Lynd ☾⋆。˚ C☻mms Open!

Lynd ☾⋆。˚ C☻mms Open!



#SakuAtsu 🔞 | reflections | rated E (#HaikyuuKinktober2022) Day 04: Mirror Sex Cw: bottomi (implied switch!skts), cum-eating, dirty-talk/praise, body-worship ________________________ Kiyoomi has never given much thought to the way he looks under Atsumu’s expert hands.

He's not self-conscious about the noises he makes, or giving in to pleasure. Atsumu has never given him reason to, loose as he is with his tongue stroking along Kiyoomi’s shaft, mouth overflowing with praise. “Fuck, baby,” he’d say,

once he's strained his jaw trying to swallow Kiyoomi’s cock. “Yer so perfect for me, love it when ya feel so good.” “Shit, shit, shit, yer so hot, love having ya on top of me,” Atsumu would say when Kiyoomi pounds him into the mattress, his jaw going slack with pleasure.

“If only you could see yerself, Omi,” Atsumu would groan as he works Kiyoomi open on three of his fingers. “All spread out for me. Made for my cock.” Kiyoomi knows. Atsumu hasn’t made a secret of it. However, he hadn’t expected for Atsumu to… well, try and prove it.

The body length mirror Atsumu purchased just two days ago now lays in front of their bed, its varnished, golden frame gleaming in the lamplight. Kiyoomi touches it unsurely, watching his uncertain expression studying him back. Atsumu steps in behind him,

hands lovingly shaping around the dips of his body. “Nervous?” He murmurs, kissing the juncture of Kiyoomi’s neck. Golden eyes peer at him through the mirror, liquid and desirous as his hands drag over Kiyoomi’s stomach, teasing his shirt up a few inches. “God Omi, look at ya.”

“I am,” Kiyoomi whispers, eyes tracking Atsumu’s hands on his body. They look and feel strong, thick fingers dragging over his abs, big palms warm and calloused. “You want me to watch.” “Fuck yeah, I do,” Atsumu rasps, nuzzling his nape.

“Need ya ta understand how wild you drive me, Omi.” A blush spreads over his face—Kiyoomi gets to see it in real time, the way Atsumu’s words summon heat to his cheeks. He feels at once untethered and grounded in his body, drifting somewhere hazy,

but chained here by the arms cradling the taper of his waist. Atsumu’s hands seek the buttons of his maroon dress-shirt, fiddling slowly with them, popping each one open with ease. He does so unhurriedly, eyes drinking in the sight of unveiled pale skin. “So pretty,”

he whispers, voice gone breathy as he skims his fingers down the divot of Kiyoomi’s chest, calluses catching on every ridge of hard abs on their way down. He gives Kiyoomi’s half-hard cock a teasing stroke through his dark slacks before going for the zipper.

Atsumu doesn’t fully undress him. Instead, he dips his hand in Kiyoomi’s boxer shorts and pulls out his cock until it stands obscenely amidst covered skin. He gives it another playful stroke, circling the head with his thumb. Kiyoomi latches onto his lean forearms,

breathing deeply as Atsumu returns to roaming his body, hands sliding over his thighs, and across his chest to palm his pecs. “Look at it,” he whispers in Kiyoomi’s ear, sending a shiver darting down his spine.

Honey eyes fall to where Kiyoomi’s cock twitches when Atsumu plucks at his nipples. The sight is mesmerising, more so when Atsumu’s fist curls around him. “Always so needy for my touch,” Atsumu hums, jerking him slowly. It’s the sweetest relief,

yet the most maddening thing he could’ve done. Kiyoomi’s hips buck into it helplessly, enjoying the dry, limited fiction more than he’d anticipated. Enjoying the way his own body rippled gracefully as it chased Atsumu’s touch. “Yer a wet dream,”

Atsumu praises with a heated groan buried in Kiyoomi’s shoulder. “Keep fucking my hand just like that.” Kiyoomi feels dizzy with it, the way his cock slides between the tight ring of his fingers, the head flushed a sweet pink. Wetness beads at the tip,

and Atsumu dutifully spreads it in a small circle using his fingertip. In a trance, Kiyoomi’s hand joins, swiping at the sticky wetness clinging to his slit. He meets Atsumu’s hazy eyes in the mirror as he prods at Atsumu’s lips with his fingers.

