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tepidblood · 10 years

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Self-Prompt: Knuckle Nips

He needed to file his teeth.

His teeth felt sharp against his skin, the flesh caught in his mouth dimpling and paling as he bit down upon the back of his fingers. Filing his teeth wasn’t uncommon now, not after his Hollow had infested his soul. The creature had a peculiar way of presenting itself in his body, from heightened sensitivity to stimuli, and the way fangs seemed to grow perpetually out of his gums. His teeth were sharp enough to bite clean through skin now, with ease at that! He would dull them to ensure safety, which is something he partially lacks in this moment. He can taste a minute amount of blood on his tongue, which only enflames the passionate haze that rubs and coats his mind like layers of velvet. The Hollow was offering a steady trill in the back of his mind, rumbling in time to the pleased hum that Kinshara was whispering into his ear. The noises were almost enough to drown out the sounds that were actually around him, like the sound of Division members filing past his office as they went about their business, the birds twittering outside the open window, the creaking of the chair he was currently sat upon, and even the sound of Izuru sucking and relaxing his gag reflex down on his cock.

He needed to be quiet, those were the only rules of this game. A locked office door meant nothing to a concerned Officer, something he would normally feel blessed for, if not in a situation quite like this. His Division members were all quite wonderful in his eyes, beautiful beasts of endless inspiration, but he would rather they not find him like this. He would rather not see how much influence his Muse has upon him, at least in this moment. The light welts from blunt nails scratching down his thighs barely burned now as Izuru’s nose was grazing some of his pubic hair, though he was still a distance away from fully deep throating. He had all the time in the world though (he can watch Izuru check the clock every once in a while, he had a meeting in an hour), especially with his thumbs hooked gently into one of the many lines of the Captain’s Shibari harness.

What had been a mere proposition of such attire had grown into hidden pleasure, the cotton ropes that crisscrossed his skin barely rubbing as he had gone about his day, his uniform hiding the red lines that ensnared his form. Izuru had worn such a harness for him once, enduring a day of cotton clinging to his frame and the knots rubbing soothing circles into his chest and back, and Rose had adored it. The lines left behind the ropes had been stroked and kissed well into the night and it was with hope of similar result that he had wound the same ropes around his form. A few chaste kisses and a demure slip of his kosode had had an effect on his Lieutenant, but not quite the one he had expected. The door had been locked and the ropes hidden in the back of the left bottom drawer of his desk had been pulled out. “Don’t make a sound.” Those had been his only instructions as his hands had been bound, pulled into a position to pray for forgiveness for his Muse’s assumed ire and tethered to his chest. He would cover his mouth with his hand, but he could barely reach his fingers with his lips, even with his chin pressed against his sternum; even with his head tilted down to watch his Muse toy with his body and his heart.

Izuru was warming his throat up, meaning he was sliding further and further down Rose’s cock. The sensation was as lovely as it ever was, meaning he would probably come the moment Izuru could bury his face right up against his pubic bone, the mental image of such triumph making his cock flex in his Muse’s steady hold. Mercy, that was the word he would need to speak to make this end; to make the cradling arms of his lover envelop him and release him from this torture. What a powerful word, five letters and two syllables and it could end this. The chair squeaked as he flexed his hips forward towards his Muse’s retreating mouth and he bit on his finger harder; he smothered his moan in blood.

His cock was wet from spit, which meant that the moment a mouth was not wrapped around it he felt a distinct chill. He also felt a breeze, the only warning before the pads of the slighter blond’s fingers strike the glans of his cock. He makes no true noise, only the sharp exhale of surprise leaving his lips and crushing his lungs. Violet eyes widen, his head threatening to lurch back in response, but the grip of his teeth on his fingers prevented that. It held him there, head bowed in begging forgiveness as his hands curled as if to pray, the small trickle of blood and saliva oozing from his mouth gathering in his palms and dripping into the rope that bound them. “I heard that.” The noises in his head were almost enough to drown out his Muse’s sweet, sweet voice; they had almost masked a voice perpetually sweet and rewarding, even as a sharpness of annoyance and danger laced through the decadent tone. He chokes on the stifled noise of yelp as the pain makes his cock throb, precum dripping like drops of syrup from a spoon from his slit, and the taste of blood increases upon his tongue. Izuru smothers his balls in one hand, pressing them to the seat of the chair and leaning on them as he brought their faces closer. The pain of such mild torture made his eyes water, his jaw ache with pressure, and his cock weep in utter bliss; what a fickle beast he was. “Not a single sound.”

