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cry4mina · 1 month

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Lascivious

(BackTattoo!Sana x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 4.9k

Smut

Summary: You unintentionally walk in on Sana, completely naked, and see a large tattoo you never noticed before. You're admiring the artwork but she has her eyes on something else.

TW: this is literally just fucking. If that’s not something you want to read, please don’t! Slapping, teasing, biting, fighting for who is on top, Sana has a dragon back tattoo, overstimulation, choking...uh degradation maybe? Let me know if I missed anything

A/N: Thank you @neoplatinum for letting me write a story *cough porn cough* about back tattoo Sana and to @nr1chaedickrider for scheming hehehe. And thank you to @tttwiceeluvrr for the request that I thieved from Neo! @myouicieloz for helping me spark the idea for the same cuz i was STRUGGLING lmaoo Please enjoy what my Sana brain rot produce and thank you for reading<3

—

Music bumps through the house, vibrating the walls and rattling the framing of the pictures scattered.The high hats ringing off the ceilings, bass reverberating through the floor. Sana knew you were coming. You made plans to go out to eat that day at 1:30pm after schedules, she couldn’t have forgotten right?

Letting yourself in, you walked through the halls to the source of the loudness, finding the master bedroom cracked with about an inch of space between the door and threshold. Yelling her name was useless, music blanketing any sound that could’ve been made in a 20 foot proximity.

Pushing the door open curiously, you take your first few steps into the room when her shadow comes into your view, stopping you dead in your tracks.

Sana was in her walk-in closet, completely nude, facing her clothes and attempting to pick out an outfit. The curvature of her was enough to send you into a panic, perfectly smooth skin draped over a frame even Gods were jealous of. Muscles noticeably flexing as she slid a shirt across the rod bolted into the wall.

Seeing her bare like this wasn’t the only thing that surprised you.

An entire back piece, a dragon in Japanese traditional style, lay across her, fitting that perfect frame in a way that was almost natural. Like she was born with it. Getting lost in the intricacies of the details, beautifully designed with near perfect line work ascending her spine.

Head of the dragon on her shoulder, body of scales intertwining down her back over part of her ribs, claws on her hips and tailed stretched down her butt and ending at the top of her thigh. Cherry blossom petals balancing the negative space throughout the piece, shading perfectly balanced and clear. This was a work of art.

You are suddenly hyper aware of everything around you. The loudness of the music, the softness of the carpet, the way your heartbeat picks up its pace, arguing with the bass in the music, and how your lungs are struggling to function properly. Your underwear is in the beginning stages of being ruined, unable to help yourself imagining her looking down at you between her legs.

Mind completely mesmerized and your body moving without your permission, you step into the closet to get a closer look at the artwork on the masterpiece that was Minatozaki Sana.

Your hands lift and lightly start tracing the line of the dragon’s head on her shoulder, startling her. Her back muscle tensed underneath your touch, before she whipped around to see you absolutely enchanted by her naked body along with the ink laid into her skin.

Attempting to keep eye contact and not look down at her chest, already feeling horrible about invading this much of her privacy to begin with but your pussy was soaking at the thought of making her cum.

There’s a glimmer of something present behind her eyes, a slight smirk slithers across her face when she sees how red you are. Your brain immediately releasing cortisol into your veins causing your blood to run cold in panic.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve knocked.” abruptly shouted over the speaker system before attempting to get out of that room. Absolutely embarrassed that you didn’t just turn around and leave in the first place.

Speeding to the door, the music was halting mid song and you hear “I’ll be ready in a minute!” before you close the door behind you and almost sprint to the living room. Thinking about just leaving entirely when your phone vibrates twice in your pocket. A text from Sana.

Sana: You better not leave! We have lunch plans.

You: Fine.

Sana: :)

How could she just know you were going to try and escape the situation? More importantly, how could you not just stop yourself from approaching her? What an invasion of space.

Hands reach to cover your face in shame when you hear Sana’s crisp giggle emerge from the hall that connects the living room to the rest of the house. A long heavy sigh leaves your chest, raising your head to face her.

She’s wearing a short sleeve cropped shirt that’s nearly see through, a black sports bra underneath, black cargo pants that are a little too big for her, and some white sneakers. Giving a little spin to show her outfit, but all you can focus on is the bold lines that shows through her shirt and exposed on her lower back.

You swallow roughly, standing up and attempting to explain yourself and apologize.

“I am so sorry, Sana. I do not know what came over me, I should’ve knocked or texted you or something instead of just walking right into your space and then not leaving immediately when I saw you were…unclothed” not wanting to bring attention to the fact that she was naked. So uncomfortable with the idea of violating a good friend's boundaries that you could barely even make eye contact with her.

Sana is smiling at you in an endearing way, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to force you to look her directly in the eye.

“Y/n…it’s completely okay. It was only a matter of time, okay?”

Only a matter of time?!

“What do you mean by that?” regrettably leaving your mouth before you could even question the thought.

“Maybe I’ll show you after lunch.” winking and grabbing her keys before ushering you out the front door, giving no time to question what she had just been spoken so nonchalantly.

