「 untold feelings 」━━━ sakuatsu

─ seven

Loud moans echoed through the walls of the bathroom like a lewd symphony.

"Ah, sweetheart— your hole feels so fucking good."

Atsumu had ended up, once more, trapped in between Sakusa's lethal thorns, and the lingering threat of a retribution for his deliberate provocations hanging upon his neck like a vengeful blade. But this time he had gone too far, like a lot of times, and saying that he hadn't really wanted this would be a lie.

Wrists pinned above his head, Atsumu parted his lips and panted like a bitch in heat for his partner's cock as the latter picked up his pace. Sakusa was stone cold, pummeling his insides cruelly, ignoring the screams that rang through his ears like the laughter of the devil, taunting and obnoxious — saying subtly go on, harder, make me feel it. There was that mischievous thing about Atsumu ; he liked it wild, and had always known how to make everyone dance to his tune even when he didn't seem to be in a strong position. Sakusa was inflamed, blood boiling underneath his skin, focused on his ministrations as the obscene squelching sound coming from Atsumu's tight hole reminded the both of them of how sinful men could be.

The one in control is me, Miya. Never, ever forget that.

"You're fucking enjoying this, aren't you?" Sakusa leaned onto his ear and murmured, a little mean thanks to the wrath that had him seized by the throat. His voice was cold, unwavering, hardly above a whisper. Calculated bleakness was placed in each of his demeaning profanities and motions, like he was giving his submissive's quivering body feathery kisses rather than wrecking his insides mechanically. "You do like it when I'm fucking hard into you, sweetheart?"

"OMI, I THINK— OH GOD, I'M ALMOST!" Atsumu cried out, blissful. Tears beaded in his honey eyes. He was glad he was facing the wall, so Sakusa wouldn't notice the look on his face as he was being roughly fucked from behind. Still, the trembling in his voice was quite the betrayal.

"Going to come already?" asked Sakusa, laughing a little. Clear and vicious, his low chuckling was a deep and beautiful contrast to Atsumu's cocky moans. The ravenette sucked in a harsh breath. "Such a little cockwhore."

His slender fingers ran through light blond locks of dyed hair and yanked them, remorseless, twisting his partner's neck as he fastened his pace. Atsumu stared at the ceiling with dilated pupils, or perhaps it was the thick steam of the shower stall. He didn't really know anymore. He didn't really know any thing besides Sakusa's name. He rested his elbows against the tiled wall, back nearly contorted in a graceful curve in order to meet Sakusa's frenzied thrusts, exposing the bruises of his bare ass in a position that was perfectly degrading.

"Fuck, sweetheart," the younger man groaned. "Who taught you to be such a slut?"

One, two, three hard smacks stung his soft flesh. Stinging pain and humiliation inflamed his underskin, leaving his pale ass cheeks burnt and marked, crushing the little dignity he had left into pieces under the weight of each new hit. Sakusa expected him to struggle, scream, or cry, but Atsumu just took it, and that somehow was the lewdest thing about him. Without flinching, brows knitted together in a delicious expression of pain, he bore the hard tingling of shame that seeped through his veins like sweetly searing venom. Sakusa had broken him, in need to satisfy his bestial desires, or perhaps to see how far he could push the poor man's boundaries. Atsumu was merely an idiot, after all, nay the most foolish man on earth who had made a deal with a crossroads devil. Chills formed at the base of Sakusa's spine.

He was nothing near over.

Disappointed in the lack of reaction from the other man, Sakusa growled through gritted teeth, wrath causing him to hit Atsumu a little harder than he'd meant to.

"Come on, Miya, scream," he snarled, smacking him repeatedly. "There's no point in trying to hide from me. Unless you want so bad to confirm that I'm fucking right."

Atsumu's mouth hung open, wet lips shaping around words that won't come.

It was mortifying how much he liked it.

"Exactly what I'd expect," Sakusa growled. "A born masochistic slut. Lucky me, don't you agree?"

Perhaps he was right. Atsumu was so fucking obscene, so fucking desperate. He howled, gathering strength he didn't know he had left in repressing his forbidden climax, adamant not to give Sakusa this. He shook his head in disagreement, feeling like he was being torn apart, yet trapped in his own body, fighting against his very own envelope, weak and stupid from the endorphins. The other man shoved his length in and out of his obscenely reddened hole repeatedly, face, voice, and actions not reflecting a mere hint of pleasure. Sakusa was a coldblooded monster, a tyrannical king — the perfect Nero; watching his prey wither to ashes and into nothingness.

"I bet you would fucking love it if someone caught us right now," the ravenette murmured bitterly, sliding two fingers inside his mouth. Atsumu choked, no longer able to tell the difference between the pleasure and the pain, taking everything Sakusa would give him like the good boy he wanted him to be. "You would fucking love for the whole team to know how much of a whore you are for my cock, wouldn't you?"

"OMI, FUCK, FUCK—" he gagged around his digits, fingertips hitting the back of his throat. "I'M COMING!"

Atsumu parted his lips in a shameless scream of ecstasy, cheeks tingling with heat, writhing in pleasure as spurts of creamy cum painted his marked chest white, up to his neck. Sakusa yanked his hair back, forcing their eyes to meet as he came down from his high. Was that how Atsumu was going out? Trapped in between Sakusa's strong arms, stuck for eternity?

"You should be thankful I let you cum, you fucking cockslut."

A wave of humiliation seared the back of his eyes as his senses got a bit more clear, now conscious of the show he'd just put on, of what Sakusa had done to him, a couple of sobs slipping past red-bitten lips as the other man dug his nails into the sides of his neck. Atsumu's breath hitched. He never cried during sex, nor did he usually come so hard.

Exactly what I'd expect.

He felt wrecked and defamed, yet through wide open wounds something passionate still burned and raged within the depths of him, unspoken fantasies Sakusa might have seen through already.

A born masochistic slut.

Maybe he actually liked it.

"On your knees, Miya," Sakusa said with a sharp tug at his hair, switching places. "You're rewarding me."

Atsumu didn't have any more time to think, nor to catch his breath as he complied for dear life. The other man gazed into Atsumu's gleaming pupils, shining with lust and tears. Sakusa applied a gentle pressure — his thumb — to his lower lip, guiding his fully hardened cock towards his wide open mouth. Atsumu looked up at him like he was having a religious experience, perhaps just eager to make it good for Sakusa, as he then spoke, sharp, seductive and cruel.

"Suck it."