He bit down to the bone upon orgasm and had to have his fingers bandaged by his Lieutenant; the same blond easing him out of his harness and kissing away the aches and the damage of the day that very night.

#:Writing #:OTP Rozuru #nsfw!#:Drabble

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tepidblood · 10 years

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Title: Mornings don't love you, but I do. Summary: Izuru wakes up early and inadvertently wakes up Rose too; Rose is rather forgiving. Pairing: Rozuru Word Count: 1.5k Notes: Part of the Rozuru Mafia AU Warnings: N/a

Izuru wakes up without ceremony, the light biting at the frosted window pane starting to glare into his face, a sign he had been forgetful the night before. It was chilly in the mornings, a fact that would slowly become fiction as it just became flat out cold no matter the hour of day. With some nice clothes and maybe a scarf the chill was nice, it would wake him up as he walked and chase any night time sluggishness away. Without those clothes however, or a desire to rouse himself from the bed, he was cursing the chilliness. He was also cursing his habits of being an early bird, because a squint at the light was telling him it was still several hours from when he needed to wake up; damn it.

He has to sit up and twist under the blankets to look at the clock, which was on the bedside table opposite his side of the bed. The lean body that was still asleep beside him stirred only as he leaned over him, reaching to grab the ticking contraption and bring it close enough for him to properly read the tiny hands. Yes, it was still a good two hours before he needed to be up, and disdain of such a fact makes him a bit clumsy. He did not set the clock down as gently as he wanted, the bell reverberating far too noisily for his taste, and his hand smarts from where he smacks the top to silence it; too late. Rose was already beginning to stir, somehow trained to rouse just for that infernal clock (and nothing else), and Izuru didn’t have enough time to slip back under the covers and play innocent.

He does move back so Rose can roll over, the Capo having rolled to his side at some point in the night. Violet eyes were heavily hooded, unwilling to part at their lids and gaze at any semblance of the day. Rose’s hair was a mess, which is probably at least partially his fault. They hadn’t done much the night before, only enough to leave Izuru with a pleasant twinge of strain on the back of his thighs from spreading his legs over Rose’s arms. Trying to keep his hands out of Rose’s hair was a fruitless task, especially if the older blond would dip his face down and nibble at his neck. The soft waves of gold were more of a tawny straw color in the bleary morning light, the waves having been crumpled and pressed into awkward curls from where Rose had buried his face into the pillows. To see the man, always so powerful and in control, look so disheveled was rather endearing; he enjoyed seeing Rose look so human.

He realizes he was staring when a hand snakes up into his own hair, tugging with lack luster force, and he falls gently beneath the touch. Being brought down to kiss Rose wasn’t a bother, he had been thinking about it anyway, and he’s tired enough he doesn’t even lick his lips before he allows their lips to touch. The kiss is soft and dry, Rose sighing out of his nose as fingers skim down from the back of Izuru’s head down to the back of his neck and pretend to hold him there; they fail to do so when he draws back from the embrace. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” His statement is an apology in some kind of way, the apology that meant more than some of the ones he would utter to others. It comes paired with a gentle touch to a sharp cheek bone, fingers with well-trimmed nails skimming down over the Capo’s lips and touching his waxing smile. Rose was still half asleep, Izuru could tell with how the right side of his face was drooping a little, but that was endearing as well; vulnerability is a gift.