They part greedily to sample Kiyoomi’s musk, humming sensually around his digits. His knees go weak watching him. He looks so good, Kiyoomi is delirious with it. “Touch me more,” he pleads, hips twitching into the empty air, searching for much-needed friction.

Atsumu walks them back slowly, a few steps, until he's next to the bed, touch guiding and reverent. When he sits down, he pulls Kiyoomi with him to occupy the space between his spread thighs.

Kiyoomi watches their reflection in the mirror and the way Atsumu seems to take a moment to appreciate the sight they make, his hands running slowly down Kiyoomi’s torso. “I could look at ya forever, Omi,” Atsumu whispers, nipping at his neck. “An’ never get tired of it.”

The flush burns hotter in his cheeks, refusing to be tamped down. Kiyoomi feels more naked than ever, put on display like that, but a part of him has gone hazy with desire at the way Atsumu seems to get off to it. Kiyoomi can feel him against his ass,

a hard prod from his swollen erection. He grinds back against it with a soft huff, eyes squeezing shut with want. Atsumu takes mercy on him, fisting the base of his cock once more. This time, touching Kiyoomi with more intent. He jerks his wrist in small,

hard strokes that steal Kiyoomi’s breath. “God, shit,” he whispers, straining into it. He wants more, anything Atsumu is willing to give him. He wants more of that fiery gaze mapping his skin, like Atsumu is wishing he could devour him with his eyes alone.

He wants more of his pinched expressions, lips caught between his teeth. More of Atsumu’s mouth on his skin, more of his scorching touch reducing Kiyoomi’s to something liquid and yielding. Before he knows it, his hips are rolling sensually into the motion,

slowly fucking Atsumu’s hand while Atsumu raptly drinks in the sight of it. Kiyoomi has to admit they make a pretty picture, big tanned hands touching his pale skin, his abs rippling with every thrust. It looks like he's made to be displayed just like this, just for Atsumu.

Using his free hand, Atsumu starts slipping his shirt down his shoulders, baring more of Kiyoomi’s lean muscles. Atsumu’s mouth attaches to the edge of his shoulder, peppering warm kisses. “Just like that,” he murmurs over and over, cupping Kiyoomi’s balls,

and teasing the head with feathery touches. “I want ya to cum all over this pretty mirror, Omi.” Kiyoomi groans, grinding harder against Atsumu’s erection. The heat coiling in his gut gives when Atsumu’s warm tongue circles the juncture of his neck.

Kiyoomi keens as his abdominals shudder and he bucks hard into Atsumu’s touch one last time. Atsumu hisses a pleased noise, jerking him messily as he spurts all over the mirror, thick ribbons of cum running wetly on the otherwise pristine glass. Kiyoomi loses his breath,

thoughts going murky as Atsumu works him through it until he wrings him dry. And once he's spent, his pliant body yields to Atsumu’s guiding touch, folding at the knees to crouch before the mirror. A fist twists in his curls, pressing his face to the glass. Next to him,

Atsumu’s face looms close, breaths fogging their reflection as he murmurs, “Clean it.” Kiyoomi shivers, tongue rolling out to collect the streaks of cum dripping down their mirror. His body burns with humiliation and desire, with Atsumu’s gaze.

And just as soon, he's yanked aside to meet Atsumu’s eager mouth in a kiss that makes his toes curl. Atsumu’s tongue prods past his lips, tasting Kiyoomi all over. “Good boy,” Atsumu purrs. “Now turn around.” Kiyoomi turns on wobbly knees and is met with his flushed reflection,

and Atsumu’s lips ghosting along his ear. “I’m going to fuck you so good baby,” Atsumu promises. He can’t fucking wait.

// originally I was going to write something longer for AO3 but I got too sick so I decided to turn this into a fic a thread 🥲 Virtual Tip Jar 🫙✨

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