your idea is amazing and i wanted to do it real justice... but somehow it ended up as more of a prequel to the idea lol. maybe part two will happen someday!

mini fic featuring.... yakuza setting, modern times, atsusaku, fem!kiyoomi --lots of hints at nsfw but nothing too explicit

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Two fucking years.

That’s how long it’s taken Atsumu to charm his way into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s good graces.

Weeks of enduring her cold shoulder and distant greetings. Months of flirting, gifts, and favors just to earn her budding interest. A whole goddamn year of celibacy to prove he could be trusted.

“Kneel,” Kiyoomi orders, soft and firm. Atsumu drops down to the plush carpet of the library’s floor in an instant, forced to follow her whim if he wants even a scrap of attention.

Atsumu kneels for no one and she knows it. He wouldn’t dare bend to a single other person. His reputation at the top in the underground world of organized crime is a tool that he keeps honed to a sharp point.

Those thoughts are far away though in the face of Kiyoomi’s black stiletto heels as she raises her foot and lightly presses the flat of her shoe between Atsumu’s legs.

It’s been so long since Atsumu has felt another person’s touch on his cock that he’s immediately on a hair trigger, his blood already starting to rush south at the lightest of stimulation.

Kiyoomi’s evening gown, dark aubergine velvet with a high cut in the skirt, parts to reveal the long line of her leg, allowing Atsumu to see a hint of her lacy garter.

It takes everything in him to keep his hands at his sides.

Soon, he can touch.

If he earns it.

Kiyoomi leans down, hooking her index finger under Atsumu’s chin and tilting his face up. The pressure on his crotch steadily increases. His breath catches in his throat, leaving him nearly light-headed.

Atsumu has been with countless other women, and even a handful of men, but no one has ever reduced him to this. No one has ever wrung a single promise from his lips. No one has ever led Atsumu around with an invisible leash and collar—but there’s no doubt that Kiyoomi has done all that and more.

Osamu thinks it’s hilarious. That Atsumu is getting his well deserved karmic retribution through Kiyoomi’s trials.

Atsumu takes it as a compliment though. What others might see as a burn to his pride as he’s chased after her for these two years, instead feels like kindling to a fire.

Who else has Kiyoomi ever let this close? Who else has Kiyoomi let stand by her side, offering both protection and pleasure?

Only Atsumu.

Now, Kiyoomi stares at him, the faintest hint of a curve to her lips. “Don’t get too excited,” she says, almost sounding amused. “I can’t be gone for too long at my own party. You know that.”

Atsumu does know that.

Except that today marks the anniversary of Kiyoomi’s challenge.

It’s been the longest year of Atsumu’s life—but he’d never strayed, even when temptation had literally landed in his lap.

And while Kiyoomi could certainly be cruel enough to ignore the date, to refuse to acknowledge what Atsumu has done for her, to not offer him any reward at all—he knows her better than that.

She’s far more likely to tease him with the promise of more just up ahead, giving him exactly enough of what he wants to keep him on the chase for even longer.

So Atsumu grins up at her, allowing his hand to circle around her ankle, thumb brushing softly over the thin nylon of her stockings. “If the party were that important, ya wouldn’t have snuck off with me in the first place,” Atsumu answers with a chuckle.

He skates his hand up her calf, slow and steady. “Better be careful about your excuses, Kiyoomi. I might start thinking ya actually care.”

Kiyoomi releases his chin, straightening back up to her full height. Even without heels, she’s taller than him—and now, knelt down at her feet, she looms above him and clearly revels in her advantage.

Her foot moves away from between his legs, leaving him aching and cold. Fuck. He’d rut against her shoe, if she let him. He really would.

Instead, her foot travels upward, over the plane of his stomach, the muscles of his chest, up and up, until her leg is fully over his shoulder, and the sharp heel of her shoe digs into his back as she pulls him in closer.