”Are you going to make it up to me?” Ring heavy fingers settle on his shoulder, kneading gently at flesh and bone as the older blond shifts in the bed sheets again and allows cold air to slip beneath them Izuru is quick to push the covers down, shivering slightly, and he remembers again partially why he woke up. His nipples were hard from the chill in the room, something he’s rather hoping the Capo doesn’t notice in his half-awake state, and he stoops over him quite purposefully. He licks his lips this time, slowly becoming more and more aware as his body starts to make itself known, and kisses Rose again. “I can, right after I take a leak.” There is a thoughtful hum under his lips, Rose’s slightly stale morning breath washing over his face, before there is a gentle nod of agreement. Well, he thinks it was a nod; it might have just been Rose rubbing their faces together.

Gentle touches and the promise of a warm embrace are hard to leave, especially when the air was cold and he was naked. He would be wearing clothes to bed again soon, even if he and Rose did have sex before sleeping. The morning chill, even with the house’s heaters running well and toasty, was unpleasant. He’d need to start remembering to get himself a robe before bed too, the Capo’s at the foot of the bed, but he lacked his own. He makes his trip as short as possible, his feet tender to the chill of the tile in the bathroom and his cock unagreeable due to the cold as well. His bladder wins, the sink tap at least running warm water to bring a blush to his fingers, and he’s darting back towards the bed. The carpet was cool too, but it offered more comfort than the tile did, and he’s thankful that there was an extra blanket at the end of the bed.

Rose was upright when he finished unrolling the blanket, dragging it up over them as he slides back into the warmer covers, and puffs out a sigh. The hair brush that sits next to the Capo’s gun has a few bristles missing; something Izuru has learned that comes from bad bedhead knots that the blond could get. It didn’t sound like there were too many knots this morning, the sound of stiff hair brushing through softer hair an oddly soothing noise to his ears. The moment his toes begin to get warm again he feels drowsy, his arm reaching out over the Capo’s lap while still remaining under the covers, the evidence of the first signs of a morning wood just barely brushing his arm; he ignores it.

Rose only touches him to prompt him if he would like a smoke, which he turns down. Smoking meant staying awake, and now that his bladder was relieved and his body was warm, that prospect did not seem friendly. The hiss of a match makes him stir a little, blue eyes glancing as Rose lights himself a cigarette, and he settles back down. Rose smoking in bed was not an uncommon occurance, so he settles in closer, his nose just about even with Rose’s hip. He’s not allowed to sleep though evidently, not as fingers comb through his hair and tug gently. Blue eyes open to glare without much heat, meeting the dark, sleepy violet of the Capo. “Didn’t you say you would do something for me Izuru?” He sounds smug, even with the sleepiness in his voice, and the former cop curses his ability to sound so alluring. It helps him prop up though, getting his balance focused on his side so his out stretched arm can move freely. The half hard erection is touched gently, teased with a fleeting brush of finger tips, and Rose hums slightly off key. “No, not that.”

When he first met the Capo he would not think he would be a man to turn down sex, not with how he could flirt and woo just about any unsuspecting person out of their underwear. Rose grabs his hair more firmly, leading Izuru over on top of him, which was a feat to be done beneath blankets. He manages though, his legs stretching out on either side of Rose’s thighs and his soft cock touching Rose’s semi-hard one. He does not grind down against the other blond though, his hands instead stroking lazily up his sides and slipping underneath his shoulders. Rose scoots farther down, his hair catching more light as the sun peaks more fiercely through the window, and turning into spilled gold against the crisp white of the pillow case. Izuru kisses him, slowly, and Rose hums on key this time. They kiss without rush, sharing the smoke that Rose breathes in, and breathes out into Izuru’s waiting lungs. The warm smoke is blown into the Capo’s face, a playful gesture, and Rose’s free hand reaches down and squeezes his ass in return.

Izuru wakes back up in that position, spread out over Rose’s chest, and Rose’s hand still on his ass; his other had been tucked lovingly in a curl behind Izuru’s ear.

#landofshame #:Writing #:OTP Rozuru #I POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG BLOG UGHD LKFJLKG

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