Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shinjiro looks directly into her eyes. “I ain’t holdin’ back anymore.”

Kotone holds his gaze, waits for him to make a move. He leans down towards her, close, so close. She tilts her head up, her eyes slide closed—

Then he walks away. She blinks a few times. He sits on his bed and looks at her. “C’mere.”

Oh. They’re really… skipping right to it, huh.

Well… she knew what she was getting into. So she takes a breath, gathers her courage, and goes and sits down next to him.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Not like that, princess.”

Princess?

Before she can even process this new pet name he’s giving her, he grabs her arm and pulls and before she can even blink, she’s splayed across his lap, hands on one side of his legs and knees on the other.

“Senpai…?” she says uncertainly.

“I’m sick of you always pushing me around all the time. Think you can just do whatever you want, huh? Well, I can do that too. You’re gonna take responsibility for playing with my feelings like that.”

“What… do you mean?”

He runs a hand along her inner thigh. She tenses; she’s already so sensitive. What’s he planning…

His hand creeps higher and higher. He pauses at her underwear line. “I think…” his voice drops to a deeper octave, “you need to learn to behave.”

Her eyes widen. A shiver runs through her. She thinks she knows what he means…

“So be a good girl and take it, all right?” he murmurs.

She knew it was coming, but she still tenses when she feels the first blow land. “S-Senpai—why—”

“You know why.”

She bites her lip and tries not to make any noise. It doesn’t really hurt, she’s definitely been through worse, it’s just the suspense and shock that draws the whimper out of her throat when he hits her again.

“Whoa,” he laughs. “You like this, huh?”

“N-No,” she stammers. She cries out when he hits her again; it stings.

“That’s for lying. Try again.”

“You’re the one who pulled me over here!” she exclaims. She gasps and arches her back when the next blow lands; she definitely can’t pretend she doesn’t like it anymore.

“You’re the one who’s enjoying it,” he retorts.

But that doesn’t mean she has to admit it.

The blows start back up again, and he doesn’t give her any more time to talk back. They come one after the other after the other, and her hands fist in his sheets.

“This is for all that shit you wear in Tartarus.”

Her eyes widen and she gasps.

“Yeah, that’s right. I know you wear all that for me. Tryin’ to see what I’ll do if you push me hard enough. Well, you’re gonna find out tonight, sweetheart.”

“This all you got?” she pants when he next gives her a break.

He lets out a laugh from deep within his chest. “Oh, this is only the beginning.”

She bites her lip as hard as she can, but he still hears her breathy little whimpers. He keeps saying stuff too, making fun of her for liking it, telling her maybe he should take her over his knee the next time she pisses him off.

She shudders, and he laughs. The bastard laughs. “Who would’ve thought that our great and powerful leader would like being put in her place like this?”

“Yeah, like you’re one to talk,” she scoffs. She can see the tent in his pants.

He lightly runs his fingers against her; she holds in a squirm. “Least I’m not soaking wet.”

Oh, that’s it.

She sits up to look at him; he’s smirking at her and it suddenly steals her breath away. It’s a lot easier to talk back when he’s just a voice and a hand, but here, like this…

She’s kneeling next to him and he’s still taller than her. This close, she’s more aware of how broad his chest is than ever. She wants to be crowded by him, surrounded by him. Her heart is pounding in her ears, her lungs are burning. God, she wants to kiss him.

So she does. She sits up on her knees, grabs the lapels of his coat, and crushes their lips together.

It’s not sweet. It’s not romantic.

It’s raw, and desperate, and hungry. He grabs her by the hips and pulls her into his lap, grinds his hips up slowly, deliberately, making sure she feels every inch of him.  

His hands tangle up in her hair, loosening the hair tie until her hair falls loose around her shoulders. She undoes the buttons on his coat, pushes it off him. There’s a wet, filthy noise when he pulls away; it makes her cheeks flush darker. They’re both panting. He shrugs off the rest of his coat and she stares at his chest.

She can’t believe he’s been hiding this from her. She reaches for the hem of his shirt, but he catches her wrists. “Not yet, princess.”

“But—”

He tightens his grip around her wrists and her protest catches in her throat. He tilts his chin up and narrows his eyes. “Get on your knees.”

She can’t manage to suppress the shiver that runs through her. He smirks, and her face burns. She does what he says, slides off the bed onto her knees, places herself between his spread legs. She stares hungrily at the tent in his pants; it looks bigger than before.

He unbuckles his belt. “Go on. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll give you a reward.”

She stares at his cock with wide eyes. He’s definitely… proportionate. The head is flushed red and there are some beads of liquid forming there. Her mouth waters.

But she reaches out with her hand first, because she’ll be damned if she’s letting him talk to her like that. She wraps her hand around him, surprised to find that it’s… hard. She doesn’t know why that’s surprising. It’s warm, too. She imagines the idea of it inside her and more heat pools in her stomach.

“You know,” she says as she starts rubbing his cock, “you act all tough, but deep down, you’re just a big softie, aren’t you?”

His eyes narrow. She tightens her grip on his cock and he bites his lip.

“You’re cute, pretending like you’re not enjoying this,” she teases.

He frowns. “Cute?”

“Yup. Cute.”

He lets out a shaky breath. There’s finally a blush rising in his cheeks too. “Don’t say stuff like that…”

That’s what finally embarrasses him? After what they’ve already done tonight, that’s what embarrasses him?

Good. After what he did earlier, he deserves this. She’s going to milk it for all it’s worth.

“You like that?” she asks. “You like being complimented?”

He looks off to the side; the flush in his cheeks deepens.

“Aww, what’s wrong? Embarrassed?”

“I don’t answer to you,” he mumbles.

“Yeah you do,” she counters with a grin. “I’m the leader. So tell me.”

