1000 Themes - #612 - Ouran - KyouHaru
Title: Passion
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex
Words: 829
Series: Ouran High School Host Club
Pairings/Characters: Kyouya/Haruhi
She would have never expected her back to be the one covered in scratches, but here she was, flinching every time his nails-no, his claws-scraped down the smooth skin of her bare back, leaving stinging trails of pink in their wake. When did he get such sharp nails? And since when did he think it was okay to just go about scratching her as he pleased? Jerk.
Haruhi let out a small cry when a particularly deep cut was made. Fed up, she pushed away and slapped Kyouya’s shoulder. She almost regretted leaving his warm embrace when she shivered from the sudden loss of heat, but was far too determined to go back. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
Kyouya’s head was currently nestled in her shoulder-he had been gracing her with a rather large hickey-and when he lifted up Haruhi’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t from some mushy lovey-dovey feeling; it was from fear. She had forgotten what his gaze looked like now that they were finally having sex. In previous encounters, it had never become so frightening, but now that he had her…he kept her.
His sharp gray eyes, full of calculating precision, were now clouded in a dangerous haze of lust, of passion, of possession. His breathing was somewhat labored, and he had a fixed, hungry stare on her, making him appear as a predatory animal who had at long last acquired the prey he had been hunting for so long. He was a horrifying creature to have clutching her, clawing into her, teasing her and damn ready to just fuck her. She was scared, but she was brave.
“What do you mean?” Kyouya questioned, his impatience making itself obvious through his tone of voice and the tightening of his grip on her. Haruhi rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands from her back. There were small droplets of blood on his fingertips, and somehow it looked completely natural on Kyouya’s artistic fingers.
“This. You’re hurting me.” she stated, irritated. Kyouya stared at her, then at his hands, then back at her, and finally he shrugged. Haruhi’s jaw dropped. “What was that shrug for? Kyouya!”
Kyouya yanked his wrist from her grasp, grabbed the back of her head, and pushed her forward, clashing their mouths together in a way that could only be described as carnal. Haruhi beat on his chest, and in return he took one of her small breasts into his large hand, squeezing and massaging until she surrendered and mewled. He pulled away then, smirking that god-awful smirk Haruhi had come to be exasperated by.
“Fine. We’ll just move on, then.”
Before Haruhi could completely process the implications of his words, Kyouya had shoved her back onto the mattress, pulled her lower body by her thighs so that she could be straightened-up, and had positioned himself with one leg in his hold while his other hand was busy sliding a condom onto his dick. He looked down between her open legs, spread her legs further, and smirked yet again. Apparently he was pleased.
Haruhi was blushing from both embarrassment and anger. She pushed her upper body up with her arms, and just as she began to tell him off he slipped into her, causing her words to come out as croaking noises. Shit, it hurt! She could feel the blood trickling from her virgin opening, and she tried to fight off the tears that came to her eyes. She was surprised that he was taking this slowly, but by the time her tears stopped he was living up to her expectations.
Kyouya’s nails dug into her thigh as he thrust in and out, and at the first cry of his name from Haruhi’s sweet mouth he dropped her leg to hold onto her hips, unable to handle the lack of physical possession he craved so much. He was going fast, slamming into her, rocking the bed so hard the headboard thumped against the wall once or twice.
Like every other couple having sex, they moaned and groaned and cried out various words or phrases, and Kyouya was amused to discover that Haruhi liked to throw out mild curse words once in a while. Personally, if there were any intelligible words from him, they were hissed and not much louder than his normal speaking voice.
There was passion in their violence, and it was shown by the scratches on Haruhi’s body, the droplets of sweet blood on the sheets, and the bruises on their necks and Kyouya’s back from when Haruhi managed to hit him. But what no one else would know was how arousing Kyouya found Haruhi when she squeezed her crying eyes shut and held tightly onto the sheets around her, or how Haruhi loved and hated it when Kyouya gave her that possessive look, that glare of domination that sent shivers down her spine. There was passion there, and it was saved for only them.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex
Words: 829
Series: Ouran High School Host Club
Pairings/Characters: Kyouya/Haruhi
She would have never expected her back to be the one covered in scratches, but here she was, flinching every time his nails-no, his claws-scraped down the smooth skin of her bare back, leaving stinging trails of pink in their wake. When did he get such sharp nails? And since when did he think it was okay to just go about scratching her as he pleased? Jerk.
