ranger danger // pollen fest!!!

ranger danger // pollen fest!!!



skts nsfw // bottomi / cruising / semi-public sex this park is pretty quiet on tuesday nights; that's why kiyoomi gags himself, the straps hidden below his mask and in his messy curls, as he heads down a familiar path. he needs to make sure it stays quiet, after all.

his pace is slow but sure. there's a little copse tucked away in this park on the edge of town; only the moonlight reaches it, and that's enough for him. he doesn't see anyone else. some nights, people don't come, but that's fine. part of what he likes is the anticipation.

the fact that another man might find him out here doesn't matter. but the waiting? kiyoomi's hands pressed up against tree bark, legs spread, plug sitting warm in his ass, with every breeze raising the hairs on his neck? it's delicious. it's killer.

he's not sure how long he waits, this time. he slipped a blindfold on when he reached the familiar tree, and his mind's been drifting, a little hazy. every sound is amplified: the cicadas, distant roar of cars, soft rush of a narrow stream. he might fall asleep like this.

scent, too; pollen in the air, grass and bark and dirt. his own soft musk. and then the rough touch of bark below his callused fingertips, the plug firm against his walls. cock leaking in his briefs from even that scant touch, he's so sensitive, and drool drips down his chin.

kiyoomi's about to give up and call it for the night - the breeze is too cool, maybe, or the chance of rain too high - when he hears it, louder than thunder. footsteps on gravel then grass, soft like the stranger is trying to be quiet, but resonant in kiyoomi's ears.

he tenses up against the tree, flexes his muscles. hopes the stranger likes what he sees. knows that it doesn't matter, in the end, because they're both here for the risk. the footsteps stop, and he imagines it. the stranger, taking in kiyoomi in the moonlight.

hair that nearly blends in with the darkness, pale skin that glows. he's got on a dark tank top and sweatpants, tight enough to cup his ass and reveal the end of the plug. he likes it this way; thinks his moles look like constellations in the night.

and then - the rising scent of jasmine, warm heat against his back and a hand on his hip, thumb rubbing into his skin - the stranger steps close to him, and kiyoomi can relax. there aren't many things two perfect strangers can get up to in a park alone at night, after all.

"well then," the stranger breathes out against kiyoomi's neck, sending shivers down his spine, "ain't you a treat?" his voice shoots right to kiyoomi's cock, vaguely familiar in the way all things are in the darkness, when we try to latch onto what we know.

kiyoomi stays silent as his hands start to trace their way up and down his body. the touch feels disconnected; he focuses on the sensations. strong fingertips digging into his waist, coming up to draw a line under his chest. the full weight of a palm against his abs.

fingers ghosting along his cock, hard and heavy and waiting in his sweats, and then the same hand stalling over the plug, before the palm wraps around his waist and the stranger steps closer. "oh? is that what ya want, sweet thing?" and the warmth against his back magnifies.

it's electric, the sensation, a thick torso and arms as strong as his stepping between his spread legs. a thick thigh between his own. in the darkness, he nods, and he feels the other man hesitate. but then - a hand comes up to his hair, just over the strap of the gag.

"oh!" he breathes out, and kiyoomi relaxes, and the hand feels the tie of the blindfold now. he's made his request as obvious as possible, and he thinks this stranger will take the bait. no man could be that dumb, after all, to resist the pliant and willing stretch of kiyoomi.

"thank you," the stranger says, fervently, and it sounds so earnest kiyoomi almost laughs, "for givin' me such a treat." he squeezes one of his ass cheeks, and kiyoomi almost chokes around the gag. a pause, a shuffle, and a hand covered in a sleeve reaches up to wipe the drool.

kindness, even if it makes the other man /messy./ kiyoomi almost respects it. "i'll take good care of ya," he says, even though that's not want kiyoomi needs. "let's see what we're working with." his voice is barely a whisper now, but it pounds in kiyoomi's ears.

his sweats and briefs come down, revealing his ass and dark, subtle plug to the whole evening. the chill breeze makes him ache, and so does the stranger's gasp of delight. "beautiful," he says, pressing against the plug, "you're gorgeous, you know that?"

maybe kiyoomi blushes. no one will know. he wiggles his hips as if to say 'get on with it' and the man laughs. "alright, alright. i won't keep ya waiting long." a little scuffle and thud and the warmth against his back disappears. he wonders where the stranger went.

"hold on tight," he says, before the plug in his ass twists and pulls out, slowly, slowly, slowly, and kiyoomi hisses around the gag, abs tensing. "gorgeous," about his dark rim stretched around the breadth of the plug, or lube dripping like dew down his ass, maybe.

he plays with it a little more, getting kiyoomi used to the sensation again, pushing it in and out and twisting it, adding more lube that drips down his thighs and makes a mess of his underwear. it's so wet, the glide almost feels like nothing.

kiyoomi breathes along with the pace, letting this stranger control more than he's letting on. the motion stops. "none of that," he says, huffing. "deep breaths, sweetness." maybe he's more obvious than he's led himself to believe. it's fine. he listens, and the stranger coos.

