[JE] untitled het smut pairings
Written for the JE het smut anonymeme. First time writing anything graphically nc-17. XD
Pairing: Matsumoto Jun and Inoue Mao
Prompt: Cosplay (because we all know that Matsujun has his little kinks)
"CUT!" the director yells, and Mao breathes a sigh of relief, hurrying away from the set to get to her dressing room and take off her maid's uniform--people kept saying she looked so 'cute' wearing it ('hot' was what Oguri Shun said, which earned him a punch in the shoulder from the petite actress) but it was so itchy and- and tiny and short, she swears she is deathly afraid of bending over for fear of exposing her underwear to the entire cast and crew when wearing that confounded uniform.
Unfortunately before she is even halfway to her room, an arm reaches out, hand covering her mouth effectively and pulling her bodily into a cramped, dark hallway. She struggles mightily but her captor is pretty strong-- she refuses, however, to be defeated, and opens her mouth to take a hearty chomp of the hand that would cause her impending suffocation.
"OW--FUCKING HELL--"
"Matsumoto?!" she shrieks, trying to turn around and see his face--there isn't much space and as it is, they were already squished together so she gives up and settles for tilting her head back so she could see him. She could make out a vague outline of his disgruntled-looking face. "What are you--"
"Shut up," Jun hisses, trying to cover her mouth again, but she snaps her jaws threateningly and he is forced to retreat his hand back to his side, though an arm is still around her waist, holding her firmly in place. She struggles anew, trying to free herself from his grip.
"Let go, what do you think you're doing?" she demands. He opens his mouth to answer--but what comes out is an almost inhuman moan.
"Would you stop. Squirming," he says through gritted teeth. She squirms all the more just to defy him. "Aghh--"
She stops suddenly, voice curious when she speaks up. "What... What is that thing poking--"
Mao doesn't get to finish her question; Jun grabs her hair and twists her neck about slightly so he could cover her mouth with his.
Her lips part open in surprise; and he immediately takes advantage of that fact by turning her around to face him and sweeping his tongue inside, sliding over her teeth and flicking against hers, coaxing her to respond. Her knees go weak at the contact and she grabs at the lapels of his jacket almost unconsciously. Somewhere in her haze-filled mind she acknowledges that if his arm wasn't around her waist right now, she would have fallen to the floor like a puppet. She certainly feels like one--like she was being controlled by something, someone, him, and it feels so good... Oh, to hell with it. He started this, didn't he? Growling low in her throat, she pulls him closer and begins kissing back fiercely (not that she had any idea of what she was really doing).
He pulls away moments later, breathing heavily, hand still fisted in her hair at the back of her neck. From a dim light somewhere far down the hallway where they were situated, he could make out the defiant glint in her wide eyes. Lowering his face once more, he tugs her hair back so he could pay attention to the line of her throat.
"Do you know," he begins, voice husky from disuse, as he presses open-mouthed kisses to her neck; he could feel her swallow and tilt her head back of her own accord, "what Domyouji is thinking every time he sees Makino wearing this?" He lets go of her hair to run his fingers down, down to the short hem of her skirt, tracing the edge.
Mao opens her mouth to answer, but her breath hitches in her throat and a high-pitched moan escapes.
"He's thinking of throwing her on the bed and fucking her senseless," Jun goes on, teeth scraping her throat. "And I think Domyouji and I..." His hand creeps under her skirt, pushing it up as his fingers crawled up her thigh, "...think alike, really."
She whimpers, barely aware that one of her legs have hooked itself around his waist.
He raises his head to look at her, smirking at the action and thinking he's had her for sure--when she looks up, positively glaring. She darts forward and captures his lower lip between her teeth, biting down hard. He rears back, bumping his head on the wall behind him in the process--hissing and cursing and feeling all the more aroused, damn her.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" he asks in a dark voice laced with amusement, fingers finally reaching her panties and splaying over it--it feels lacy. Perfect.
"Do you?" she shoots back, and in the next second she realizes it's the wrong question to ask when his fingers slip past her underwear and starts touching her there and when she remembers to open her eyes again she realizes she's practically climbed his body: both her legs are around his waist, her hands are gripping his shoulders and she's looking down at him, and he is licking his fingers and--and her apron has been pulled down, and when the hell did he manage to open her blouse?
