ââ â ! â FLUIDITY
tw. dubcon, monsterfucking, explicit size kink, interspecies sex, reader has sex pollen like effects, communication barrier, manipulation, yandere (other parts will contain a lot more explicit dark kinks so please read every individual part's warnings!)
wordcount. 8.7k
part 1 of â
a/n. âĄâĄ thank you so much rhi for keeping me going through this, idk if i would have pushed through if not for you so ily ily ily and this fic is just indulgence as a period piece and a monsterfucking fic but i hope you give it a chance and like it bc there's moresomes a-coming and this is just the beginning so! yeA i hope you guys enjoy mwuah mwuah mwuah âĄâĄ
tachibana makoto x fem!reader ( x other characters coming)
Dragonflies glint the prettiest, richest silver youâve ever seen under the right light. The rosy evening sun casts the entire river into a blooming glowâ complete with a soft blanket of fog that rolls along the base of the trees. âYour maiden servants worry about you, you know,â a voice softly calls, and the rustle of shrubbery makes you turn.
You donât really want to know how long the manâs been guarding you without a word. If it were anyone but one of your fatherâs most trusted men, youâd probably have some distrust. Instead you only pull your knees to your chest, and continue tossing rocks into the babbling brook.
âLady, itâll get dark soon. Your parents donât want you playing out here so late.â
The small area isnât open enough to lure any visitors. Youâd be fine. Still, you slowly bob your head, waiting for him to step away from the tree edge into the river bank with you. âI had a weird dream, only it didnât feel like a dream.â The reeds sway in the wind, and you almost let the perfect surrounding whisk away the thought. But the manâs hand drops from his sword, and he gives the faintest of nods. âThere was a monster here when I fell asleepâ one with a huge mouth packed full of teeth. I saw eyes in the water, and hair so long it covered its whole body.â The tart remnants of your delicately applied makeup wash away as you swallow. âI think- it was a yokai.â
âThereâs no yokai here, lady,â he patiently responds, and you turn to him better. This time taking a proper look. If the damp hair tied in a bun is anything to go off of, he was most likely called out of his bath to come out looking for you. You bite your lip, apology lingering on your tongue. But thatâs where it stays, as the man continues. âThereâs monsters only where people donât go. You neednât worry.â
âAre you comforting me?â A slight giggle passes your lips before you can help it. âI know you think Iâm lying. You donât believe anything you donât see with your own eyes.â
â... Itâs not for a lack of trying.â He smooths a hand over his hakama, before resting it back on the pristine handle of his sword. The dragonflies buzz over the low edge of the water, and your feet ache a little from the cold. Youâd love to ask to be carried right about now, but spare the poor man the effort. Itâs the least you can do. After another few minutes of silence and watching the sun disappear entirely below the tree line, he finally clears his voice. âCome on, lady. We should really get back. Youâre precious to your parents. Youâre precious to us all. I canât leave you here.â
This river runs from the high mountains all the way through the small lake that borders the gates of your home; and all the way down the lowlandsâ and itâs said that on the day of your birth the river flooded, and provided the most bountiful harvest of the last few decades. Even as a child, there was no ignoring the gleeful whispering of the ladies, nor the calculated introductions of sons of poorer lords at every birthday or feast. Some day not too long from now you will get married and spread providence over the land⊠and there wonât be time for napping by rivers or running off half-dressed into the forest.
Somehow, despite the honor, a small part of you goes cold at that. The water glistens under the last of the lightâ and you take a long look into the deep of it. The eyes the color of hot coals flash through your mind once more, and you start pulling the fabrics of your dresses aside to put your zori back on. âI know it was a monster- but-â The wind picks up when you turn over your shoulder and smile your most genuine smile. âI wasnât scared, I think. Perhaps it was friendly.â
The guard is quiet as he watches you get up from the riverbank, and sticks a comfortable distance after helping you gently up onto your feet. You suppose he doesnât really have the heart, or perhaps confidence, to tell you what he really thinks of your childish talk. The barely-there path back to your home has you growing much more tiredâ as if weights are tied to your legs. You wish you could stay. The moss crunches softly under your feet, and the dewy air starts to feel a bit cold to the touch. Despite everything, itâs always peaceful here. You cast a brief glance up to the man as he pushes the shrubbery aside. His face has a vacant sort of look, until he catches you looking, and his mouth curls up. âIâll tell your maiden servants to prepare a purifying ritual for you.â
âUgh, no, please. Anything but that.â
+
âThe koi fish arenât around anymore, are they, lady?â Thereâs a slight hesitation in her voice as your maid walks up.
You nod, lift your sleeves to brush your fingers through the water and wait. You got them as a present for your coming of age festivitiesâ the most beautiful blue grey with red finsâ much too expensive for your liking but a courting gift nonetheless. Youâd been quite fond of the walks out of your housesâ walls because of them. The feed floats sadly on the surface of the inlet, where the clear river water shows no sign at all of the normally curious animals. âIt seems like theyâve gone.â What a shame.