The change in position spells out exactly what she wants. Atsumu slides his hand up further, forcing the part in her dress up higher so that he can see the delicate lace of her underwear.

She turns her face away from him, looking off to the side as if anyone could be at her feet. Like Atsumu could be exchanged with a random stranger who caught her eye and it would be fine.

Liar.

“You have five minutes,” she tells him, her tone bland. “I wouldn’t waste any more time talking, if I were you.”

It’s just like Kiyoomi to try and turn this into a hidden assassignation. To reduce what Atsumu has been so desperately waiting for into something quick and rushed.

He won’t do it, though.

Over the years, he’s won his battles with her. He’s kissed her in the dark of the midnight before, dragging sweet low-octave moans from her throat. He’s skimmed his fingers along her chest, being allowed to unbutton her shirt and kiss the swells of her breasts. He’s convinced her to sit in his lap at the blackjack table—even knowing the sweet drag of her mouth along his neck and the subtle rocking of her hips would ensure the loss of his money.

Each and every moment between them has slowly been building towards this exact moment.

And Kiyoomi wants to see if he’ll let all the anticipation of that slow burn fizzle away in a flash of momentary gratification simply because she’s finally him given permission.

The games never quit with her.

Which is why Atsumu will always come back for more.

Atsumu huffs a laugh, nuzzling close at Kiyoomi’s thigh. “Five minutes? That’s cute, Omi.” He nudges his nose against her mound, breathing in deep. He’s fairly certain, given that they’ve been engaging in the longest game of foreplay ever, that he really could make Kiyoomi come in five minutes.

That’s not what Atsumu wants, though. Not when he knows there’s something even better waiting for him if he can prove himself.

He pushes up even closer, stretching the leg she has thrown over his shoulder and pressing her into the wall behind them. He presses a kiss to her folds through thin fabric, knowing she can barely feel it.

Even so, her breathing suddenly sounds uneven and her hips push forward minutely.

Atsumu smooths his palms up higher, tracing the lines of her garter belt, the tops of her stockings, the edges of her panties. She shivers under his touch, deeply affected even if she wants to pretend otherwise.

If Kiyoomi really wanted Atsumu’s mouth on her, she would have skipped the stockings and the underwear. She would have slipped on her dress with not a thing on underneath. She sure as hell wouldn’t have hitched her leg over his shoulder, ruining the one easy path to slide her panties down her legs.

Instead, she’s wrapped up like a perfect present, ready for Atsumu to slowly reveal the gift of her cunt when the time is right.

Atsumu has every intention of being in her bedroom once the party is over. Despite the massive size of her family’s home, he’s learned what wing of the house belongs to Kiyoomi. He expects her door is unlocked, just waiting for him to slip inside as the other guests are leaving.

That fantasy will only come true if Atsumu plays into Kiyoomi’s hands now.

Atsumu kisses a path down Kiyoomi’s thigh, towards her knee that’s hooked around him, away from where he desperately wants to put his lips. He softly nudges her leg back down onto the ground, before slowly standing up to face Kiyoomi head on. “If you think I’m gonna fall for your tricks, think again.”

Kiyoomi smirks at him, that upward sadistic curl to her lip proving that Atsumu has guessed correctly. She leans forward, looping her finger under his tie and pulling him close. “Your loss, then. Who knows how long it might be before I’m feeling that generous again.”

Atsumu grins right back, covering her hand with his own. “Guess I’m feeling lucky tonight, Omi.” He slips deftly away from her grip on his tie, starting to turn away. “Better get back to your party. Maybe I’ll catch you later.”

There’s a pleased satisfaction lurking behind Kiyoomi’s gaze. “Maybe you will.”

The next few hours are sure to pass slowly but they’ll be worth it. Far better than the fleeting satisfaction of a few minutes snuck away in the dark.

It’s been worth the wait.

/end

(well sort of lol.... i really would like to write a part two someday! esp since I never even had a chance to explain how I picture Kiyoomi fitting into the yakuza world!)