A sudden, scuffling noise near their location make them freeze, clearing their heads a little. Jun curses, setting Mao down on her feet unceremoniously. "C'mon, we should--go somewhere--" He tugs on her arm and she somehow manages to follow him despite her legs feeling like jelly, her feet having to run to keep up with his long strides. She doesn't know how they manage to get to his dressing room, not really seeing where they were going; all she could feel was the insistent, pleasant pounding emanating from between her legs, where his fingers were.
He pulls her inside, locks the door, and pulls her down on a nearby armchair, cupping his hands around her behind. She lets out an almost indignant shriek as she flops down on him, arms going about his neck instinctively--and lets out a breathless gasp at the feel of his erection through his pants, pressed against her damp panties. Raising her head to look at him, she finds him staring at her, one corner of his lips turned up in a smirk and she narrows her eyes at him. Arrogant bastard. The pounding from between her legs seem to echo through her entire body, and she shifts in his lap, and it feels good so she repeats the action, rubbing against him. His head falls back, fingers digging into her hips and he's moaning; she giggles lightly. Who's smirking now?
Of course, she should have known by now that he was not one to let himself lose-- He recovers, hands deftly opening the rest of the buttons on her blouse and unhooking her bra, and she pulls away from him shakily to shrug her blouse off when he commands, "Don't," with such finality, eyes roving over her disheveled form. His gaze makes her shiver, he's looking at her like he wants to eat her, she thinks, when he leans down and takes one nipple into his mouth and she cries out, arching into him.
The next moment she opens her eyes, her panties are torn off; he's unzipped his pants, rolled a condom over his erection and is raising her hips, looking into her eyes as he pulls her down on him.
His shoulders receive quite a beating, and he's pretty sure there'll be bruises all over them later as she continues to pound on them, screaming, "It hurts, you BASTARD" and to make her shut up he captures her lips with his and proceeds to ravish her mouth, hands sliding up to cup her breasts. Her arms go slack; she's kissing him back and making little moans at the back of her throat that makes him just a bit harder-- the next thing he knows she is moving against him, baby doll shoes scraping the leather armchair in the frenzy of her movements and he is lost, bucking against her just as frantically, hands fisting in her skirt that is bunched around her waist.
With every movement she could feel something inside her tightening, stretching--oh, she can't explain, her mind is thinking just a little more, more, more and then it comes, a shattering sensation that seems to start from her groin and explode outwards, spreading heat through her entire body, leaving her weak and trembling. It doesn't take long for him to follow; he pushes into her one last time before falling back on the armchair, taking her with him. The ringing in her ears subside, and she could hear their breathing, fast and shallow. She inhales deeply, allowing herself to lie comfortably on him, arms folding over his chest.
She feels laughter rumbling from him before she actually hears it and she looks up at him; his eyes are closed and he's grinning maniacally and she pounds both her fists on his chest in retaliation. "You asshole."
"What? You didn't like it?" he asks teasingly, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You could have asked!"
"Would you have said yes?"
"Well--no."
"Exactly."
"Well-- you said a bed."
Pairing: Yokoyama Yu and Abiru Yu
Prompt: Yu's on the rebound. Which Yu? You decide.
She sucks him off hard and his fingers are tangled in her hair, pushing her mouth down further on his length and almost choking her, but she doesn't mind. She retaliates by raking her nails up his stomach, scratching his nipples and he bucks into her, groaning. With a little difficulty, he manages to raise his head to see her going up, down, up, down, those full lips wrapped around his erection and fuck it he's not going to last too long, head falling back on the pillows and hips thrusting upwards frantically. Just when he feels he's about to climax, she stops suddenly, sitting up and sliding two fingers inside her, rocking her hips against his and moaning throatily.
"You're good," he rasps out, looking at her with something close to awe through half-open eyelids. "Yamapi's an idiot for leaving you..."
She glares at him, slipping her fingers out and then in her mouth, sucking at her own wetness; his hips jerk upwards at the sight. "Can we not talk about him please?" With an air of defiance, she moves to kneel above him and expertly sinks into him. His eyes almost roll to the back of his head at the sensation.
Almost lazily, she rolls her hips over his again and again, sighing as she cups her own breasts, fingers fondling her nipples. "But I forgot...you're the one who can't shut up, they say--" she lets out a moan as that particular thrust hits just the right spot, "--so let's talk...about you... Any particular reason why you're with me...?"
His eyes focus, darkening with anger; suddenly he's rolling them over and he's pounding into her hard, making the bed shake violently. She cries out but doesn't protest, hooking her legs over his shoulders and matching his movements. "Don't," he hisses, "Ask. You don't--ahh, fuck--want to know--"
"Just shut up," she retorts, not really listening, pulling his head down for a brutal kiss.