Haruhi let out a small cry when a particularly deep cut was made. Fed up, she pushed away and slapped Kyouya’s shoulder. She almost regretted leaving his warm embrace when she shivered from the sudden loss of heat, but was far too determined to go back. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
Kyouya’s head was currently nestled in her shoulder-he had been gracing her with a rather large hickey-and when he lifted up Haruhi’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t from some mushy lovey-dovey feeling; it was from fear. She had forgotten what his gaze looked like now that they were finally having sex. In previous encounters, it had never become so frightening, but now that he had her…he kept her.
His sharp gray eyes, full of calculating precision, were now clouded in a dangerous haze of lust, of passion, of possession. His breathing was somewhat labored, and he had a fixed, hungry stare on her, making him appear as a predatory animal who had at long last acquired the prey he had been hunting for so long. He was a horrifying creature to have clutching her, clawing into her, teasing her and damn ready to just fuck her. She was scared, but she was brave.
“What do you mean?” Kyouya questioned, his impatience making itself obvious through his tone of voice and the tightening of his grip on her. Haruhi rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands from her back. There were small droplets of blood on his fingertips, and somehow it looked completely natural on Kyouya’s artistic fingers.
“This. You’re hurting me.” she stated, irritated. Kyouya stared at her, then at his hands, then back at her, and finally he shrugged. Haruhi’s jaw dropped. “What was that shrug for? Kyouya!”
Kyouya yanked his wrist from her grasp, grabbed the back of her head, and pushed her forward, clashing their mouths together in a way that could only be described as carnal. Haruhi beat on his chest, and in return he took one of her small breasts into his large hand, squeezing and massaging until she surrendered and mewled. He pulled away then, smirking that god-awful smirk Haruhi had come to be exasperated by.
“Fine. We’ll just move on, then.”
Before Haruhi could completely process the implications of his words, Kyouya had shoved her back onto the mattress, pulled her lower body by her thighs so that she could be straightened-up, and had positioned himself with one leg in his hold while his other hand was busy sliding a condom onto his dick. He looked down between her open legs, spread her legs further, and smirked yet again. Apparently he was pleased.
Haruhi was blushing from both embarrassment and anger. She pushed her upper body up with her arms, and just as she began to tell him off he slipped into her, causing her words to come out as croaking noises. Shit, it hurt! She could feel the blood trickling from her virgin opening, and she tried to fight off the tears that came to her eyes. She was surprised that he was taking this slowly, but by the time her tears stopped he was living up to her expectations.
Kyouya’s nails dug into her thigh as he thrust in and out, and at the first cry of his name from Haruhi’s sweet mouth he dropped her leg to hold onto her hips, unable to handle the lack of physical possession he craved so much. He was going fast, slamming into her, rocking the bed so hard the headboard thumped against the wall once or twice.
Like every other couple having sex, they moaned and groaned and cried out various words or phrases, and Kyouya was amused to discover that Haruhi liked to throw out mild curse words once in a while. Personally, if there were any intelligible words from him, they were hissed and not much louder than his normal speaking voice.
There was passion in their violence, and it was shown by the scratches on Haruhi’s body, the droplets of sweet blood on the sheets, and the bruises on their necks and Kyouya’s back from when Haruhi managed to hit him. But what no one else would know was how arousing Kyouya found Haruhi when she squeezed her crying eyes shut and held tightly onto the sheets around her, or how Haruhi loved and hated it when Kyouya gave her that possessive look, that glare of domination that sent shivers down her spine. There was passion there, and it was saved for only them.