Addiction
Title: Addiction
Genre: SMUT
Theme: "sex in someone else's kitchen"
Pairing: Mako/Neph
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Answering
venusorbit1 's smut challenge. Only I screwed a little with it, as you can tell.
This was wrong. So wrong. She knew it, he knew it. It was a goddamn addiction surrounded by the smells of baking and arousal.
It was a well known and accepted fact that whenever Makoto entered any abode, the kitchen was hers. No one was allowed in, not even the owner of said abode. Not a soul. Sound beating with various spatulas and spoons would occur if this rule were broken. It was just common knowledge.
So, imagine everyone’s shock, when, only six months after they began dating, Noburo was allowed into the kitchen. Just waltzed in like he owned the place, amidst the shocked gasps from the girls, spattered applause of the Shitennou (mainly Jiro), and the low growl of Haruka, which quickly stopped the applause.
The next ten minutes were spent staring at the door to the kitchen, each silently wondering if the imminent setting of the sun would allow the stars to inform Noburo that he was going to die. After the sun had indeed set, the staring reluctantly gave way to conversation in the sitting room of Ami and Toshiro’s apartment, with an only-slightly-flushed Makoto and a not-bloody-at-all Noburo emerging with that evening’s hors d’oeuvres an hour later. The evening went on as planned. After that, no one questioned Noburo’s right to be in the kitchen. Cleary, in that fading light of the sun, he had passed a test.
Makoto smiled to herself as Noburo lifted her up onto the counter in this apartment, their final conquest. What had really transpired the night had begun the addiction, for as Makoto crafted onigiri and okonomi-yaki, Noburo had decided that her neck needed attending to. After that, it was only a matter of time before it happened again.
Makoto was diverged from her train of thought as her neck was roughly bitten and then licked to ease the sting. A reminder to pay attention. Makoto acquiesced with a quiet moan and started undoing the button down that Noburo had labeled his “victory shirt”. Her own shirt was quietly hanging off one of the cupboard handles. When had he gotten rid of that? Oh well. She had more important things to do.
Mouth met mouth in a heated battle for dominance, each trailing hands over the others body, trying to get as much contact as possible. Noburo kneaded her breast as she teasingly licked that spot on his shoulder, earning a growl when she raked her nails softly on his lower back. She was quickly punished as her bra was undone and a nipple became firmly ensconced in his hot and oh-so-delicious mouth. Trailing her own tongue down his chest in a distracting manner, she moved her hands to the waist of his jeans, using those same nails to dip low beneath the material of his boxers and scrape his hipbones lightly, a gesture used only sometimes for maximum effectiveness.
And effective it was, for his hands quickly moved to the bottom of her skirt, mouth having moved to the other breast, using teeth and tongue to trigger little white dots in her vision. It was bunched up around her waist with efficiency. Proper attire always made things smoother. Deserting her breasts, he knelt between her now exposed core, giving her one long lick from top to bottom before delving in, making her gasp in both surprise and appreciation. Kami, but his tongue was amazing! She could only sink her hands in his gorgeous locks and pray her nails didn’t hurt him this time. Last time he had done this in the kitchen of Jiro and Rei she had made him bleed because she could not scream his name.
She settled for moaning it instead. This broke some barrier for him, for he pulled away, stood up, and met her eyes, the blazing hunger in his matching her own. His pants were soon followed by his boxers, and her knees forced even more apart as his body came between them. Kissing her hard enough to bruise, he plunged into her, stifling her gasp with his mouth. After a few thrusts she was undone, whispering his name into his ear and wrapping her legs around him, one flip-flop gone and the other dangling precariously.
Still driving her into the counter, so much so that she was going to bruise, he nipped at one of her slightly bouncing breasts, causing her vaginal muscles to clamp down on him, sending him into oblivion. Both breathing deep, him still partially hard inside her, he spoke in his sexiest voice.
“Ready for round two?”
As Makoto was about to nod her assent that she would very much enjoy a round two, the timer went off, sending both into a flurry of panic. Their friends would have heard that, and would be expecting them. Noboru cursed rather fluently and dislodged himself. Makoto retrieved her top after hooking up her bra and straightening her skirt, putting the appetizers on plates as she did so. Noboro had also readied himself in record time and soon both exited the kitchen, after sending each other one last dirty triumphant smile.
Setting down their burdens, it was Minako who broke away from the conversation to whisper at them obnoxiously.
“Did you guys enjoy your last triumph?”
At this, Makoto blushed deeply and Noboru sputtered.
“What-How-“
“Please. You think you could hide it from me? You both reek of sex. Oh, and guys, I would suggest you fix-“
Minako was cut off with a question from Hotaru.
“Mako-chan, why are you wearing only one shoe?”
Makoto blushed even deeper, wishing she had noticed that. She giggled nervously and moved the bare foot back and forth across the carpet.
“Oh, I must have just stepped out of one of them, you know, in my hurry to get into the kitchen.”
Rei saw right through her, and crowed delightedly: “If that’s so, why is Noburo-san’s shirt mis-buttoned?”