Pairing: Matsumoto Jun and Inoue Mao
Prompt: Cosplay (because we all know that Matsujun has his little kinks)
"CUT!" the director yells, and Mao breathes a sigh of relief, hurrying away from the set to get to her dressing room and take off her maid's uniform--people kept saying she looked so 'cute' wearing it ('hot' was what Oguri Shun said, which earned him a punch in the shoulder from the petite actress) but it was so itchy and- and tiny and short, she swears she is deathly afraid of bending over for fear of exposing her underwear to the entire cast and crew when wearing that confounded uniform.
Unfortunately before she is even halfway to her room, an arm reaches out, hand covering her mouth effectively and pulling her bodily into a cramped, dark hallway. She struggles mightily but her captor is pretty strong-- she refuses, however, to be defeated, and opens her mouth to take a hearty chomp of the hand that would cause her impending suffocation.
"OW--FUCKING HELL--"
"Matsumoto?!" she shrieks, trying to turn around and see his face--there isn't much space and as it is, they were already squished together so she gives up and settles for tilting her head back so she could see him. She could make out a vague outline of his disgruntled-looking face. "What are you--"
"Shut up," Jun hisses, trying to cover her mouth again, but she snaps her jaws threateningly and he is forced to retreat his hand back to his side, though an arm is still around her waist, holding her firmly in place. She struggles anew, trying to free herself from his grip.
"Let go, what do you think you're doing?" she demands. He opens his mouth to answer--but what comes out is an almost inhuman moan.
"Would you stop. Squirming," he says through gritted teeth. She squirms all the more just to defy him. "Aghh--"
She stops suddenly, voice curious when she speaks up. "What... What is that thing poking--"
Mao doesn't get to finish her question; Jun grabs her hair and twists her neck about slightly so he could cover her mouth with his.
Her lips part open in surprise; and he immediately takes advantage of that fact by turning her around to face him and sweeping his tongue inside, sliding over her teeth and flicking against hers, coaxing her to respond. Her knees go weak at the contact and she grabs at the lapels of his jacket almost unconsciously. Somewhere in her haze-filled mind she acknowledges that if his arm wasn't around her waist right now, she would have fallen to the floor like a puppet. She certainly feels like one--like she was being controlled by something, someone, him, and it feels so good... Oh, to hell with it. He started this, didn't he? Growling low in her throat, she pulls him closer and begins kissing back fiercely (not that she had any idea of what she was really doing).
He pulls away moments later, breathing heavily, hand still fisted in her hair at the back of her neck. From a dim light somewhere far down the hallway where they were situated, he could make out the defiant glint in her wide eyes. Lowering his face once more, he tugs her hair back so he could pay attention to the line of her throat.
"Do you know," he begins, voice husky from disuse, as he presses open-mouthed kisses to her neck; he could feel her swallow and tilt her head back of her own accord, "what Domyouji is thinking every time he sees Makino wearing this?" He lets go of her hair to run his fingers down, down to the short hem of her skirt, tracing the edge.
Mao opens her mouth to answer, but her breath hitches in her throat and a high-pitched moan escapes.
"He's thinking of throwing her on the bed and fucking her senseless," Jun goes on, teeth scraping her throat. "And I think Domyouji and I..." His hand creeps under her skirt, pushing it up as his fingers crawled up her thigh, "...think alike, really."
She whimpers, barely aware that one of her legs have hooked itself around his waist.
He raises his head to look at her, smirking at the action and thinking he's had her for sure--when she looks up, positively glaring. She darts forward and captures his lower lip between her teeth, biting down hard. He rears back, bumping his head on the wall behind him in the process--hissing and cursing and feeling all the more aroused, damn her.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" he asks in a dark voice laced with amusement, fingers finally reaching her panties and splaying over it--it feels lacy. Perfect.
"Do you?" she shoots back, and in the next second she realizes it's the wrong question to ask when his fingers slip past her underwear and starts touching her there and when she remembers to open her eyes again she realizes she's practically climbed his body: both her legs are around his waist, her hands are gripping his shoulders and she's looking down at him, and he is licking his fingers and--and her apron has been pulled down, and when the hell did he manage to open her blouse?
A sudden, scuffling noise near their location make them freeze, clearing their heads a little. Jun curses, setting Mao down on her feet unceremoniously. "C'mon, we should--go somewhere--" He tugs on her arm and she somehow manages to follow him despite her legs feeling like jelly, her feet having to run to keep up with his long strides. She doesn't know how they manage to get to his dressing room, not really seeing where they were going; all she could feel was the insistent, pleasant pounding emanating from between her legs, where his fingers were.