Your other maiden scans the area, before rushing to help you up onto your feet as she lowers her head. âShould we ask the master to procure some more? We know feeding the fish brings you much joy.â
The girl helps to fix your sleeves again, before awaiting your call. âNo, thatâs quite alright. Thereâs no use replacing a gift.â You cast a wary glance at the bay once more, not quite sure what youâre looking for; but fail to find anything out of the ordinary. A sight furrow comes to your brow, before you hike up your layers of skirts- much to the shock of your two servants- and turn to them with a softer smile. âI would like to be alone for a bitââ
âLady!â one of them squeaks, but you only laugh.
âI am certain, Hitsu. Tell my father I will be home before tea and dinner, and if you could prepare my bathâŠâ The dark brunette has a question on her tongue, but does nod with the same trained properness that youâve come to know. âI simply wish to walk along the river, I wonât swim. Itâll be quick, I promise.â Itâs not a lie. You have no intention of ruining your beautiful, expensive clothing by going any further than a shallow few steps. But thereâs a nagging memory somewhere in the back of your mindâÂ
You used to have so many dreams, all of them now too faint to recall. Both young ladies give each other a look, before eventually bowing deeply and heading back towards the palace gates.
See, that nagging sense that youâre forgetting something important, something crucial, overcomes you. Itâs almost impossible to ignore, and you kick off your shoes to tread carefully along the edge of the deep pool of fresh spring water. The moss is soft under your feet, keeping a tight grip on your embroidered silks.
When you were only a few years old, you used to have these dreams. Dreams of drowning, of ghouls and demons. They grew scarcer the older you got, and eventually even the weekly purification spells and chants became declared unnecessary. But where the memories once sat, now only a blank hole remains in your mind. And however hard you try to remember, you can never quite get there. You make it to the sloped edge of the river not much later, stepping up the small sputtering waterfall and a few round stones between stray bambooâ nearly still water pooling at your feet.
Itâs chilly, but not freezing. Something scratches in the back of your skull, deep down. It trickles down your neck, and with a steady heartbeat, it breathes.
But you canât catch the thought, and the harder you try, the cloudier it becomesâ eventually you click your tongue and start walking along the water edge up stream. You should look for your fish. If they swam out of the inlet somehow, maybe theyâd be around. They are, much like you are, bred for captivity and wouldnât survive too long on their own. The sun casts warm spring rays onto your skin, walking in much needed solitude. When you barely realize youâve spaced out, youâve already made it to a bend in the river where peach blossoms float on the otherwise pristine surface of the waterâ and despite your previous care, you drop your dress.
The blossoms swirl in slow circles. And a raindrop lands on your nose.Â
Arms, wrapped tight around your chest. Claws. Wide lashless eyes.
Something floods your brain so suddenly that you stumble back a few steps and gasp, sucking in a breath.
It was here. You canât exactly make out what, but your gut recognizes the trees, the scraggly stones sticking out of the water. Your lungs full of water, and hands all over.
Bumps rise all over your back as you look around, and water seeps up along your tarikubi robe. Itâs so quiet, and the stillness starts to trouble with each droplet that comes down. But you breathe. Youâve been here, perhaps more than once, and the aching, pressing itch deep in your head grows more unbearable. When a metallic flicker catches your eyes, you glance down. The rain now starts up more properly, and though the trees provide some shelter, thereâs no hiding away from the cold as you walk in just deep enough to bend and pick up a dainty golden chain from between the smooth rocks.
Itâs fine like thread, and cold to the touch, and though you canât quite explain it; something about this finely crafted piece is familiar too. Even through the rain and the chills crawling all the way up your spine, you study the necklace closer. The intricate detail is almost too pristine.
A soft splash on the other side of the river startles youâ The sudden scare makes you lose your balance and fall back onto your lower end. Hard. The ache immediately has you whimpering, but instead of worrying about the pain, you slowly try to catch yourself on the rocks; pained enough in the motion that you swear â you see a person diving underneath the water edge. Something pale and fast. You scream, and whatever you saw dashes away before you can think about doing different. The blossoms drift off as you scramble back up; your bruised palms sting, and your heartbeat still hammers hard in your throat when the silence returns.
But the blurry flash of maroon hair and fiery red eyes you caught is long gone.
And much too soon, the clouds that had seemed so fluffy and beautiful earlier turn a dreary grey. You turn on your heel and book it back down the river side on bare feetâ still clamping the chain between your fingers.
+
The wick of your lantern splutters with thick oil as you fail to catch sleep. Even with the spring weather itâs chilly, with you remaining wrapped under a thick blanket. You breathe a long sigh, and listen to the crackling of the candle beside your bed in the absence of any other sound. The earlier lecture of your father, your mother, and even the normally quiet and collected matron of the house still lingers on your mindâ itâs not like you can blame anyone. You wouldnât be the first stupid, brazen young girl who happened to drown, and despite the quiet lives most girls like you live, you most likely wonât be the last.
You shouldnât have been out there. Your servants had been ghastly pale from fright upon seeing the state in which you returned, and even the thorough scrubbing and hours-long bath didnât do much to alleviate the ache in your lower back.