"good boy," and the praise makes him shiver, "let me give ya a reward." kiyoomi wonders what it could be, and then he has to suppress a whine when the plug is removed from him, leaving him empty and aching and bare. "you'll like this, I promise," breath warm against his hole.

and those broad, strong hands both rest firmly on his ass as he spreads his cheeks apart, and- "itadakimasu!" he whispers, so kiyoomi laughs when his tongue kisses his rim, and he's not shocked or surprised or terrified, at all.

the stranger eats his ass like a starving man, kissing his cheeks like they're a blessing and circling his hole over and over while kiyoomi tightens his fists against the tree, bears down onto the grass to stay upright.

he's got a big mouth and a long tongue, and the sloppy wet sounds echo through the night with a lewdness unmatched by anything kiyoomi's ever heard before. sucking with his soft lips, the touch gentle even while his fingers dig bruises into his ass, hunger and desire burning.

if kiyoomi weren't gagged he'd shriek when the tongue plunges into him; he drops his head, nearly falls forward into the tree. one of the hands lets go of his ass to come around and hold him steady, and push kiyoomi's ass deeper against this man.

it brushes against his cock too, bare and naked now, and leaking, making kiyoomi grind, desperate and needy for sensation. and /that/ makes the stranger moan into his ass, vibrations rocking through his body like an echo. "yeah, just like that, baby," coming up for air.

so kiyoomi wiggles and grinds his ass down onto the strangers face, tongue curling inside of him in ways that /feel/ impossible, and if this is what keeps the two of them quiet, so be it. it's got him panting, how close this stranger's got him to the edge, how much he wants to-

"aah," the stranger breathes out, pulling back, both hands leaving his body, "knew you'd taste sweet. right from the minute I saw ya, pale as sugar in the night." kiyoomi collapses down to his knees, twitching, leaking, wet everywhere, so fucking close.

a warm hand comes up to rub his thigh, his sides, his abs, reaching down to his cock. a body above him, warm and heavy and thick. wet breath on his neck, a kiss pressed to the tip of his spine. "let me help you with that, c'mon, let me take care of you."

the hand engulfs him, and then he engulfs /something/. fingers, thick and wet, pressing at the same spots the tongue just worshipped, but they reach deeper. the sensation is different.

on his hands and knees, he thrusts down into the hand and back against the fingers, back and forth and back and forth, mind chasing the sensation of pleasure. it's the only thing he needs now, the only thing he wants: to come. doesn't know how mindless he gets.

feels like a wild animal, frantic and scrambling for pleasure. the grip is too loose, the fingers not wide enough, and he could cry, he /might/ cry if he doesn't fucking- suddenly he can't move anymore. can't grind forward because the stranger's holding him at the base.

can't move back because the thick fingers are buried as deep as they'll go. he's /pinned./ trapped. ensnared. doesn't get why. "are you gonna let me take care of you now?" he says, a little jovial, a little disappointed.

"do ya not trust me to make ya feel good? is that it?" kiyoomi shakes his head. "pretty little thing like you, of course i'd treat ya right. just as sweet as you need, as you deserve." his hips tighten. "just trust me, alright? i can take ya there."

kiyoomi hesitates, then nods, and there's a kiss on his spine. "alright, sweetheart," all these pet names will go to his head, "thank you for giving me a chance to make you feel good." and the thanking! no one's ever thanked him for being needy and desperate.

no one thanks him for wanting to be fucked so bad he comes out to a park to get his ass filled by a stranger, a pump and run, leaving him to fuck his fist alone to kill his orgasm before he leaves the park, trying not to get caught.

but this guy, leaving kisses on any part of his neck and back and shoulders that are visible - and, no, he's kissing his /moles/, that's what kiyoomi realizes - seems to cherish him a little bit. a jewel in the night, the both of them.

he tightens his grip around kiyoomi and spreads his fingers wide, and that's when it starts. an onslaught of attention and care, so overwhelming. he can tell the minute difference between kiyoomi tensing in pleasure or pain and adjusts accordingly.

curves his middle finger the way kiyoomi likes to spread himself wider, deep in his ass. twists his wrist in the juttery, random, jerks that are guaranteed to rocket him to orgasm.

sucks a hickey into his skin while being so warm and conscientious and sweet that Kiyoomi can't even remember to be annoyed, knowing he'll have to explain it away at practice tomorrow. and then, eventually, like lighting it cracks through him.

pleasure coursing through his thighs and chest and neck and spine as he comes in stuttery jerks into this strangers waiting, clasped hand, before he collapses into the ground, dewy and wet and sated.

he's never been fucked like this, he realizes, as his mind starts to come around while the stranger must be cleaning up a little around him. wants to feel it; a cock in his ass while he's overstimulated, fucking him like a ragdoll into the dirt.

he trusts this man - made up of fingers and sounds and jasmine and warmth - to make it feel good to him. he tries to speak but it comes out muffled against the gag, and the hand pets his face. wiggles his hips, or tries to at least, but he's so wrung out.

and then the hands wrap around him again, lifting him up, touching him and he sighs into the embrace. and then they spread his cheeks wide. this is it, this is it, but instead of a warm and burning cock he's greeted by the cool touch of the plug, wet with lube.

it nearly stings as it goes in and his ass sucks it in, the base sitting neatly between his cheeks, just like how he'd started. and the pants come up, too "thank you so much for letting me have the honor of taking care of you," and no, why does this sound like the end?

"i didn't know what I'd find out here tonight, but it sure wasn't someone as sweet as you." a kiss to his neck again, and a final hand through his hair, before the stranger rises. it /is/ a goodbye. that's why.

"it's gonna rain soon," he explains. "you should probably get home too, alright?" then footsteps, then nothing but the sounds of the night. once he's gone, kiyoomi rips off his masks and the gag, and scrambles to find something in the dirt. anything he left behind.

a scrap, just to remember. but there's nothing. just the memory of a warm tough, jasmine in the night, footsteps like thunder and an orgasm like lightning. the first drops of a hesitant drizzle fall on his shoulders, and he sighs. he should leave.

when he gets back to the MSBY sharehouse, he's soaked by the sudden downpour. he needs a shower, and a bath, and to commit this evening to memory. but when he opens the door - "oh! omi! you need a towel, too!" and he's shoved to their couches, across from atsumu, also damp.

"hey omi," he says sheepishly, sneezing. "you got caught in the rain too, huh?" and maybe- just maybe- things are familiar in the night because we recognize them. (fin)

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