He keeps his mouth firmly shut. She sees his jaw clenching, like he has to physically hold himself back from following the order. She chuckles.

“What is so goddamn funny,” he pants.

“Oh, nothing.” She speeds up her strokes, experimenting. Trying to see what’ll finally make him moan.

She twists her wrist and that does the trick. He’s biting his lip again, head ducked to his chest, but she hears his muffled noise. He’s been trying to keep quiet this whole time, but she finally, finally gets to hear him. Gets to hear the raw, wrecked noise torn from his throat, all because of her.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “There’s a good boy.”

He tenses up; his cock twitches in her hand. “What… the fuck… are you talking about?” he strains to say.

“You sound nice when you moan for me.”

His breath hitches. She thinks she finally got him to shut up. Only with words. She feels pretty smug about that.

Then he suddenly grabs her by the hair and pulls her closer until her face is right in front of his cock. She gasps.

“You don’t know when to shut up,” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “Now find something better to do with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

She swallows thickly, then drops her gaze to his cock. It looks even bigger up close. Daunting, almost. 

But she’s never been one to back down from a challenge. It took so much work just to get him to let her in here, she’s not backing out now. Not when she wants this just as badly as he does.

She sticks her tongue out and gives it a few licks. His grip on her hair loosens and he sighs. Bolstered by the response, she opens her mouth wide and sinks down. His breathing gets faster.

She wants him to make more noises. Louder noises. Wants to hear his sexy voice wrecked with pleasure. Wants to hear him moan her name.

She leans forward—fast, too fast, and gags. She pulls off and takes a few desperate breaths.

He strokes her hair. Slowly, gently. She never would have expected that from him. “Careful.”

In his eyes, she sees concern, but a glint of something else too. A challenge?

Too much for you? his eyes tease.

I’ll show YOU too much, she sends back with a glare. He raises his eyebrows; he must have understood.

She does it slowly this time, takes deep breaths through her nose to relax her throat. There are a few close calls, but she refuses to back down. When she’s pressing her nose into the coarse hair between his legs, he finally moans properly. Her hands clench into fists at her sides; the pressure between her own legs is becoming… distracting. She presses her legs together and tries to focus on him; it barely helps.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasps. “There’s a good girl.”

Her clit throbs, and the whimper that escapes her is loud, and embarrassing, and she hears that throaty chuckle again. She’s never heard him laugh this much before. “You like that, huh? Knew you would.”

She glares up at him, ignoring the rush of heat that runs through her. He thought about this?

He’s just leaning back, leisurely. Casually. Almost as if having her between his legs is just another typical night for him. And he’s got that damn smirk on again. “You look good down there. Stuffed full of my cock. Right where you belong.”

Jesus… where did he learn to talk like that? And, more importantly, does he mean it?

She starts bobbing her head, running her tongue all over him, trying to figure out what he likes. She pulls back and sucks on the head. She heard some girls in the locker room talking about that once, said guys are sensitive there.

“Fuck, that’s good, Kotone,” he pants. His grip on her hair tightens, just a bit. Her breath hitches.

He tightens his grip more, then pulls. Apparently nothing escapes his notice. She moans around him at the dull pain that provides, the way it amplifies her pleasure, sends more heat rushing between her legs. She knows he’s going to make fun of her for it, but she can’t help it. She can’t help that it feels good…

“You like having your hair pulled, princess?” he asks, like he doesn’t know the damn answer already. “Learning a lot about you tonight.”

She’s learning a lot about him tonight too. Mainly that for as taciturn as he is most of the time, he never fucking shuts up in here.

She never would have predicted that. She imagined he’d be just like he is out there, quiet and dark and mysterious, every smile quickly hidden with a frown. She never knew he could sound so happy. Never knew he could laugh like this.

She makes another pathetic noise. He keeps praising her and pulling her hair, maneuvering her until she’s moving her head in a rhythm that he likes. Using her as he sees fit.

She’s starting to get lightheaded. Her clit throbs with need, she needs him to touch her, but he said he’d only do that if she does a good job, so she forces herself to focus on him. On the way his breathing speeds up when she grips his legs for support. On how heavy his cock is on her tongue. On the slightly salty taste spreading through her mouth. On the way his moans are getting louder, his voice is getting hoarser, his thighs are trembling around her.

He’s finally moaning her name, “Fuck, fuck, Kotone, yeah, just like that, good girl—”

She whimpers and redoubles her efforts on his cock. He doesn’t even make fun of her for it; that must be a good sign, that he’s too far gone to even tease her.

He’s not too far gone to stop praising her though. The words keep pouring out of him, countless utterances of, “good girl,” and, “Kotone,” and, “yeah, that’s it, don’t stop, don’t stop—fuck—”

He moans louder, voice hoarse and broken, and the realization that he’s like this because of her makes her clit throb harder than ever—but that’s okay, because his is throbbing too, she can feel it—

He curses and tightens his grip on her hair, shoves her head down harder and faster, makes her take him all the way to the hilt and then holds her there as his cock pulses in her mouth, a bitter taste on her tongue as he cries out her name.

It’s taking everything she has just to remember to breathe, to not choke, because he’s somehow even bigger than she imagined and she can hardly believe he even fits in her mouth.

His hold on her hair loosens; she hears him panting. His hand eventually falls away from her, so she pulls back.

She doesn’t know what to do with what’s in her mouth. She keeps it firmly closed, because there’s nowhere for her to spit. He suddenly grabs her by the chin and forces her head up to look at him.

“Swallow,” he orders, eyes narrowed into slits. She does it without thinking. “Good girl. Now get up here.”

Does he… really mean it? She did good? Is he going to touch her now too?

She stands on trembling legs and tries not to feel disappointed when she sees him redoing his belt. She hoped… well. She’ll take whatever he’ll give her.

He stands up, towering over her like always. His chest is still heaving from earlier, face still flushed, staring at her like he wants to eat her alive.