He pulls her inside, locks the door, and pulls her down on a nearby armchair, cupping his hands around her behind. She lets out an almost indignant shriek as she flops down on him, arms going about his neck instinctively--and lets out a breathless gasp at the feel of his erection through his pants, pressed against her damp panties. Raising her head to look at him, she finds him staring at her, one corner of his lips turned up in a smirk and she narrows her eyes at him. Arrogant bastard. The pounding from between her legs seem to echo through her entire body, and she shifts in his lap, and it feels good so she repeats the action, rubbing against him. His head falls back, fingers digging into her hips and he's moaning; she giggles lightly. Who's smirking now?
Of course, she should have known by now that he was not one to let himself lose-- He recovers, hands deftly opening the rest of the buttons on her blouse and unhooking her bra, and she pulls away from him shakily to shrug her blouse off when he commands, "Don't," with such finality, eyes roving over her disheveled form. His gaze makes her shiver, he's looking at her like he wants to eat her, she thinks, when he leans down and takes one nipple into his mouth and she cries out, arching into him.
The next moment she opens her eyes, her panties are torn off; he's unzipped his pants, rolled a condom over his erection and is raising her hips, looking into her eyes as he pulls her down on him.
His shoulders receive quite a beating, and he's pretty sure there'll be bruises all over them later as she continues to pound on them, screaming, "It hurts, you BASTARD" and to make her shut up he captures her lips with his and proceeds to ravish her mouth, hands sliding up to cup her breasts. Her arms go slack; she's kissing him back and making little moans at the back of her throat that makes him just a bit harder-- the next thing he knows she is moving against him, baby doll shoes scraping the leather armchair in the frenzy of her movements and he is lost, bucking against her just as frantically, hands fisting in her skirt that is bunched around her waist.
With every movement she could feel something inside her tightening, stretching--oh, she can't explain, her mind is thinking just a little more, more, more and then it comes, a shattering sensation that seems to start from her groin and explode outwards, spreading heat through her entire body, leaving her weak and trembling. It doesn't take long for him to follow; he pushes into her one last time before falling back on the armchair, taking her with him. The ringing in her ears subside, and she could hear their breathing, fast and shallow. She inhales deeply, allowing herself to lie comfortably on him, arms folding over his chest.
She feels laughter rumbling from him before she actually hears it and she looks up at him; his eyes are closed and he's grinning maniacally and she pounds both her fists on his chest in retaliation. "You asshole."
"What? You didn't like it?" he asks teasingly, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You could have asked!"
"Would you have said yes?"
"Well--no."
"Exactly."
"Well-- you said a bed."
Pairing: Yokoyama Yu and Abiru Yu
Prompt: Yu's on the rebound. Which Yu? You decide.
She sucks him off hard and his fingers are tangled in her hair, pushing her mouth down further on his length and almost choking her, but she doesn't mind. She retaliates by raking her nails up his stomach, scratching his nipples and he bucks into her, groaning. With a little difficulty, he manages to raise his head to see her going up, down, up, down, those full lips wrapped around his erection and fuck it he's not going to last too long, head falling back on the pillows and hips thrusting upwards frantically. Just when he feels he's about to climax, she stops suddenly, sitting up and sliding two fingers inside her, rocking her hips against his and moaning throatily.
"You're good," he rasps out, looking at her with something close to awe through half-open eyelids. "Yamapi's an idiot for leaving you..."
She glares at him, slipping her fingers out and then in her mouth, sucking at her own wetness; his hips jerk upwards at the sight. "Can we not talk about him please?" With an air of defiance, she moves to kneel above him and expertly sinks into him. His eyes almost roll to the back of his head at the sensation.
Almost lazily, she rolls her hips over his again and again, sighing as she cups her own breasts, fingers fondling her nipples. "But I forgot...you're the one who can't shut up, they say--" she lets out a moan as that particular thrust hits just the right spot, "--so let's talk...about you... Any particular reason why you're with me...?"
His eyes focus, darkening with anger; suddenly he's rolling them over and he's pounding into her hard, making the bed shake violently. She cries out but doesn't protest, hooking her legs over his shoulders and matching his movements. "Don't," he hisses, "Ask. You don't--ahh, fuck--want to know--"
"Just shut up," she retorts, not really listening, pulling his head down for a brutal kiss.