Prompt 86: Sinful
My third drabble. Promt Eighty Six. Sinful. Very fun to write, but took hooooouuuurs cause it was not only a POV switch, time switch, AND headspace, but also an unconventional pairing too. Kaito is the main character, of course, but I'm not going to tell the second character. ^__^
Yaoi, rated R.
Yet very fun to write.
Probably not something that will ever happen, but hey, that's okay.
Sinful:
Captured. To be taken by force, or strategem, as a prisoner.
Something I thought would never truly happen to me. I had gotten arrogant.
Strong hands gripped his back, intentionally tight, to feel the muscle hidden underneath his jacket. Lips brushed over his jawbone, then down to his exposed collarbone, kissing light.
I don't even remember how it happened, really. It was supposed to have been a normal heist. I left the task force in the dust, and Hakuba was not nearly close enough to grab me.
Then suddenly it happened, without any warning. Two steps ahead of even me: an intelligence I underestimated by far.
He couldn't move his arms from above his head, pulled to an angle that would become painful if he tried to twist his arms out of the cuffs. His legs were pinned by the heavy body above him, spread slightly to either side. Slowly, agonisingly slow, his chest was exposed, his captor unable, and possibly unwilling, to strip him entirely.
I was surprised, though there's no word in my vocabulary to describe just how much it effected me. I was not the only thief on that rooftop that night. He stole me, completely and utterly.
"I wonder," his captor's voice drifted up from his abdomen. "what would they think, to see you up here...with me? Like this." He felt the slightest touch of teeth on his flesh and shivered, unable to reply. The man shifted back up, staring into his eyes as he moved the cloth the thief was forced to bite into, taking the chance to kiss him hard, fingertips teasing his nipples under the shirt.
I couldn't move. My muscles ached, my skin burned, I couldn't even breathe. I was bound and my instincts to flee were chased back in favor of something that should never have come up on such a dangerous night.
He was panting, slow teasing mixed with a touch of pain that was driving him insane. His captor kissed him again, hands busy exploring the insides of his now bared thighs, swallowing the smalls sounds. Voices echoed from another roof, unseen from their current position. Flashlights glinted from around the wall, the task force making sure he hadn't lingered around. If they only knew.
I am slightly surprised. He left me my identity, never once revealing my face, though he had more than an opportunity for it. Though he had this look in his intense eyes, telling me, without a doubt, that it didn't matter.
He had me, and he knew it.
It was difficult. He kept wanting to moan, or shout, but everytime he even started to make a sound, his captor bit down on him, the threat of pain forcing him to grit his teeth and swallow his own desperate mewls.
And still he got no release.
He had me. Then he let me go. Satisfied, sore, and very very shaky. I managed to get home, but once I got to my bed, my legs failed me. I don't remember how I got changed out of my uniform. There is one thing I know for sure afterwards.
It seemed to have been at least an hour of teasing before his captor finally entered him, holding his legs still to keep him from arching. It was agonizing, and brilliant. Undescribable. He forgot who he was in the darkness, helpless, in painful ecstasy. He couldn't tell if he liked it or hated it, but his body orgasmed all the same. His captor grinned, flashing teeth, and leaned forward to bite his lip.
"You can only run so far. There will always be someone here ta catch ya." he said, loud enough for his accent to sound. The thief didn't reply, catching his breath and staring straight into his captor's green eyes. Eyes that were always intelligent, he just didn't see how much. His mistake and he paid for it.
He let me go, because he knew that I was caught. As painful as it was, there had been a thrill. An addicting fear that came with being helpless. I am standing here now, at the end of another heist, watching the detective lingering in the shadows. He knew I would come back. That this next time, I would be the one going to him.
He stole me, locking me in a sinful, painful dance that I had no desire to escape from.
Feedback is appreciated.
Yaoi, rated R.
Yet very fun to write.
Probably not something that will ever happen, but hey, that's okay.
Sinful:
Captured. To be taken by force, or strategem, as a prisoner.
Something I thought would never truly happen to me. I had gotten arrogant.
Strong hands gripped his back, intentionally tight, to feel the muscle hidden underneath his jacket. Lips brushed over his jawbone, then down to his exposed collarbone, kissing light.
I don't even remember how it happened, really. It was supposed to have been a normal heist. I left the task force in the dust, and Hakuba was not nearly close enough to grab me.
Then suddenly it happened, without any warning. Two steps ahead of even me: an intelligence I underestimated by far.
He couldn't move his arms from above his head, pulled to an angle that would become painful if he tried to twist his arms out of the cuffs. His legs were pinned by the heavy body above him, spread slightly to either side. Slowly, agonisingly slow, his chest was exposed, his captor unable, and possibly unwilling, to strip him entirely.
I was surprised, though there's no word in my vocabulary to describe just how much it effected me. I was not the only thief on that rooftop that night. He stole me, completely and utterly.
"I wonder," his captor's voice drifted up from his abdomen. "what would they think, to see you up here...with me? Like this." He felt the slightest touch of teeth on his flesh and shivered, unable to reply. The man shifted back up, staring into his eyes as he moved the cloth the thief was forced to bite into, taking the chance to kiss him hard, fingertips teasing his nipples under the shirt.
I couldn't move. My muscles ached, my skin burned, I couldn't even breathe. I was bound and my instincts to flee were chased back in favor of something that should never have come up on such a dangerous night.
He was panting, slow teasing mixed with a touch of pain that was driving him insane. His captor kissed him again, hands busy exploring the insides of his now bared thighs, swallowing the smalls sounds. Voices echoed from another roof, unseen from their current position. Flashlights glinted from around the wall, the task force making sure he hadn't lingered around. If they only knew.
I am slightly surprised. He left me my identity, never once revealing my face, though he had more than an opportunity for it. Though he had this look in his intense eyes, telling me, without a doubt, that it didn't matter.
He had me, and he knew it.
It was difficult. He kept wanting to moan, or shout, but everytime he even started to make a sound, his captor bit down on him, the threat of pain forcing him to grit his teeth and swallow his own desperate mewls.
And still he got no release.
He had me. Then he let me go. Satisfied, sore, and very very shaky. I managed to get home, but once I got to my bed, my legs failed me. I don't remember how I got changed out of my uniform. There is one thing I know for sure afterwards.
It seemed to have been at least an hour of teasing before his captor finally entered him, holding his legs still to keep him from arching. It was agonizing, and brilliant. Undescribable. He forgot who he was in the darkness, helpless, in painful ecstasy. He couldn't tell if he liked it or hated it, but his body orgasmed all the same. His captor grinned, flashing teeth, and leaned forward to bite his lip.
"You can only run so far. There will always be someone here ta catch ya." he said, loud enough for his accent to sound. The thief didn't reply, catching his breath and staring straight into his captor's green eyes. Eyes that were always intelligent, he just didn't see how much. His mistake and he paid for it.
He let me go, because he knew that I was caught. As painful as it was, there had been a thrill. An addicting fear that came with being helpless. I am standing here now, at the end of another heist, watching the detective lingering in the shadows. He knew I would come back. That this next time, I would be the one going to him.
He stole me, locking me in a sinful, painful dance that I had no desire to escape from.
Feedback is appreciated.