Despite all that, youâre stuck. Eyes -monstrous, unnatural eyes- appear in the crevices of your mind each time you close your own. No amount of prayer makes the longing fade, and the longer you lay here, the deeper they seem to dig into your flesh. Goosebumps crawl all over your skin once more. When you throw your blankets off you, you go digging in one of the woven baskets for the thickest bland garments youâve gotâ tying them around your hips until youâre dressed enough to peer out into the hall. The frigid air current howls through the house when you gather your lantern, some woven socks, and after a brief bit of deliberation; snatch the golden chain from beside your pillow.
The palace is quiet at night, an almost eerie sort of calm that is broken only by the soft âpatsâ of your feet on the hardwoodâ with the lanterns barely providing enough light to see a good arms length at a time. The wind pushes you forward, nuzzling deeper into the collar of your clothing until you make it outside. Even under the starry sky, thereâs no doubt that this is a stupid idea. No good can come from nightly outings â though youâve seen girls come and go in similar ways under the cover of night, youâre quite sure their purpose was less out-for-trouble than you are now. But what else can you do?
How could you ever sleep soundly not knowing whatâs out there.
With only the flickering reflection on the water, you bow before your homeâ youâd be back soon enough. You love your clanâ and you have no intention of getting caught in long lectures twice in a night. The guards at the gates have no way of noticing you as you slip into the brush and cover the lamp from sight, as cold breaths form clouds before your eyes.
Your legs move almost instinctively until you come upon the peach tree, and the pretty white flowers rain down with the breeze. You place the candle by your feet; and hesitate before taking your own seat on a round rock right by the water edge. Youâve never seen a yokai. Not that you can remember at the very least, but if you would have-you didnât expect to here. Not the river that blessed your birth, or the one who gives everyone life by way of harvest. Maybe what you saw was a farmer bathing, or a particularly pale, large codâ wouldnât that make more sense. Isnât that exactly why you didnât tell your father?
Because naĂŻvity and silly wonder seems better than monsters lurking among the shrub.
Sadly, but perhaps unsurprisingly, a soft splashing in the water sets every hair on your body uprightâ and your mouth goes dry. Itâs so dark. So awfully dark that itâs hard to see even past your own feet, if not for the broken reflection of your candle in the water. You know it's there. You feel it, by the rancid sort of churning in your stomach, the rapid beating of your heart. You swallow the tightness in your throat as best you can. âIâve come to return your necklace. I didnât mean to steal it, so Iâve come to give it back.â You wish you could let your eyes grow used to the dark, but without candle light, itâd be so much harder to get back home in one piece.
After just the sounds of the river drag on, you slowly take another breath, and try to bite back the wetness that rises every time you try and fail to find the eyes you know are looking at you. âI donât wish to harm anyone.â The wind seems to howl harder across the river, and you canât fight the horrible visions of monsters all around you, just there in the darkness; tightening your hands into fists. âSo I wish you would not harm me either. You can have it back.â Your hand shakes when you hold out the chain above the waterâ not nearly far enough for anything to reach it without coming into your sight. But youâre too frightened to go any deeper, and your lungs tighten.
âPlease, I-â
The peaceful spluttering of the water is suddenly disrupted by a much louder splashing, and you freeze up with a sharp gasp, shoulders trembling despite yourself. You donât dare move any more than thatâ only after a minute or so of silence, you continue. âHello? Donât you want your necklace back?â
The reeds shake in the wind, and one of the blossoms brushes along your cheek as it falls into your crouched lap. Your breathing is tense enough to almost hide the little mumble that reaches back. Itâs soft, sweet like dripping honey, and makes your whole spine tingle. âWe want.â
If you had any less sense, youâd probably run right back home. But the idea of moving is too terrifying, so youâre stuck rooted in place as you take a breath. The voice sounds young enough, but the Japanese is distinctly older than your own dialect, rolling off the tongue with a vague foreign liltâ and it takes your frightened brain a little longer than you want to process that the voice isnât simply human. When another little splash sounds a bit closer, you pull your outstretched hand back to your chest. âCan you see me?â Your own voice wavers when trying to make out any shape in the river. Alas, itâs just so dark that any further effort hurts your eyes.
âYes.â
âIâve come to give back your necklace. I got scared and took it, Iâm sorry. I mean no harm-â
âHe told.â The voice is unbearably clear. Almost like itâs being spoken directly into your head, even though itâs just a mere whisper among the rippling water. Itâs distracting, and feels ice cold between your ears.
âWhoâs he?â you try, biting your lip. The river seems to stare back at you, and you canât do anything but hope you arenât making some horrible mistake. Are you supposed to talk to the monsters that go bump in the night? âI- I donât know where you are, I canât see you.â Despite the soft, gentle nature of the voice, your heart patters wildly, unable to let go of your fear when thereâs another closer splash. You must only be a dozen feet away from each other now, and still you canât even see past the water at your toes. The voice stays quiet for a while.
