Iwaizumi’s legs, squeezing his cock as his tongue roams over and in his ass.

Iwaizumi lets slip a strangled cry, high pitched and so needy it makes him blush.

Sugawara is delighted; “That’s it! That’s what I want to hear! Let go, Iwaizumi, be the needy bitch, whine for me, cry!”

He spanks him again, harder this time and Iwaizumi can’t hold back the gasp, sucks in air and chokes out, “Oh god, Sugawara!”

Another smack, another cry, Sugawara fists his hand in Iwaizumi’s hair and tugs, latches his teeth to unmarked flesh and bites, hard. Iwaizumi can feel his cock, hard and long, pressed against his ass and chases it like a needy bitch but Sugawara isn’t having it; “Not until you beg, beg for my cock, let me hear how much you wanna get fucked .” He’s almost snarling, nips his ear then spanks him again.

He’s not going to be able to walk let alone sit for a few days.

“Pl… please… Sugawara. Please fuck me,” Iwaizumi grunts.

“More, convince me you want it.”

Iwaizumi groans, frustration and want burning in his chest. His nails dig into the fabric beneath him, he’s sure he’ll tear it soon.

Sugawara plays dirty, slides his cock between Iwaizumi’s cheeks; “It’s right there, waiting, weeping, hot and hard and ready. All you have to do is—“

“I need your cock, please, rail me! Fuck me into the damn mattress, please!”

Sugawara moans in his ear, shifts slightly to line up and pushes in slowly. The stretch burns but it’s not bad. He’s long more than thick, smooth as butter and hot.

“Oh fuck! Yes! Yes, please more, fuck me!”

“Don’t overdo it,” Sugawara chuckles.

“I’m not! I really… fuck, I,” Iwaizumi looks over his shoulder, feels tears pricking the rims of his eyes, “I need you to fuck me.”

However he looks like right now, it does something for Sugawara because his eyes darken and he bites his lip. “Ok, baby, ok. Brace yourself,” he warns.

Iwaizumi turns back, barely has time to prepare before Sugawara withdraws only to slam back in, forcing all the breath from his lungs out in a mangled cry.

“God… so tight… so good, baby, so… fucking.. good!”

Sugawara pistons into him, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room. Iwaizumi lets go— of the pain, the frustration, the anger—he cries out, begs, whines even. It feels so good, his cock weeping onto the sheets, his balls swinging on each impact, Sugawara grunting in his ear, calling him “good boy”.

“I… please… let me come,” he begs.

“Say my name.”

“Huh?“

“I’m balls deep in you, and you won’t say my name?”

Iwaizumi swallows. “Please let me come… Koushi.”

A satisfied sigh then Sugawara is fucking him again. He braces one hand to the bed, wraps the other back around Iwaizumi’s cock and strokes, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Iwaizumi feels the familiar coil in his stomach, bites his lower lip and holds his breath.

“Come for me, Hajime .”

“Koushi! Fuck, fuck!”

Iwaizumi explodes, coating Sugawara’s hand and the sheets with come. He comes and comes and comes, shaking violently, struggling for breath. Dimly he becomes aware of a sticky feeling on his back, Sugawara having pulled out before letting loose his own release.

Iwaizumi collapses, face pressing against the mattress. He needs a shower but moving right now is out of the question. Sugawara’s breath is rapid but he has strength enough to stand and grab a towel because Iwaizumi feels terry cloth against his skin as he wipes off the cum from his back.

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi mumbles into the sheets, loathe to move but figuring they’re not going to want to sleep on cum stained sheets.

“Here, let me help you,” Sugawara says, rolling him to his back, his side and then off the bed, guiding him to a chair. “I’m gonna change the bedding real quick and then we’ll sleep, ok?”

Iwaizumi hesitates, eyes on the ground. “You… you want me to stay the night?”

Sugawara tilts his head up and presses a kiss to his forehead. The gesture is so gentle, so soft compared to what they just finished doing and Iwaizumi is unprepared for the wealth of warm that blooms in his chest from such a small act of affection. “I won’t be offended if you don’t want to, but personally, I like cuddles.”

“I… yeah… I’d like that,” Iwaizumi admits through a yawn.

Sugawara nods. “Ok then, let me get this done.”

But Iwaizumi insists on helping, gathering the soiled bedding and handing it to Sugawara when he returns with the fresh set. Together they make the bed and the scene is so damn domestic Iwaizumi almost laughs. Before long he finds himself snuggled onto Sugawara’s chest, another new position for him, his fingers trailing through his hair. “Go to sleep, Hajime, we’ll go out to breakfast in the morning if you like.”

Iwaizumi hums agreement, unable to keep his eyes open and falls into blissful slumber, glad he decided on that bar tonight.

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 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.”