And fuck, she wants that too.

He shoves her onto the bed; she yelps as her back hits the mattress. She sits up to look at him, but he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at… her skirt. He licks his lips, then kneels down. Her heart beats faster, her breathing speeds up—fuck, she can’t watch this. She falls back onto the bed, throws an arm over her face.

He grabs her knees, lifts them up, spreads her legs. Not gentle, but not forceful like earlier either. Just… assured. Determined. Just like he is in Tartarus. Like Fuuka just found the enemy’s weakness and he’s going to exploit it.

And fuck, maybe he is.

He doesn’t even take her underwear off. He just pushes it to the side. His thumbs spread her apart, and she inhales sharply. She’s never felt so… exposed before.

“Well, aren’t you pretty,” he purrs. “All wet for me.”

“Get to work,” she snaps, ignoring her flushing cheeks.

“Isn’t it funny that the girl who gives orders likes being ordered around? That’s why you’re so wet, isn’t it? Who would’ve thought,” he teases.

“Shut—” she cuts herself off with a sharp cry as she feels his tongue drag along her cunt, pressing hard against her clit like he knows how much she needs it.

He pulls back and chuckles. “So that’s what it takes to shut you up.”

“You don’t know—” she tries, but he just puts his mouth on her again and the words die in her throat, give way to a choked moan. How is he so fucking good at this?

He rubs her clit with his thumb; she shivers. “Maybe I’ll do this every time you push me around.”

She pants harder as she imagines it. Maybe she’ll wear something provocative in Tartarus again and see what he does. Maybe it’ll be just the two of them. Maybe he’ll take her up against the wall, decide he has to have her right then and there, Shadows be damned.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” like he doesn’t already know the answer.

Before she can even say anything, he’s licking her again. He seals his lips over her clit, sucks on it, laves his tongue over it. Her hands fist in the sheets at her sides, but she wants to hold onto him, like he held onto her earlier—

She sits up and nearly passes out when she sees his head between her legs; her body starts shaking, and she feels the need to touch him more than ever.

She reaches out and slides a trembling hand into his hair, pushes his hat off. He hums his approval against her clit and the vibrations of his lips make her cry out, “Shinji!”

He suddenly pulls away. “What did you just say?”

Shit, fuck, she didn’t mean to, it just slipped out—

“Kotone. Look at me.”

She pushes herself up on trembling arms. She pants harder when she sees him looking up at her. His face is… wet.

“What did you just say,” he asks again, but it’s not a question. It’s an order.

“Shin… ji…” she breathes out. She knows she shouldn’t have, but it just slipped out, and she’s heard Akihiko call him that so many times, maybe it just rubbed off on her, and maybe she imagined moaning his name like this in here with him, but still, he never told her she could, she should probably apologize—

But he keeps holding her gaze, expression unreadable, and she can’t bring herself to.

Then, “Yeah, that’ll do. No more of that senpai shit, got it?”

She nods. He looks at her expectantly and she realizes what she’s supposed to say. “Y… Yes, Shinji.”

He smirks. “Good girl. Finally learned some manners, huh?”

“Well, senpai is more respectful, actually—fuck!” He cuts her off by tonguing her clit again.

“Talk back again,” he threatens. “See what happens.”

She whimpers. Maybe before, she could have pushed back, but she can’t, she can’t, she needs to come—

She grips his hair tighter, pulls him closer, and he sucks harder on her clit. She can’t stop saying his name, mindless babbles of, “Shinji,” pouring out of her while her hips desperately thrust up against him. She doesn’t even register how hard her thighs are shaking until he places his hands on them and gently squeezes.

She doesn’t try to talk back anymore, and he doesn’t make fun of her either, and maybe it’s because he needs this just as much as she does and his tongue is pressing against her just right—

Her moans get louder, and higher, and faster, and it just seems to spur him on, encourage him to suck on her clit harder and harder, faster and faster, fuck, fuck—

She comes with a wail of his name, holding onto his hair for dear life, thrusting hard against his mouth. It keeps going and going, and he’s making quiet noises against her, maybe because he likes having his hair pulled too, she doesn’t know, but oh god—

Even when it’s over, he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, hard and fast, until she pushes him away from her with trembling hands.

“Aww, too much?” he teases.

“Shut up,” she breathes.

There’s that deep laugh again, then she hears him stand up. She keeps her eyes firmly shut; she can’t handle seeing his stupid self-satisfied smirk right now. Not after everything.

The mattress dips under his weight as he sits down next to her. He exhales, almost reverently. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her eyes snap open. “Huh?”

He stares at her so intensely, like he’s trying to burn every inch of her into his memory. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Then he’s kissing her again, a hand underneath her, sliding under her shirt, up her back. He runs his hands over every inch of her.

“Shinji,” she breathes against him, “what—”

He pulls away. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Well… kinda. They both already… you know.

“You thought that was enough for me?” he asks.

“Wasn’t it…?” she says uncertainly.

“Not even close.”

That’s all he says before he’s kissing her again. His hands trail down her torso, undo her tie and unbutton her shirt, push the fabric aside so he can see her. His heated gaze trails along her body, making her clit throb all over again.

“Unhooks in the front, huh?” he says when he sees her bra. “Lucky me.” Then he’s unhooking it with one hand—Jesus—and his fingers are pinching and rolling one of her nipples and his mouth is latched onto the other.

She arches into the touch, and she knows he’ll tease her for it, but she just can’t help it. His hands on her feel so good, even though they’re a little cold, because she’s been wanting this for so long…

His hand eventually leaves her breast and trails down her body, presses against her crotch, slides under her skirt. He releases her nipple and lets out a shaky breath. “So wet…”

“W-Well, what do you expect?!” she stammers. Everything he’s doing…

He slips his hand into her underwear, fingers teasing outside her entrance, and she squirms. He chuckles. “Guess I didn’t expect it to be so easy.”