âYou donât see is ⊠better.â
You donât respond for even longer. But for whatever reason, you almost want to agree. Not seeing, he almost sounds like a childhood friend of yours. The soft, honeyed words arenât so frightening when you canât see what theyâre being spoken by; and you gather your last bit of courage to softly open your palm out again towards the night. âIâll throw it over to you. Can you catch it?â
âNo âthrowâ.â The -whatever- struggles with the word as he says it, before going quiet. Youâre not sure if he doesnât want you to throw it, or he simply doesnât understandâ so you just bite your lip and wait for any further comments that eventually do follow. âYou put paw- h-hand.â Then, after another breath, âCome.â With a slight tremble in your voice, you breathe out a little laugh. You are really being asked to be braver than any girl with sense wouldâ dragging your lantern closer over the pebbles until itâs right by your feet. Cursing yourself, you blink back nervous tears, trembling as you hike up the edge of your skirts, just the tiniest bit, and place only one foot into the shallowest part of the river for stability.
Your hand drops halfway outstretched, and you watch the flame where she glints back on the chain.
More splashing makes way for a more disturbing sound once it surfaces, of a body dragging over the shallow of the river towards you, scraping along the blunt stonesâ and you almost dart away when the sound comes close enough to reach. But your fingertips are almost frozen solid when another hand comes ever faintly into view, and wetness drops into your palm. To call it a hand is gracious, you decide. Thereâs longer digits, clawed, and webbed between each bony finger, and the wet glossy skin is more curved spike than thumb. The paw slides carefully along your hand, swiping up the chain as it goesâ and leaves a cold coating all over your palm that you snatch back too quickly.
Itâs unbearable to stay so close to something and not see it now, and you quickly hurry back to the safety of your rock as the same shuffling goes back to the water. Your heartbeatâs in your throat, and you canât find any polite words to offer it until the yokai speaks again.
âRin present, with- no, f-for you. You give present back, make happy. I am thank you.â Youâre welcome, you think, but you barely manage to paint on a little smile before wringing your hands together and picking your lantern back up for safekeeping.
âIâm heading home now. If Iâm not back soon my guards will find out.â It doesnât feel entirely appropriate to thank it for not killing you when it had ample chance to, so you stay quiet. But thereâs also a sense of gratitude that washes over you. Soon youâll be back in bed like all of this was a dream. That seems right. That seems good. Your tongue lingers on your words. âYou ⊠What's your name?â The river bank feels much safer now youâre back on solid ground, and you can see the peach blossoms you almost slipped on.
Thereâs another long pause, where you almost make a run for it back all the way home, before the voice sounds out again from the darkâ sugary sweet in its tone.
âMakoto.â
+
Youâre pretty sure you should be questioning your own sanity. Everyone else wouldnât hesitate to, and after the few restless nights youâve had, you should be staying as far away as you can. But curiosity, mixed with a slight sense of obligation, has you walking the river bank like a little droplet flowing back to the sea. The quiet, scruffy man following behind doesnât say much⊠never does, and you canât say you dislike it. But you feel the glances your way, distracting you. Soon you find yourself clearing your voice. âYouâre wondering why Iâm walking this same path again?â
The older man only hesitates for a moment. âNo, lady.â
âSure you are. I would wonder if I were you.â Thereâs a faint smile that makes its way up, glancing out over the babbling brook to your left as grass tickles your ankles. âNot too long now and Iâll be engagedâŠâ The peach blossoms above are almost done bloomingâ and youâve never known your father to be an indecisive man. âWalking gives me a little break from all the fussing attendants, and father's advisors. Which is why itâd be even better if I were alone-â
It doesnât take much pushback at all for the man to stop in place and give you a little look, resting his hand on the handle of his sword. âLady.â
âOh, please Azuma-san, weâve had this same conversation for years.â
âI am not to leave you unprotected-â
You turn on your heel to face him. âI want to swim.â The stubborn frown on his face doesnât move an inch, as your eyes go a little more puppy-esque. You have to know, so you have to lie. It doesnât bring you joy either, but you might go insane if you have to live with questions for the next twenty years barred in some fancy prison of your future husbandâs making. â-Swim right here. Without my very expensive clothing getting ruined.â Still that stone wall refuses to budge, and you throw your last bit of dignity into the ring. If this was anyone else youâd never hear the end of your unrefined words. âSo I am going to get undressed.â
ââAg-lright, just quiet. Your servants hear you and Iâll be lynched in the square.â He sighs deeply, rubbing his hand over his scruff, then gives a little bow. He wants nothing more than to roll his eyes when you offer back a self-satisfied grin, but instead takes a few steps the way you came with a stern look. âIâll ask one of your maiden servants to make her way over here.â
âDonât tell her to hurry!â you chant back, only taking off the heaviest layer of clothing once heâs out of sight. You lay it safe out of reach, before kicking off your shoes and socks and waddling towards the big stones again. Sure enough, the river here is a lot deeper than it looks. Thereâs a ledge in the pool thatâs dark enough for almost any kind of monster to hide. This at least means your midnight escape wasnât a total delusion. The peaceful sway of water grass settles when you dip your toes in the water, and wonder. Thereâs only a brief few minutes where you sit to think, before a slight thrashing once again captures your attention.
