Masterpiece
Jun. 10th, 2014 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unmeiboyMasterpiece
Fujigaya/Senga (Kis-My-Ft2)
100 words x 3, NC-17. Sadism (knifeplay)
For h_itoshi ♥
"Stay still," Fujigaya commands, and Senga jerks at the sudden words, vision disabled by a blindfold. He doesn't move from the bed, doesn';t move a single centimeter, but when he feels the weight on it shift, his muscles tense and he waits for more skin contact. Instead, what he gets is a cold, stinging pain. Fujigaya has a sharp knife in his hand, has cut Senga along one of his ribs, and seeing liquid pool around the cut has his own blood rushing downwards. Three more and he has Senga whimpering, and he swears he has never been this hard.
A tight grip in his hair and Fujigaya pulls his head backwards roughly, listens to his groan before he crushes their lips together, hot and needy, Fujigaya more so than Senga. There's streaks of blood in his hair when he lets go, but he only changes his grip and pulls again, harder.
"I'm going to fuck you, Kenpi," he whispers against Senga's neck, teeth scraping against his skin. There's a shiver all along Senga's body, and he nods his consent despite breaking out in soft whimpers when Fujigaya scratches his torso, opening the coagulating cuts to let them bleed again.
It's rushed, so hot, so much that Fujigaya has a hard time holding back once he's inside Senga, thrusting hard and fast. His breathing is almost at the same pace, and beneath him Senga is arching his back in pleasure, one hand jerking himself frantically. He's gorgeous like that, eyes covered, crimson smeared across his chest and stomach, a streak on his right cheek, hairs on the same side of his head sticky with it. Tonight, Senga isn't just a group member, or even a lover; he's one of Fujigaya's artworks, created into perfection, and broken at the same time.
Fujigaya/Senga (Kis-My-Ft2)
100 words x 3, NC-17. Sadism (knifeplay)
For h_itoshi ♥
"Stay still," Fujigaya commands, and Senga jerks at the sudden words, vision disabled by a blindfold. He doesn't move from the bed, doesn';t move a single centimeter, but when he feels the weight on it shift, his muscles tense and he waits for more skin contact. Instead, what he gets is a cold, stinging pain. Fujigaya has a sharp knife in his hand, has cut Senga along one of his ribs, and seeing liquid pool around the cut has his own blood rushing downwards. Three more and he has Senga whimpering, and he swears he has never been this hard.
A tight grip in his hair and Fujigaya pulls his head backwards roughly, listens to his groan before he crushes their lips together, hot and needy, Fujigaya more so than Senga. There's streaks of blood in his hair when he lets go, but he only changes his grip and pulls again, harder.
"I'm going to fuck you, Kenpi," he whispers against Senga's neck, teeth scraping against his skin. There's a shiver all along Senga's body, and he nods his consent despite breaking out in soft whimpers when Fujigaya scratches his torso, opening the coagulating cuts to let them bleed again.
It's rushed, so hot, so much that Fujigaya has a hard time holding back once he's inside Senga, thrusting hard and fast. His breathing is almost at the same pace, and beneath him Senga is arching his back in pleasure, one hand jerking himself frantically. He's gorgeous like that, eyes covered, crimson smeared across his chest and stomach, a streak on his right cheek, hairs on the same side of his head sticky with it. Tonight, Senga isn't just a group member, or even a lover; he's one of Fujigaya's artworks, created into perfection, and broken at the same time.