Genre: SMUT
Theme: "sex in someone else's kitchen"
Pairing: Mako/Neph
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Answering
venusorbit1 's smut challenge. Only I screwed a little with it, as you can tell.
This was wrong. So wrong. She knew it, he knew it. It was a goddamn addiction surrounded by the smells of baking and arousal.
It was a well known and accepted fact that whenever Makoto entered any abode, the kitchen was hers. No one was allowed in, not even the owner of said abode. Not a soul. Sound beating with various spatulas and spoons would occur if this rule were broken. It was just common knowledge.
So, imagine everyone’s shock, when, only six months after they began dating, Noburo was allowed into the kitchen. Just waltzed in like he owned the place, amidst the shocked gasps from the girls, spattered applause of the Shitennou (mainly Jiro), and the low growl of Haruka, which quickly stopped the applause.
The next ten minutes were spent staring at the door to the kitchen, each silently wondering if the imminent setting of the sun would allow the stars to inform Noburo that he was going to die. After the sun had indeed set, the staring reluctantly gave way to conversation in the sitting room of Ami and Toshiro’s apartment, with an only-slightly-flushed Makoto and a not-bloody-at-all Noburo emerging with that evening’s hors d’oeuvres an hour later. The evening went on as planned. After that, no one questioned Noburo’s right to be in the kitchen. Cleary, in that fading light of the sun, he had passed a test.
Makoto smiled to herself as Noburo lifted her up onto the counter in this apartment, their final conquest. What had really transpired the night had begun the addiction, for as Makoto crafted onigiri and okonomi-yaki, Noburo had decided that her neck needed attending to. After that, it was only a matter of time before it happened again.
Makoto was diverged from her train of thought as her neck was roughly bitten and then licked to ease the sting. A reminder to pay attention. Makoto acquiesced with a quiet moan and started undoing the button down that Noburo had labeled his “victory shirt”. Her own shirt was quietly hanging off one of the cupboard handles. When had he gotten rid of that? Oh well. She had more important things to do.
Mouth met mouth in a heated battle for dominance, each trailing hands over the others body, trying to get as much contact as possible. Noburo kneaded her breast as she teasingly licked that spot on his shoulder, earning a growl when she raked her nails softly on his lower back. She was quickly punished as her bra was undone and a nipple became firmly ensconced in his hot and oh-so-delicious mouth. Trailing her own tongue down his chest in a distracting manner, she moved her hands to the waist of his jeans, using those same nails to dip low beneath the material of his boxers and scrape his hipbones lightly, a gesture used only sometimes for maximum effectiveness.
And effective it was, for his hands quickly moved to the bottom of her skirt, mouth having moved to the other breast, using teeth and tongue to trigger little white dots in her vision. It was bunched up around her waist with efficiency. Proper attire always made things smoother. Deserting her breasts, he knelt between her now exposed core, giving her one long lick from top to bottom before delving in, making her gasp in both surprise and appreciation. Kami, but his tongue was amazing! She could only sink her hands in his gorgeous locks and pray her nails didn’t hurt him this time. Last time he had done this in the kitchen of Jiro and Rei she had made him bleed because she could not scream his name.
She settled for moaning it instead. This broke some barrier for him, for he pulled away, stood up, and met her eyes, the blazing hunger in his matching her own. His pants were soon followed by his boxers, and her knees forced even more apart as his body came between them. Kissing her hard enough to bruise, he plunged into her, stifling her gasp with his mouth. After a few thrusts she was undone, whispering his name into his ear and wrapping her legs around him, one flip-flop gone and the other dangling precariously.
Still driving her into the counter, so much so that she was going to bruise, he nipped at one of her slightly bouncing breasts, causing her vaginal muscles to clamp down on him, sending him into oblivion. Both breathing deep, him still partially hard inside her, he spoke in his sexiest voice.
“Ready for round two?”
As Makoto was about to nod her assent that she would very much enjoy a round two, the timer went off, sending both into a flurry of panic. Their friends would have heard that, and would be expecting them. Noboru cursed rather fluently and dislodged himself. Makoto retrieved her top after hooking up her bra and straightening her skirt, putting the appetizers on plates as she did so. Noboro had also readied himself in record time and soon both exited the kitchen, after sending each other one last dirty triumphant smile.
Setting down their burdens, it was Minako who broke away from the conversation to whisper at them obnoxiously.
“Did you guys enjoy your last triumph?”
At this, Makoto blushed deeply and Noboru sputtered.
“What-How-“
“Please. You think you could hide it from me? You both reek of sex. Oh, and guys, I would suggest you fix-“
Minako was cut off with a question from Hotaru.
“Mako-chan, why are you wearing only one shoe?”
Makoto blushed even deeper, wishing she had noticed that. She giggled nervously and moved the bare foot back and forth across the carpet.
“Oh, I must have just stepped out of one of them, you know, in my hurry to get into the kitchen.”
Rei saw right through her, and crowed delightedly: “If that’s so, why is Noburo-san’s shirt mis-buttoned?”