Only when you look up, the river is still, safe for a few tiny fish jumping out of the water. You get up, and tie your skirts up higher to inspect. A large maroon shape darts away into the darkness before you can take a good look, splashing droplets all over the river bankâ and you hold your breath. You arenât crazy. That definitely was much larger than any fish youâve ever seen, and such a brilliant color that nothing but yokai could possess it. Brighter than all the finest silks, shimmering like a mirror. You wait for what could be a few seconds or an hour, before⊠someone- something else starts coming up from the darkness.
The olive-golden glitter rises so slow you have no choice but to take in another breath, but luckily donât scare it away. His light chestnut hair is chopped short-ish, and a strangely human faceâ with cloudy black eyes, and green gashes either side of his neckâ where he hovers below the water surface. Itâs not human though. The eyes are big, round and deer-like, nose flatter, and his skin seems almost pearlescent. You donât have the ability to think if youâre brave or just frozen solid. But whatever the case, the humanesque monster seems to stare for quite a while before judging it safe enough to approach.
Itâs only then that you get to see the full extent of his body, scaled from ribs down, with a snake-like bottom half thatâs at least longer than your entire body, and ending in a beautiful fish-like tail that feathers out in glittering threads. âOhâŠâ you breathe, and your arms wrap around yourself for protection, but you still donât move further. Canât, more like.
The half-man is close enough -and real enough- to feel a bit nauseating. Close enough to set every hair on your body on end and have your heartbeat a wild patter. But itâs the voice that really makes you feel frigid, gulping for air when that soothing tone comes out of a monstrous mouth. Whatever you had expected to see⊠wasnât this. You canât make out if the near-resemblance is comforting, or more frightening. You shiver at the black tongue, against porcelain white teeth.
âYou come back.â
Your nod is hesitant, and you fidget with your jewelry in an attempt to calm your nerves. âI- wanted to see who Iâd been talking to, that night. I havenât slept well since then.â
He hoists himself a little further out of the water onto both hands, clawed and boney. âThat was you, right? Makoto?â The brunet only gives a single nod of response, and doesnât take his dark eyes off you for a second. And you want to laugh, though it isnât too funny. The scene is just so absurd that you have nothing else to do, but laugh. âIsnât this weird, talking to each other? How come yokai speak Japanese?â your voice comes, and you only hear how childish you sound when it seems to hang over the river without answer.
Out of all the questions you can ask, thatâs what is most important to you? Makoto is gracious as he scoots a little closer once again, scraping his long, heavily muscled tail up over the pebbles and stones. âI listen very many year. Always listen, listen woman, listen warrior, listen you.â He blinks, and blondish lashes are the only normality you have staring back at him. âAll canât speak like me. I -hmm, pras-â
âPractice?â you try, and he clearly agrees when his tail pats happily on the ground. When you smile, he grins back wide and kind, his teeth are much sharper than yours. Thereâs something so human about the look, that you feel your muscles unwind a little further. You suppose, if he wasnât so strange looking, with the wrong shades and fins here and there; heâd be quite handsome. Heâd go over well with the maiden servants in the clan, too. âMany years, huh? Then- How old are you?â
âHmmm- old. VeryâŠâ He doesnât seem it, though. You avert your eyes when the water flicks over your feet, slowly dropping your shoes to the side. When you look back, heâs gotten closer yet, and is reaching out his hand towards the edge of the water, towards you. Despite your hesitation, and slight disgustâ scaly and seemingly frost bitten pale lips, and unnatural greenish marks along his neck that flare out and inâ thereâs something that makes you want to follow.
A call, or instinct, to glide into the water and feel it embrace you. âYou want come in?â he prompts, softly, and you do. You arenât much of a swimmer even in high summer, and yet. You find yourself closing the distance and reaching out for his hand, letting your fingertips glide along as you get up to your knees into the water, and then get pulled along further step by unsure step. âGood, come.â
âAh- itâs cold!â you squeak, but Makotoâs fingers wrap around your hand to support you even when you get almost up to your chest into the river, water crawling up your clothing and making your chest feel tight. âSh- it's so cold.â
âWater not cold. You warm.â Only when he comes up in front of you do you truly notice how much bigger he is. His hands dwarf yours, and even though youâre higher up, his tail is curved aside to fit on the ground so he stares down at youâ covering the sun from your view. He towers over any man youâve ever seen, and his human-esque top half is still much broader than most. Like a hard plane of muscle, marked with thousands of golden freckles that shift in color the longer you look.
Shivers climb up your legs, and the water seeps your energy out of you. Wrapping your free arm around yourself, you rub some heat into your skin. Those pale lashes flutter as he gives you a half lidded glance, and the freckles that also go across his cheeks color a little more amber. âLady is ⊠cute.â Large hands suddenly slide along your sides up, before dragging over your shoulders and slowly taking your clothing with it, removing one of a few layers as he leans in. âHere, better without.â
âOh. No- I donât- think-â
âShhh. Better, I know,â he seems to get closer, even though you are too busy staring back into the darkness of his eyes to really notice; and let him untie the robes enough to toss it towards the water edge. Then he pauses, and gets up higher onto his coiled tail to pull another layer off and throw it. Until youâre left standing in only your flimsier linen undergarb, and youâre suddenly much too aware of how peaked your nipples are against the scratchy fabric. But his hands slide up along your thighs to start peeling that off too, when you grab for him and shake your head.
