[Fanfiction] Endless Night
Title: Endless Night
Prompt: larkir - Rope
Fandom: JRock
Pairing: Meguhai, Gakuhai if you squint a lot, Gakuhaimegu if you squint with both eyes closed
Warnings: het!smut. LOTS. Nothing else. PWP, basically.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Hyde, Megumi and Gackt are real people. I do not claim to know, understand or own them in any way. I just wrote this for entertainment. I do not mean to imply anything by the written words and I do not mean to slight the real persons in any way, least of all in regards to Hyde's very real and hopefully very happy marriage.
Note: Have you ever caught yourself thinking "Megumi must be a very happy woman" whenever there was tongueservice? That's what spawned this.
Rope
~*~
Skin as white as freshly fallen snow. Eyes as dark as the nightsky. Hair as soft as a lover's kiss. Lips as sweet as temptation. Hands as gentle as a mild breeze, bound by a velvet rope as black as the gaze resting on her vulnerable, exposed body.
So beautiful.
Slender fingers flex. A warm chuckle hovers in the air as the black rope tightens slightly. „Not yet.“ It's a whisper agains her lips. They left the note on the rope. It says Enjoy your wedding day - G. They kiss deeply now. His tongue dances with hers, twining, rubbing, teasing before it curls back to dance across his lips. With a wicked smile he dips down again to catch her taste once more.
His fingers, calloused from playing the guitar and yet so incredibly soft and warm, glide down her neck and over a collarbone. She shivers when he traces the curve of her breasts and smiles against her lips, teasing and promising. One fingertip brushes over her nipple and then his lips move to follow his hands and she's in heaven when the sensitive nub is enveloped by wet warmth. The sensation makes her want to tangle her fingers in his hair and hold him close. The rope won't give, though, and she is left to gasp and spread her legs when a hand moves lower.
Fingertips brush through soft curls. Heat pools between her legs, making her wet and wanton. He touches her just the right way, knows her inside out. Sparks dance through her body. She breathes his name, once, twice and then he releases her breast. Breath ghosts over her wet nipple, making her shiver as his lips descend. A faint blush rises on her cheeks as she cries out, rolls her hips into his touch, but he just kisses her stomach, silently tells her to relax. How can she do that, though, when he makes love to her like this without demanding anything back, when he cherishes her like the greatest treasure of all? So attentive, so loving, so wicked because he knows just how to play her to make her spark and catch fire. His thumb idly circles the bundle of nerves she longs to have him touch, reducing her to whimpers while he breathes kisses onto her thighs.
Weakly she raises her head to glance at him and is just in time to see him licking her juices off his fingers. The sight makes her blush madly even after all these years, just because it seems so perfectly naughty and intimate beyond belief. Their gazes lock. Something in her face makes him smile dreamily and rest his cheek against her leg. They stay like this for a while until she has lost herself in those depths completely. It amazes her how he can simply stop whatever he is currently doing just to look at things he perceives beautiful. It’s not flattery that he counts her equal to drifting rose petals, sunsets and blue glass. She knows he adores her soul as much as he is entranced by her looks even after all these years.
Without warning and without his eyes ever losing their dreamy quality, two fingers enter her, pushing deep. Her head falls back against the pillow as she gasps and moans. The contact is lost all too quickly when he pulls back. Madly her heart beats as she lies still, knowing what is to come, yearning and dreading all the same.
A wet trail is left on her leg as his tongue skates over the delicate skin. Goosebumps rise all over her body. Warm hands push her open further. He kisses her, hums in pleasure and she answers with a soft moan. It's their kind of music, a song they only sing with each other. She arches her back as that talented tongue glides between her lips, deeper, towards her core. He tastes her, claims her, kindles her fire. Upwards, curling over her the center of her lust and she shudders when he dips back down. His kiss is slow, languid strokes of his tongue, gentle. She knows he will take his time with this, because it is about her pleasure alone.
Time passes. She is panting and whimpering ever so softly, and then she cries out when suddenly his licking and stroking and exploring is joined by gentle sucking. He has to hold her waist so that she won't squirm away from him when the sensations make her go wild. The blinding pleasure makes her want to curl away from him and push closer at the same time, pulling and pushing within her. Smoldering eyes rest upon her but she can't return the gaze. Her world is reduced to his tongue within her, curling, stroking, touching, pleasuring; giving so much and taking so little. The velvet rope caresses her skin as she pulls, craving to touch him, play with his hair as he lifts her to new heights, hold onto him as she finally feels that explosion within herself. Every muscle in her body tightens. She shudders, arches, rolls her hips against him. Dimly she is aware of crying his name. Completely lost she feels him stay just where he his, kissing her deeply and tasting her orgasm with all the patience in the world.
It takes some time for her to come down from this high, riding out the last waves of pleasure with small contented noises dropping from her lips. When she opens her eyes he licks moisture from his lips with an expression of utter bliss on his beautiful, ageless face.
„Hideto...“ she breathes and tugs on the ropes. Still her breathing is irregular. Just looking at him kindles the embers within her. He slides along her body until he lays on her. She can feel the metal rings warmed by his skin brush against her, the heat of his arousal sliding along the wetness he has yet to claim. Not yet. Their bodies aligned completely he kisses her. She moans against his lips as she tastes herself, eroticism of the most depraved and yet pure sort. His fingertips glide over the rope before he pulls back and smiles.
She does not know if she wants to kiss or kill Camui Gackt for giving her husband this rope along with too many ideas.
„Not yet“ he repeats as their gazes lock. Her breath catches.
Eyes as dark as an endless night.