“Shut—” she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp when he suddenly shoves a finger in her. He thrusts it in and out a few times, curls it against something deep inside her that feels so good. His fingers are so much longer than hers, and his cock is so much thicker than his fingers, wouldn’t it feel even better if he—

She accidentally squeezes around his finger as she imagines it. He chuckles. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

She glares at him. “Nothing.”

“Is it me?” he teases. “How I’d feel inside you?”

“N-No,” she lies.

“You’re a bad liar,” he chides, and she can’t refute it because he’s sliding another finger into her and the stretch is so good she cries out. His thumb starts circling her clit as his fingers curl inside her, and she’s starting to get lightheaded again.

His fingers explore every inch of her cunt, press against places she’s never been able to reach before, and she can’t help but squeeze around them, trying to pull them deeper, even when he teases her for being needy.

She at least manages to snark something back. A breathless, “As if you don’t like it too.”

His eyes narrow just the tiniest bit; she knew it. Before she can latch onto that, make fun of him some more, finally fucking get him back—god—he’s kissing her again. Maybe because he wants to stop her from saying that or maybe because he just couldn’t hold back anymore. Maybe both.

When he pulls away, she can hardly breathe, much less speak. He got what he wanted. He keeps whispering sweet nothings in her ear, telling her how good she was earlier when she sucked him off, how warm and wet her mouth was, how he can’t wait to fuck her, feel how tight she’ll squeeze around him.

She desperately clenches around his fingers at the words. He laughs and teases her for it, latches onto the fantasy, starts telling her how good it will feel for them both, his cock deep inside her, her cunt sucking him in.

“You talk… a big game,” she pants. “Can you back it up?”

He raises his eyebrows, eyes twinkling. “That a challenge?”

She narrows her eyes, and that answers his question just fine.

He chuckles. “When I’m through with you, sweetheart… you’re not even gonna remember your name. You’ll only remember mine.”

Her eyes widen. She wishes she was experienced like him, that way she could be taking the lead, be the one ordering him around, finding out what he likes and making fun of him for everything he lets slip. Maybe she can do that next time.

But this time, at the mercy of his fingers curling inside her and thumb pressing against her clit, all she can do is whine and come again.

When it’s over, she’s panting, resting on his pillow, and he kisses her again. He trails kisses along her jaw, down her neck, stopping and sucking marks here and there. Possessive, just like she knew he would be. He takes her clothes off slowly, methodically, until her top half is bare before him. He kisses down it too, laving his tongue over her nipples until she’s panting and squirming again.

Then he kisses down her stomach, tongue dipping into her navel; she shudders. It’s so sensitive, so intimate, she can’t believe he’s… doing that…

He eventually moves on, pulls her skirt and underwear down her legs, throws them somewhere, and then she’s naked. He worships every inch of her body, his hands, his lips, his tongue, mapping out the curves of her neck, her waist, her hips.

He kisses her again, slow and deep, hands running all along her body, everywhere they can get.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers against her lips. Then he’s kissing down her body again, but with intention now, not taking his sweet time, a clear destination in mind.

He spreads her lips and dives in again, tongue dipping inside, thrusting in and out, then moving up to lavish attention on her clit. She holds on tight to his hair, terrified she’ll float away otherwise. He devours her like her body is this succulent feast he’s been starving for, and he even moans a bit while he does it too. Fuck…

He eventually pushes a finger into her, hums happily at how easily it slides in. She tightens her hold on his hair, forces him to stay there so he can’t pull back and make fun of her again. He doesn’t fight it, just curls his fingers against that spot and sucks on her clit until she’s thrashing underneath him.

He draws another orgasm out of her that way, fingers attacking that spot inside her with surgical precision, tongue relentless against her clit. She arches her back and comes with a sob of his name. He lets her ride it out, lets her push herself against him until she collapses back on the bed.

But even then he’s not done. When she opens her eyes again, he’s leaning over her.

“You’re gonna know how frustrated you’ve been making me feel,” he murmurs. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. “I won’t stop until you do.”

Then she’s squirming on his fingers again, and he’s whispering in her ear every little thing she did to deserve this—her laugh, her smile, the way she begs and pleads for him to share every time he makes himself some food.

“I wonder if you’ll sound like that in here too. When you beg for my cock,” he murmurs.

“As—if,” she strains to say.

He laughs, low and deep. “Well, aren’t you feisty, still talkin’ back three fingers deep.”

His words make her clench around them. He rubs her clit with his thumb, slowly, leisurely. Like he doesn’t even care about making her come.

And fuck, maybe he doesn’t, because his fingers keep exploring, fast and then slow, firm and then gentle, like he’s trying to figure out every single noise she can make.

“Bet everyone’d be so jealous if they knew I had you underneath me right now,” he says, and she squirms harder on his fingers.

“N-No they wouldn’t,” she grumbles.

“You don’t even know, do you?”

“What’re you talking about…” she breathes.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. ’Cause tonight…” he leans closer and whispers in her ear, “you’re mine.”

“Only tonight?” she pants, trying to smirk up at him even though she can’t stop squeezing his fingers.

There’s just briefest flash of vulnerability behind his eyes. He leans down and kisses her, slow and deep. When he pulls away, he looks into her eyes and says, “Starting tonight.”

She smiles; she likes being his. She likes him being hers too.

His gaze softens as he looks down at her. His thumb speeds up against her clit and it barely even takes a minute for her to shatter underneath him, again. Like he could have made her come whenever he wanted, and something about what she said just now was enough to earn it.

He’s got his usual smirk on again by the time it’s over.

“Already?” he teases, like he didn’t fucking do that on purpose. He pulls his fingers out of her and she whimpers. “You’re so sensitive.”