Makoto insists. âNo cold when not -this.â His hands keep going up even with your pressure on them.
Having a night encounter with a man is one thing, but you donât know how youâd ever explain this if someone saw. You canât dart away in a flash and escape the consequences. You have to go home after this. âI need my clothes to go backââ you quickly beg, ignoring the soft pads of his fingers along your upper thighs, âand if people see- Makoto, please.â Your whole body aches with the cold, and though the touch feels nice, it doesnât seem right. Your nakedness isnât a simple thing, even if his is.
âClothes heavy. Water donât like clothes.â He turns you around and you lose your footing on the stable flooring, arms quickly clinging onto his wide shoulders for supportâ it does make his point. Your clothes are incredibly heavy soaked, and pull down on you as strong arms ever so slowly wrap around your waist; nose only a few inches from yours. You canât help it, your face gets hot. Cheeks, ears, nose- everything starts getting a distracting warm glow that you do your best to ignore, pulling your lip between your teeth. Even so, he seems to look down at you with intrigue, water reflecting in the black of his eyes. âWhat?â
âYouâre very closeâŠâ you confess, and also try to release some of the tightness of your embraceâ but amusement only brings him closer. He tilts his head, before leaning in until your foreheads meet, and the cooler skin consumes you. âMakoto-sama-â
âHuman kiss, hm?â Heâs so close, and his mouth is right there -and though you have no clue why, you really want to. The thought is almost as real as the air you breathe, feeling his hands roam all over your body through the soaked linen. Your voice doesnât make it out when you nod, but he still lifts you into his chest, and your fingertips dig into his shoulders instinctively. âShow me how to kiss? You little one -hmm- good- fit.â You canât help it, in place of physical heat thereâs a sort of aching fire that spreads through your limbs the longer you stay closeâ and once you start you canât stop.
Your mouth meets his first, lips moving with yours as his arms squeeze tighter; but when your tongue brushes his lips and meets his, he makes a noise. A low sort of purring that rattles his chest, and has him leaning in harder, trying to bury you into his body as your tongues brush and you suck and moan. His taste is mild but his tongue is heavy, and much longer than yours when it slips further into your mouth. Much longer, bigger, and the wetness soon has you feeling like you canât breathe.
You pull back with a gasp, staring at the way his long tongue brushes along those sharp teeth before he leans in more. âAgain.â You try to make some separation between your two bodies, but clearly Makoto doesnât care for it when he clamps his hand down around your hip and kisses you more, melting to you as his tongue brushes against yours. He kisses like youâre the first and last thing heâs tasted, even when you moan a little whimper at the lack of air. His cold skin prickles against yours, grinding his waist against you slowly as your head pounds. Still, it feels good.
You donât ever want to leaveâ and itâs this exact feeling that has you pulling back for air. You must be out of your mind. He stares with a blown out sort of hunger when you say his name again, and run your fingers along his shoulders up a little. âIâm going to get in trouble if someone finds me here- and- itâs not like we canââ Your cheeks get even hotter when you try to say the words, not even sure if heâd understand. Does a yokaiâs understanding include human nighttimes? When he shows no intention of putting you down, you bury your face into his chest, feeling even smaller than before.
Though his skin is cold to the touch, thereâs an intense amount of heat surging between you two, almost impossible to ignoreâ and the way youâre positioned against him, large arms caging you against his waist that pushes into youâ doesnât help anything. You can feel yourself get more slick each time you move your legs. He seems to chuckle when you groan- and as if sensing your train of thought, he rubs his nose along your ear and down the sensitive of your neck with a lower voice. âI want see. Human body so little. Want see it.â
Thatâs the tipping point. Every fiber in your being aches to obey, to let yourself get touched, seen, taken by himâ and your mouth drops open a sliver as you struggle to find words. Your feet canât reach the bottom here, and Makoto seems content to keep rubbing against you in a slow sea-saw motion that makes your center feel entirely hot. And eventually you crack. Blinking up at him, you breathe a faint âokayâ, and let him turn you around. His hands are quick in their exploration, sliding under the last layer up your thighs, squeezing every few inches as he goes up. When he gets to your center, thereâs a little flutter of his eyes, before those digits slide in and brush over your pussy, rubbing just soft enough to leave you wanting. âWarm,â he breathes, and then pulls you a little closer. âYou do me too.â
As he pushes your last layer of clothing open fully and starts sliding it off your shoulders, you allow yourself just a little curiosity. Heâs handsome, and heâs close, and you just feel so needy. Your breathing is still short against his chest, but your numb fingers glide down his sides with purpose as the muscles flex under your touch. His chest rumbles when you whine at the prodding and circling of his fingers around your dripping pussy, and you glide your hands down to his tail. The touch feels a little coarse, but heâs warmer there, and when you rub your palm over the area heâd been grinding into your waist, your fingers feel a softer, spongey slit. Makoto hisses when you rub a finger up and down, and you feel more heat burn onto your face. âHere?â
The question is answered when your finger slips in and is all hot, and something bumps you. But he picks you up and with one swift dash, lays you down on the river bank to get up between your legs. You need to open wide to allow him to fit, and can only whine out his name when the weight of his body over yours pushes you into the cold stones. He licks the air a few times, before grunting. You wish you could do anything other than just flush and look away when his hands descend onto your tits and start touching and rubbing, and the pressure leaves you all exposed. But it doesnât take long for his attention to shift back to between your legs, and now with a better angle, he sinks down to nose below your navel. âHmn-â
The purring is paired with a flaring of the gashes on his neck, and his eyes roll back. When his hands spread your legs up as wide as you can go, he nuzzles into you, and that long black tongue peeks out to lick slowly. You canât help it, you moan. Loudly. It feels like a million pinpricks are traveling your body, as the very long, heavy tongue drags a long strip up your center, and then the tip of it laps at the wetness coating your holeâ that quickly gets pushed open further with each sloppy lick. His tongue pushes inside you as he sucks and the feeling of something so hot and so- squirmy makes you squeeze your eyes closed. Itâs too strange, but you canât pull back.