~*~
Fin...
Prompt: larkir - Rope
Fandom: JRock
Pairing: Meguhai, Gakuhai if you squint a lot, Gakuhaimegu if you squint with both eyes closed
Warnings: het!smut. LOTS. Nothing else. PWP, basically.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Hyde, Megumi and Gackt are real people. I do not claim to know, understand or own them in any way. I just wrote this for entertainment. I do not mean to imply anything by the written words and I do not mean to slight the real persons in any way, least of all in regards to Hyde's very real and hopefully very happy marriage.
Note: Have you ever caught yourself thinking "Megumi must be a very happy woman" whenever there was tongueservice? That's what spawned this.
Rope
~*~
Skin as white as freshly fallen snow. Eyes as dark as the nightsky. Hair as soft as a lover's kiss. Lips as sweet as temptation. Hands as gentle as a mild breeze, bound by a velvet rope as black as the gaze resting on her vulnerable, exposed body.
So beautiful.
Slender fingers flex. A warm chuckle hovers in the air as the black rope tightens slightly. „Not yet.“ It's a whisper agains her lips. They left the note on the rope. It says Enjoy your wedding day - G. They kiss deeply now. His tongue dances with hers, twining, rubbing, teasing before it curls back to dance across his lips. With a wicked smile he dips down again to catch her taste once more.
His fingers, calloused from playing the guitar and yet so incredibly soft and warm, glide down her neck and over a collarbone. She shivers when he traces the curve of her breasts and smiles against her lips, teasing and promising. One fingertip brushes over her nipple and then his lips move to follow his hands and she's in heaven when the sensitive nub is enveloped by wet warmth. The sensation makes her want to tangle her fingers in his hair and hold him close. The rope won't give, though, and she is left to gasp and spread her legs when a hand moves lower.
Fingertips brush through soft curls. Heat pools between her legs, making her wet and wanton. He touches her just the right way, knows her inside out. Sparks dance through her body. She breathes his name, once, twice and then he releases her breast. Breath ghosts over her wet nipple, making her shiver as his lips descend. A faint blush rises on her cheeks as she cries out, rolls her hips into his touch, but he just kisses her stomach, silently tells her to relax. How can she do that, though, when he makes love to her like this without demanding anything back, when he cherishes her like the greatest treasure of all? So attentive, so loving, so wicked because he knows just how to play her to make her spark and catch fire. His thumb idly circles the bundle of nerves she longs to have him touch, reducing her to whimpers while he breathes kisses onto her thighs.
Weakly she raises her head to glance at him and is just in time to see him licking her juices off his fingers. The sight makes her blush madly even after all these years, just because it seems so perfectly naughty and intimate beyond belief. Their gazes lock. Something in her face makes him smile dreamily and rest his cheek against her leg. They stay like this for a while until she has lost herself in those depths completely. It amazes her how he can simply stop whatever he is currently doing just to look at things he perceives beautiful. It’s not flattery that he counts her equal to drifting rose petals, sunsets and blue glass. She knows he adores her soul as much as he is entranced by her looks even after all these years.
Without warning and without his eyes ever losing their dreamy quality, two fingers enter her, pushing deep. Her head falls back against the pillow as she gasps and moans. The contact is lost all too quickly when he pulls back. Madly her heart beats as she lies still, knowing what is to come, yearning and dreading all the same.
A wet trail is left on her leg as his tongue skates over the delicate skin. Goosebumps rise all over her body. Warm hands push her open further. He kisses her, hums in pleasure and she answers with a soft moan. It's their kind of music, a song they only sing with each other. She arches her back as that talented tongue glides between her lips, deeper, towards her core. He tastes her, claims her, kindles her fire. Upwards, curling over her the center of her lust and she shudders when he dips back down. His kiss is slow, languid strokes of his tongue, gentle. She knows he will take his time with this, because it is about her pleasure alone.
Time passes. She is panting and whimpering ever so softly, and then she cries out when suddenly his licking and stroking and exploring is joined by gentle sucking. He has to hold her waist so that she won't squirm away from him when the sensations make her go wild. The blinding pleasure makes her want to curl away from him and push closer at the same time, pulling and pushing within her. Smoldering eyes rest upon her but she can't return the gaze. Her world is reduced to his tongue within her, curling, stroking, touching, pleasuring; giving so much and taking so little. The velvet rope caresses her skin as she pulls, craving to touch him, play with his hair as he lifts her to new heights, hold onto him as she finally feels that explosion within herself. Every muscle in her body tightens. She shudders, arches, rolls her hips against him. Dimly she is aware of crying his name. Completely lost she feels him stay just where he his, kissing her deeply and tasting her orgasm with all the patience in the world.
It takes some time for her to come down from this high, riding out the last waves of pleasure with small contented noises dropping from her lips. When she opens her eyes he licks moisture from his lips with an expression of utter bliss on his beautiful, ageless face.
„Hideto...“ she breathes and tugs on the ropes. Still her breathing is irregular. Just looking at him kindles the embers within her. He slides along her body until he lays on her. She can feel the metal rings warmed by his skin brush against her, the heat of his arousal sliding along the wetness he has yet to claim. Not yet. Their bodies aligned completely he kisses her. She moans against his lips as she tastes herself, eroticism of the most depraved and yet pure sort. His fingertips glide over the rope before he pulls back and smiles.
She does not know if she wants to kiss or kill Camui Gackt for giving her husband this rope along with too many ideas.
„Not yet“ he repeats as their gazes lock. Her breath catches.
Eyes as dark as an endless night.
~*~
Fin...