“B-Because of you!” she snaps, face flushing.

He chuckles darkly, looking so goddamn proud of himself. He presses the pad of his finger against her clit again and she yelps and squirms, trying to move away.

But he doesn’t let her.

She shakes her head, whimpers, “Shinji, I can’t, it’s too much—”

“You can take it, sweetheart, I know you can,” he murmurs.

She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes. He keeps encouraging her, soothing her, calling her a good girl when his finger slips in, telling her how good she looks and sounds and tastes.

It doesn’t stay too much for long, the overstimulation quickly fading to pleasure under his talented tongue and fingers.

She can’t believe how much he’s been holding back. All this time, all those evenings they spent together, and all this was hiding just beneath the surface.

One part of her is amazed by it.

Another is frustrated. They could have been doing this ages ago.

At least he seems to be making up for lost time.

She sees stars when she shatters for him again, and when she finally comes back to herself, she hears something, like fabric rustling. She forces her eyes open.

He’s kneeling over her; she blinks a few times, trying to get her eyes to focus. Her eyes widen when she realizes he’s naked, she can see every inch of him, his broad chest and muscled arms and toned abdomen, his cock, hard and heavy between his legs. She can’t tear her gaze away from it; she desperately clenches around nothing.

“Oh yeah? What?” He smirks. “You want it?”

She nods, wide-eyed. He grabs her by the chin and tilts her head up; she casts her gaze down.

He chuckles. “You’re so greedy… you think you deserve it?”

She looks up at him, blinking. “Huh?”

“I made you come five times.” Of course the bastard kept count. “What’ve you done for me, huh?”

She doesn’t know what to say, she doesn’t know what to do, she can’t think straight, her cunt is throbbing and she can see him twitching too, why won’t he just—

He tilts his chin up, looks down. “Earn it.”

“How,” she says, pretending it doesn’t come out more as a sob.

His eyes narrow. “Beg.”

She glares at him. “No.”

She won’t sink that low. She still has some pride left.

“Guess you don’t want it that bad then, huh?” He rubs his cock against her entrance, teasing, taunting. Smearing her wetness everywhere. She whimpers.

“I do… want it,” she says shakily.

“Then. Beg.”

She gets wetter at the command, and sees him smirking too, knows he felt it.

“You liked my fingers, didn’t you?” One of his hands caresses her thigh, spreads her even wider. His cock presses right against her entrance, heavy and aching, and she makes the most pathetic noise. It only makes his wolfish grin widen. She keeps waiting for him to slip inside, finally—finally—she’s so wet, it would be so easy, why isn’t he— “This’ll feel even better. I promise.”

A wrecked, “Please…” slips out of her.

“Oh, come on,” he laughs, “you can do better than that. Do you even want it that bad?”

Something in her finally snaps. She blinks tears out of her eyes as the shaky words tumble out of her, “I do, I do want it, I need it, Shinji, please, give it to me, please, please…”

“Oh, good enough,” he sighs, like she can’t feel him throbbing against her. “I’ll let you get away with that. This time.”

She rolls her eyes; she can’t believe he’s acting like this now, after what he just made her do. “Oh, you’re so generous, senpai, thank you so—”

He doesn’t let her finish that sentence. He shoves his cock into her in one rough thrust, and it’s so deep, so thick, stretching her so wide, filling her so full. Her toes curl and her back arches and her hands fist in the sheets. The noise she lets out is loud enough to be a scream.

“Well, Jesus, wake the whole dorm, why don’t you?” he scolds, but he looks so fucking smug.

She holds a hand over her mouth. She doesn’t want to wake the whole dorm, and she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction either.

He grabs both of her wrists and pins them above her head. She tries to fight it, but he holds her down. Easily. Fuck…

“Y’think I give a shit about those guys when I got you right here?” He chuckles. “You’re cute.”

She tries to think of something to say back, something clever, something cutting, then he thrusts his hips and hits something deep inside her she’s never felt before and she just can’t think anymore.

He hisses through his teeth. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

That’s a good thing, right? She can feel him, hot and throbbing inside her. His eyes are closed, he’s gritting his teeth, his arms are shaking. Like he’s (still) trying to hold back. He’s panting just as hard as she is. Finally.

When he opens his eyes, he stares down at her, gaze completely unguarded for the first time tonight. He’s shattered her so many times already, but only now does she see that she shattered him too. Maybe even before tonight.

In his eyes, she can see everything he feels, things he probably can’t find the words for. Trust, and care, and desire, and need, and… maybe even love too.

He proves it to her when he leans down and seals his lips over hers, in the way his tongue caresses her own. She’s moaning into his mouth and he’s moaning into hers too, because his hips are getting into a rhythm now and it feels so good, but he can’t seem to tear his mouth away from hers, and she doesn’t want to either.

She’d be touching him if she could, but he’s still holding her wrists above her head, pushing them into the mattress, using them for leverage as he shoves his cock deep into her. She doesn’t have it in her to fight anymore, to pretend like she doesn’t like it, to pretend like she never imagined him holding her down and using her like this.

But she never could have predicted how good this feels.

His cock drags against that spot inside her, over and over, until her vision starts to blur. She feels something coiling deep inside, and she’s not sure what, but it feels so good. She starts moving too, thrusting her hips against his, chasing the feeling. She wraps her legs around him.

He’s kissing her with every thrust in, like he just can’t help himself.

“Fuck,” he groans between kisses. “So good, so hot, so wet, fuck, Kotone—”

Hearing his voice so hoarse and raw makes her clench harder around him. She’s babbling too, curses and mindless cries of his name swirling together until she doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore.

“You gonna be good?” he pants against her mouth. “You gonna come for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes, for you,” she sobs.

“Fuck,” he groans, and it sounds like it’s scraped from the bottom of his lungs.