Your hands even reach for his head to tangle your fingers in his hair and whine, your back curling from the floor. Youâre drenched- no longer just water as your pussy clenches around his tongue that he forces in to lick places youâve never been licked. Makoto wraps an arm around your thigh to pull it over his shoulder when you curl and wiggle against him- you canât help it, it feels so good. Everythingâs so sensitive, like your entire bodyâs been doused into hot water and youâre drowningâ only difference is, youâre actively longing for more.
Itâs better than any drink-induced daze, late night tussle with a stable boy. Itâs even better than your own touch and mind, because heâs just so big and youâre so full, so hot. Your hips grind against his face when he sucks again, and his nose brushes your most sensitive areaâ and try not to let the water into your mouth when you yerk again. âAh, ahg, Makoto-sama. I canât- I canât handle this much, please. Oh dear gods, Iâm sorry, Iâm so sorry. Ah-ughhh, f- ah, please -keep going.â
Your lower belly is wound so tight, and even the sound of his breathing against you feels good. You could melt into the floor with how much slick is coating your insides, dripping out of you around the suction on your cunt. And Makoto doesnât have any intention of moving. Your mind achesâ you want more. You want to wrap your entire body around him and come apartâ as his large hands squeeze your thighs tight and wrap them around his head like he canât get deep enough.
The sloppy, wet sounds of his face burying between your legs to stuff you full of tongue, licking and sucking at your sensitive pussy. It has your muscles so tight as you roll your hips against him, and you canât stop shaking. âOh, Iâm g-gonna cumâ I canât! I canât. It feels so- gud. Ah, ahh. What is happening?â When your fingers clench in his hair, he lets out a long, animalistic groan as he glances back up. Still his tongue isnât fully inside you. âI canât- Makoto, I canât!â Even though heâs reaching further than fingers can, heâs still able to fold the deft black muscle over your clit and slot his lips around it to suck. Hard.
And your body canât handle any more. While his heartbeat pulses through his tongue against your clit, everything goes white, your muscles clenching so hard it hurts. And your heart beats so hard it feels like it stops altogether. If you make any noise at all, you canât hear yourself over the pounding in your head, rattling your body so hard that nothing except you and him exist. Your eyes are shut until youâre aware of how he grunts against you and pinpricks get too unbearable. But he doesnât stop, lifting your body to his face and allowing you to ride out your orgasm against him for what feels like forever.
When you feel like you can hear yourself breathe again, you unwrap your legs from around his head. âI thought my heart was going to explode. If Hitsu knewâŠâ
Your eyes are teary when they flutter open against the light, and the black abysses that stare back are barely narrowed slits. Dipping his gills into water briefly before getting up above you again, Makoto seems different. Thereâs something predatory that wasnât there before. You canât help but go quiet. As his hands drag your body down a few inches, you swallow. âAre you okay? Sorry. I feel like I should thank youâ I havenât come that hard, ever. I donât know about yokai but I donât think I could feel that good.â His muscular body covers most of the river from your view, but you find it almost too hard to look at him. Youâre still hot; but your skin feels cold.
His fingers slide down along your side when he lets out a little groan. âYokai donât do this.â Then he goes to brush his face and mouth along your throat, and you shiver a little at the feeling. âSo pretty. Warm. I like warm. Stay with me?â You let him grind himself on top of you and embrace him the best you can, only fitting around the narrow of his waist, but after just a second you yerk up. Makoto pulls his head back when he notices, and you get another brush against your slit that makes a cold shiver run up your spine. Where the slit sat before, a dick has emerged- and your mouth drops open a little. The thing is vaguely dick shaped, but has spurs at the base like an anchor, is more pointed at the tip; and it also pulses with each breath.