He picks up the pace even more, fucks her harder, faster, each thrust dragging against that spot inside her begging to be touched. She wants to come, she wants to come for him, be good for him just like he said, she’s so close—the pressure is building up deep inside her, a warm feeling spreading through her cunt, her lower stomach, even her legs—

He suddenly hits it dead on, and something detonates inside her. She arches her back and tenses every muscle in her body as the pleasure explodes out of her. She screams, cunt spasming uncontrollably around his cock, legs trembling as slick gushes out of her, soaking her thighs, his hips, the sheets—

“Kotone—you’re—fuck,” he’s panting, looking down at her in awe. “Good girl, good girl—fuck, fuck—”

She sobs as it rushes through her, as the liquid pours out of her. He pounds into her ruthlessly all the while, but he’s not running his mouth off anymore—just moaning, louder than she ever knew he could be.

He finally slows down and loosens his grip on her wrists when he hears her whines and whimpers fade to pants. She relaxes against his pillow.

He’s panting too. Maybe even harder than she is. He releases her lips and just rests his head against her shoulder. She can feel him shaking.

“Fuck,” he rasps weakly. “You fucking squirted… That’s so fucking hot…”

She wraps her arms around him; she needs him close. She didn’t even know she could do that.

They’re both quiet for a few moments. Then he pulls back and presses another kiss to her lips, sweet and slow.

When she opens her eyes, she’s surprised to find the stern look on his face. Any trace of vulnerability is gone; he stares down at her with cold eyes, and she suddenly feels like she’s about to get in trouble.

Each word is slow. Deliberate. “Did I say you could do that?”

Her eyes widen. Her whole body burns with shame. “But—you—”

His eyes narrow. “You shouldn’t’ve done that.” He fucks into her again, hard.

She cries out, blinks tears out of her eyes—it’s too much, she can’t, Shinji—

“Yeah you can,” he growls. “Do it right this time. You don’t come ’til I do.”

“Y-You told me to—you made me—it’s your fault!” she tries.

“My fault?” he repeats with a derisive laugh. “My fault my cock felt so good you just couldn’t control yourself?”

“Yes!” she exclaims.

“My fault you got the sheets all wet?” he continues, voice dipping to an even lower octave, that damn smirk on his face.

Her eyes widen and her face burns. She tears her gaze away from his, but that doesn’t help. He starts thrusting his hips again and her face burns even hotter as she hears the slick noises coming from between her legs. It’s so much louder now, the filthy, wet slap of skin on skin. It’s so embarrassing…

He’s been saying shit all night about how frustrated she makes him, telling her all the little things she does that just make him want to fuck her until his name is the only word she knows, but she wishes he knew she feels the exact fucking same. Every time she makes him smile, every time he laughs at one of her jokes, the way sweat beads on his brow when they fight Shadows and how he wipes it away with the back of his hand, wearing those stupid fucking fingerless gloves, the way his chest heaves after a difficult fight—but what drives her even crazier than all that, what drives her crazier than anything—

It’s the way she knows he’s always holding something back. The way his hand will reach toward her sometimes and suddenly think better of it. The way he’ll laugh and smile and then get all embarrassed, like he thinks he doesn’t deserve to feel something like that. The way he held her close so she wouldn’t get cold at the shrine after she gave him his watch back, only to shrink away and pretend it didn’t happen afterwards.

How could she not be frustrated?

That’s why she pushed him so hard tonight to let her into his room. She’s done waiting. Even now, as he fucks her so hard she can’t see straight, it was all worth it. The waiting, the teasing—hell, even the Dark Hour—it was all worth it to be here, with him.

He’s nothing like she imagined he would be. She thought he would be more shy, like he gets when she reminds him that she likes spending time with him. But he’s anything but.

He somehow knows her, inside and out. Knows what she likes, knows how to touch her, without her even having to say anything. And that makes her fall even more in love with him.

At least she knows now that he’s been feeling the same this whole time.

She stops trying to hold in her noises. She just can’t anymore, he’s merciless, brutal, making it his life’s goal to fuck her brains out.

Tears start running down her cheeks—she tries desperately to blink them back, knows he hates it when she cries—

“Too much, princess?” he rasps.

She glares at him through her tears.

“C’mon,” he grunts. He throbs hard inside her. “I know you can take it.”

What? He… likes it?

Well, if she’s learned anything about him tonight… it’s that he’s a hypocrite.

She stops trying to hold them back, lets the tears flow, whines and whimpers and gasps, and he only fucks her harder for it.

He keeps teasing her, but she’s too far gone for it to be embarrassing at this point. Every little thing he says just adds to her pleasure.

“So wet, so tight,” he pants, “like you were made just for me.” A weak smile passes over his face when she involuntarily clenches around him. That earns her another breathless, “Good girl.”

“You got no idea how bad I’ve been wanting to do this to you,” he continues. “How hard it was to hold back.”

“Don’t, Shinji, don’t hold back, please—” she babbles.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I won’t.” His voice is trembling now, and it was trembling earlier too, when he was in her mouth. Is he—

“You’ve been so good for me all night,” he says. “You did so well, Kotone, fuck—”

“Shinji, please—” She doesn’t even know what she’s begging for.

“Yeah?” he says hoarsely. “You want it? Want me to fill you up? Want me to make you mine?”

She blinks a few tears out of her eyes and nods desperately. Some small part of her worries about getting pregnant, but another part, a stronger, louder part is telling her how hot that would be, to, to let him—to feel him—

“I’ll give it to you, but you gotta give me something too,” he pants.

“Anything, anything,” she whimpers.

“You’re gonna gush all over me again. Can you do that for me, princess?”

She nods desperately, wildly, “Yes, yes, Shinji, please—”

“Fuck,” he groans. He bends her practically in half, spreads her legs even wider, thrusts harder and harder, and she’s getting that tingling feeling again, that pressure building up inside, she's going to explode—

“Do it, Kotone, do it, let me feel you,” he breathes—quiet, so quiet, almost like he doesn’t want her to hear him.

When she breaks for him again, it’s even more powerful than before. The tingling feeling spreads from the base of her neck all the way out to her fingers and even down to her toes as she gushes for him again. She screams, back arching, cunt spasming around him, liquid uncontrollably pouring out of her.

“Fuck, look at you,” he pants, “fucking soaking me—”

His grip on her hips is tight enough to bruise, pace punishing and brutal as he takes his pleasure. He kisses her desperately, sucks on her tongue as his hips thrust with wild abandon.

She whines when she feels him pulsing deep inside her, and he’s moaning too, something low and guttural torn from the depths of his throat as he fills her up.

He collapses onto her, panting. She holds him tight, legs around his waist, arms around his neck.

He kisses away the tears running down her cheeks. Somehow that’s the most intimate thing he’s done to her tonight. She tries to shy away from it, but he doesn’t let her.

He eventually pulls out of her and lies down; she rests her head on his chest and wraps her arms around him. His fingers absentmindedly trace her waist.

“Goddamn,” she breathes.

He laughs weakly. “More than what you bargained for?”

She shakes her head. “It was perfect.”

“… Really?”

“Yeah. I’m… glad you let me in.” Even after everything, her face flushes at those words. She deflects from her embarrassment with a, “What took you so long?”

He scoffs, almost a laugh. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, we got here in the end.”

“Yeah. We did.” She can hear the smile in his voice. She’s never seen him so happy before. She never wants it to go away.

“You’re just so…” He sighs.

“So what?” she asks.

“Stubborn,” he finishes.

She giggles. She sits up to look at him, because she barely got a good look earlier, when he was fucking her so hard she couldn’t see straight. She sighs happily; she loves the way he looks right now. The light flush in his cheeks, the sweat gleaming on his chest, the relaxed expression on his face.

She loves him.

“Don’t…” he breathes. The calm expression suddenly gives way to anguish. “Stop looking at me like that.”

She sighs. “This again?”

He doesn’t respond. For the first time all night, he won’t look her in the eye. She cups his face, and her heart twists in her chest when she sees the guilt in his eyes.

“Shinji,” she whispers, leaning closer. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

He blinks quickly and shakes his head. “Kotone…”

“You don’t need to feel guilty,” she tells him. “I wanted this too.”

Before he can say anything else stupid, she kisses him. He melts against her lips, tilts his head to deepen the kiss, then—

Then pushes her away. He won’t even look at her. She can’t believe he has the audacity to act like this now, after everything he did.

He’s shaking his head again, like if he does it enough she’ll hate him just like he does.

But she doesn’t hate him. And she’s tired of him hating himself.

“You’d… be happier with someone else,” he whispers. His voice sounds so strained, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself too. “Aki—”

“I don’t want him, Shinji,” she says firmly. “I want you.”

“Don’t bother with someone like me,” he mumbles.

“Stop it. I already told you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well maybe you should,” he snaps.

Her heart twists in her chest. It burns behind her ribs, in the corner of her eyes.

Before she knows it, she’s lashing out. The crack of the blow is deafening in the quiet room.

“Seriously?! Are you kidding me? After everything?” Her voice trembles. She glares at him. “Do you not know when to shut up?”

He opens his mouth, looking sad but not sorry, and—fully cognizant—she slaps him again. “Shut up, Shinjiro! I don’t wanna hear it again! Not…” She sighs.

She slaps him again; it’s softer, doesn’t echo like the other ones, but she’s still so frustrated.

He’s staring up at her with wide eyes. His cheeks are red, both of them. She didn’t realize she hit both.

She doesn’t care. She’s tired of him hating himself. If she can’t convince him not to, she can at least convince him that she loves him.

Because she does love him. And if words won’t get it through to him, then maybe actions will.

She takes in his appearance again; his eyes are dark and his chest is heaving. As her anger begins to fade, she’s starting to remember… she only hit the left side of his face.

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh?” She throws a leg over him and his chest heaves harder. She slaps him again, and feels something twitch against her leg. “Oh? You like that, Shinji?”

He shakes his head, and she slaps him again. She chuckles when she feels him throb against her thigh. “That’s for lying. Try again.”

For how badly he was trying to avoid her gaze earlier, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away now.

She feels something curling low in her gut, something primal and predatory. She thinks she understands how much he loved putting her in her place now.

She thinks it’s his turn.

She grinds her hips down as she slaps him again, and he whimpers. He fucking whimpers.

“You like this,” she breathes. He opens his mouth, and she knows he’s about to deny it, so she slaps him again, grinds her hips down to hear that pathetic whimper of his. “You had so much shit to say about what I liked, but you? You like being slapped around.”

He can deny it all he wants. If he really didn’t like it, he wouldn’t be throbbing hard against her thigh right now. If he really didn’t like it, he wouldn’t let her do this to him. If he really didn’t like it, he wouldn’t be looking up at her with those big, wet eyes of his, begging her to do it again.

“Strongest guy on the team likes getting hit,” she teases. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Kotone—” he cuts himself off with a whimper as she slaps him. She can feel him twitching again.

“Should’ve seen it coming,” she continues. “Is this why you and Sanada-senpai go at it so often?”

He shakes his head desperately. “N-No—”

“Just me, then?” she asks, smug, a wolfish grin sliding onto her face.

He just stares at her. He doesn’t shake his head, and that’s as good as screaming yes for him.

His left cheek is finally redder than the right one. She gently rubs her palm against the inflamed flesh, and he shudders underneath her.

She leans down towards him. “Why don’t we see what other weaknesses you have, eh, Shinji?”