âPretty warm body, good. Smell good too.â
You canât help but swear when you avert your eyes, and instead wrap your arms back around his neck. âOh, fuck.â Surely, this is where youâd draw the line. Right? But the touching of that against you doesnât make your body react the way you think it should. The prodding along your inner thighs just leaves you feeling empty, like youâd like to start all over again. Makoto grunts out a little breath when your tits brush his chest, before staring down at you.
After a few seconds of studying your face, and probably the heat thatâs flooding your features, he licks his lips. âHuman men have⊠hm-â
âYes,â you quickly say. He smacks his lips and grinds against you again. âThey uhm- put it inside.â If the answer shocks him, he certainly doesnât show itâ looking like heâs barely holding back from crashing his face back to yours and turning you over to fuck you like the begging whore you feel like. The longer he just keeps his solid body against yours, the harder it is to ignore yourself getting wet again against the pulsing of his cock. The purring, clicking noise coming from him feels nice, and you pull at him. âYouâre not done yet, right? I can do more.â
You angle your hips a little, and try not to sound so desperate when looking up at him for a kiss. âPlease- put it inside me. I- I want to feel you.â Your hands slide over the rougher scales down between you two to reach for him, and hesitate a little when his cock is heavy and covered in some sort of slime; and it seems to follow your touch. But youâre too far past embarrassment to truly care, and Makoto groans when you wrap your fingers around him to squeeze softly. âI need you.â You really donât know whatâs wrong with you. You feel like your bodyâs being torn apart. You want to be filled, fucked full of him, and get pumped round of his kidsâ all things that you shouldnât be thinking about. You didnât with any men youâve been with. You canât.
Even though you know youâre being ludicrous, when he goes in for a kiss, you cling onto him hard; digging your nails into his back. You donât even know if he could fit. His cock is proportionate to him- but itâs big and long and girthy enough to put any man to shame. You should care. You should care that you could regret being filled up to your breaking point, but youâre just so, so desperate. You might die if he doesnât fuck you. You can feel it. âPlease, please, pleaseââ
âYou slide a few feet across the floor, angry thrashing scaring you up into a flounder as you breathe in deeply. Makotoâs dragged off of you and down before you can even blink, water splashing everywhere; and you struggle back to the riverbank with wide eyes. Now youâre no longer side by side with another person- no, creature- you suddenly feel the entire ache of the cold water. The shortness of breath, the numbness of your lips and hands and feet. You feel the painful sting of your back where youâve been sliced by a dozen sharp rocks, struggling to keep your head above water. And you feel the soreness between your legs of having been filled by something too big.
When you get over the pure shock, you notice the struggling has stopped, and you notice your creatureâs golden shape next to someone else. They glitter and glint even in the low light of the afternoon, and you furrow your brows. The second shape only gets clearer when the light shines through the water and colors the flickers a blinding maroon. Your tongue feels cold.
Your arms wrap over your chest and cover up the best you can when Makoto surfaces again and gives you a kind smile, but you take a slight step back. His long, pale lashes flutter when he reaches out a hand. âSorry. Rin donât want to bleed you.â Your back and your painful scrapes are the lesser of your worries though. Whatever spell you were under, youâve been snapped out of. You feel entirely strange- enough to have hot tears welling up along your waterline. What the hell have you been dragged into? You were going to⊠do things with some monster you didnât know existed until today. Your brain screams and pounds, and your stomach is entirely flipped. But the brunet softly continues. âHe donât like I take you. Can you come here?â
âNo.â Your hair now sticks to your neck and chest, and every second youâre out of the water, is one where the feeling comes back to your limbs. Your arms are so heavy as you keep them up. âThereâs more of you?â You donât know what you expected, really. Maybe you should have known. Maybe you should have questioned. But how could you have truly known?
âYes.â he answers after a beat, and swims up a little closer with a frightening ease. âShhh, okay. He will come. You stay.â You try to tell him not to, but he dips below the water surface before you get the chance to ask him not to, splashing water all over as he doesâ and you donât know what else to do but to stare at the small bubbles that pop as peach blossoms wash over your feet. Before too long, the reddish shape surfaces alongside Makoto. He lingers in the deep of the river however; fiery eyes zeroing in on you without blinking at all. He stays submerged from the nose down, and you canât help but feel too watched.Â
Your heartbeat doesnât calm when the brunet swims up closer, and you take a little breath. âWhoâs that?â
âRin,â Makoto softly, sweetly answers, as if he was expecting the question all along. He smiles wide like a saint, and you have to ignore the voice in the back of your head that tells you to get back in the water. His hand reaches out though, and you almost want to. Almost. Your arms and back break out in goosebumps. Then Makoto looks back at the other yokai, and gives you a smiley once-over. It takes you a little too long to recognize something else that plays over his features though. A strange sort of knowing, like heâs seeing right through you. âYou Rinâs mate.â
You donât know why you donât get up and run.
âCome back in?â
Only that the voice in the back of your head gets more unbearable. You wrap your hands over your ears, and try to hang on.
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