His eyes widen, enough to make her believe that there’s more, maybe something he’s even more embarrassed by. She raises her eyebrows. Her hands wander across the wide expanse of his chest; she watches his face closely for any sign of reaction. His eyes widen just briefly when she gets closer to one specific part of him. She blinks curiously, then grinds her palms against his nipples.

He squeezes his eyes shut and squirms, like he’s simultaneously trying to arch into the touch and run away from it.

But she’s pinning him down. There’s nowhere to run to. Not anymore.

“You’re sensitive here, huh?” she murmurs as she runs the pads of her fingers in circles around the buds. They pebble and harden under her touch. He shudders. “Guess we have that in common.”

“Shut up,” he breathes. She pinches; his eyes open wide and his back arches, mouth open in a voiceless gasp. He’s throbbing against her leg again.

“I think,” she says in a low tone, “it’s your turn to shut up.” She grips his cock firmly in one hand, rolls a nipple between thumb and forefinger in the other, and he makes a choked noise.

She chuckles. “You’re so hard, Shinji.”

“S-So what?” he stammers.

“Just from that?” she teases. “And you say I’m sensitive.”

He looks like he’s about to say something smart again, so she lines his cock up with her entrance, rubs herself along the head. He lets out a shaky exhale, looks up at her pleadingly.

Not yet, she thinks. But soon. She leans down and laves her tongue over the buds, grinding her cunt against him until he’s squirming underneath her again.

She likes how he looks underneath her. Likes that he’s finally fucking quiet. No more teasing, no more pushing her away. She doesn’t know how long she’ll have him like this for, so she lines him up again because she just can’t stand it anymore.

He cries out when she sinks down around him. She makes a few breathy noises too, none as loud as his. She lifts herself up onto her knees, then drops herself back down, trying to find a good rhythm. He’s so fucking vocal now, no more teasing words or cruel laughs, just choked moans and shuddering sighs as she takes what she wants.

“Yeah, just lie there and take it,” she pants. “You can’t accept that I love you? Too fucking bad. Because I do. And there’s nothing you can say or do to change that. I love you, Shinji.”

“Stop—saying it,” he pants. “I get it already.”

“No. I won’t stop. I love you.”

He throbs hard inside her, voice trembling, and she knows he’s close.

“That’s it, Shinji,” she says. “You love me too, I know you do. Show me.”

She doesn’t give him time to respond, just moves faster, harder, impaling herself on his cock. She keeps murmuring how much she loves him and all it does is push him closer and closer to the edge. Maybe if she tells him like this he’ll finally get it through his thick skull.

His eyes suddenly open wide, then he’s pulling her down, holding her tight against him, crushing his lips against hers, cock throbbing and pulsing inside her. He moans her name as he comes, and it almost sounds like a sob.

When she pulls herself off him, he’s finally too tired to say any of that shit anymore. She can see in his eyes that he understands now too. She’s not going anywhere.

And he lets her stay. He kisses her as his fingers caress her body. His hand reaches between her legs, and neither of them speak as he shatters her one last time.

They finally understand each other. No other words need to be said.

She sleeps in the next morning. Being in Shinji’s arms, in Shinji’s bed, is so nice. And she doesn’t have any commitments until tonight anyway, so when she wakes up and sees that it’s only eight, she snuggles up to him and goes back to sleep.

She doesn’t know how much time passes, but she feels someone brushing her hair back, placing a kiss on her forehead. She sighs happily; Shinji. She pretends to be asleep, because if he found out she’s awake, he’d stop.

Then the hand suddenly leaves. She blearily blinks her eyes open. There’s a shadow at the door. He put his coat and hat back on. His back is to her, and he’s gripping the doorframe.

He looks over his shoulder, bangs obscuring his eyes. “I… love you. And I’m…” He sighs heavily. “I… I love you.”

His hand reaches for the doorknob and she realizes that he’s leaving—but he can’t leave, not now, not after everything, he didn’t even give her a chance to say it back—

She frantically pushes through the fog of sleep— “Wait!”

“Damn it,” he whispers. He turns around to face her.

She sits up and wraps the sheet around herself. “Where are you going?”

It takes him a moment to respond. “Was gonna go prepare for tonight.”

Her eyes flick to the clock on the wall; there’s plenty of time until then. She crooks her finger towards him and he moves closer. He sits on the edge of his bed.

She places a hand on his face, then leans in for a kiss. Gentle, sweet, kind. Nothing like what they shared last night. She presses her forehead against his. “I love you too, okay?”

He stares at her, then his arms suddenly wrap around her in a tight hug. It feels so good to be held by him, to be surrounded by him. She feels so safe in his arms.

It looks painful to let her go. She wishes he hadn’t. “Kotone, I… I need to tell you—”

She puts her finger over his lips and shakes her head. “I don’t wanna hear it. Just tell me you’ll be al…” She trails off when she sees the way his face twists. He looks… haunted. Almost… afraid?

“Can you at least tell me you’ll see me later?” she tries.

A shadow of guilt passes over his face. “I can’t promise that…”

She shakes her head exasperatedly. Still trying to push her away, even now. “Can you try?”

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

She grins and throws her arms around his neck. That’s enough for her. He’s enough for her. She plants another few kisses on his lips, murmuring, “If that’s the best you can do, then I’ll take it.”

He kisses her harder, desperately trying to tell her everything he can’t find the words for. She can’t find the words either, but that’s all right. They understand each other just fine.

They’re both panting when he pulls away. He stares at her like she hung the moon in the sky. How long has he wanted to look at her like that? How long has he been hiding it from her?

At least he’s not hiding anymore. He’s finally, finally being honest with her. Maybe even with himself too.

Being here with him like this is making her feel all giddy inside.

She giggles. “Now tell me you love me again?”

He turns all red. “I… you weren’t supposed to hear that…”

“Well, I did! Now say it again,” she insists.

He smiles and shakes his head. “I…”