Pushing you playfully to the car, opening the passenger side door, and motioning for you to get in. Baffled by what is happening currently, you can’t imagine why she would say what she did…unless?

Unless she actually meant it…peering over to her, watching her carefully put the key into the ignition, pull the car out of park and speed off down the road.

“We are going to go to that Italian place down the road, I’m feeling like pasta today! Is that okay?” still peeking at her, you forget to respond entirely. Distracted by the sentence that plays back in your head over and over and over again, causing a slight ache between your legs.

“Y/n? Are you there?” reaching over to lay her hand on your upper thigh, lightly tapping to try and get you to pay attention to what she was saying. The tap causes you to clench your thighs together, holding your breath as a devious smile appears on sana’s face.

“Too distracted? What’s on your mind?” knowing full well she already knew the answer to what was occupying your thoughts.

Flashes of those details on the cherry blossom petals and the dragon's teeth cascade through your mind, you know what? Fuck it.

Finally exhaling and beginning to breathe regularly again, you shift back in your seat and mutter “I saw you naked once and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

A little surprised by your boldness, that was not the version of you she was familiar with, sunglasses slid to the end of her nose as she raised her eyebrows at you.

“Let’s discuss over lunch, hm? I’m interested in the thoughts you’re having.” sultry tone coating you in absolute need for her.

“Maybe I’ll show you after lunch?” oh my god, why did you say that?

A snide chuckle knocks on the windows of the sedan as she pulls up to the restaurant.

“Playing my own game against me?” sultry tone still present with half lidded eyes, leaning over the center console to get closer to your face.

“How am I doing?” leaning towards her, almost mocking her movements, even playfully, she takes it as a challenge.

Smirk, a hum, and a tongue in cheek as she picks up her phone and makes a call. You’re confused until she speaks.

“Hello, I would like to play a to go order please.”

She’s calling the restaurant you were parked out in front of...I guess we will be dining in today.

—

Food in hand, you walk back into the house you left about 20 minutes ago, Sana throwing her bag and keys on the counter as you place the food down. Having no moments to register what’s about to happen, she places her hands on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.

“What were you going to show me?” lowly reveals itself from her throat, inching closer to your face, somewhat teasing you and attempting to ignite the tension that had been building since you were caught admiring her shamelessly.

Sana’s hands travel up your sides under your shirt, you’re stoic in all of this. Waiting for the opportunity to show her exactly what you meant as she continues you softly run her nails down your ribcage.

Goosebumps pepper your skin as you throw your arm around her waist to hold her tightly against you. Skin warm on yours while your forearm locks her into place, bringing your face so close to hers, mouths almost touching, her lips chasing yours in an act of desperation.

“Tell me what you want,” whispered into her mouth, eye contact all consuming, completely converting your mind from slightly nervous to absolutely lust drive.

Sana watches how you change, the shift in dynamic between the two of you tenses the air even further. Though she was the instigator, she was no longer in control and she knew that.

“I think you know what I want.” lips moving closer to yours before you pull back again, making her a little annoyed that you keep making her work for it.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Satang.” a warning disguised as playful banter. Neither of you had ever experienced each other in this way before, even if it felt natural to hold Sana so close to you.

Chuckling at your statement, she’s having a hard time taking you seriously. The friend version of you sits in her mind's eye. Always so sweet and caring, she assumed that carried over into the bedroom too.

“Oh, are you a top? Well you’ll have to fight me for that. I’ve waited too long for this…I’m not going to give up control so easily.” big brown eyes blinking at you, almost challenging you, pushing you a little farther off the edge.

“Safe word?” coldly uttered as your pointer finger trails up her stomach to the neck of her shirt.

“Do we need one?” head cocked to the side. She truly has no clue what’s about to come.

“Hmm…let’s go with colors instead. Stoplight style.” smirking at you, eyes full of lust and curiosity waiting for you to make your move.

“Deal.” Hand maneuvering from the neck of her shirt to her actual neck, the soft sweet human she knew was no longer present in this. Almost predatory in your movements as you lightly pulled her to her bedroom.

—

“You’re going to listen to every word I say, understand?” ice shards spewing around your words before throwing her onto her bed.

She looks confused by this, never expecting the sweet anxious Y/n to be so…dominant. It tastes like a daydream she’s had continuously since she’s met you.

“And if I don't? What happens then?” curiously inquiring about your plans, testing the waters to see if being a brat was something you wanted.

Glaring down at her, ignoring the question, you simply had one instruction for her.

“Strip.”

Sana hesitates, another push, intrigued by the demeanor you’ve presented to her. It’s just so unexpected, you’re usually so docile and reserved about sexual things. This is what she dreamed of most nights, unable to grasp that it was coming true before her eyes.

“Now.” taking a seat in the chair in the corner to watch the show you insisted she put on.

Sana stands up, sauntering over to you while grabbing the hem of her shirt and peeling it from her body. She slowly turns around, removing her sports bra in the process, dragon tattoo on full display, making sure to slowly slide her pants and underwear down to her ankles before kicking them to the side.

Refusing to pull your eyes from her body as you take in the ink and curves. Her skin is silky smooth, a perfect ass you just wanted to take a bite out of, and not a single mark on her to tell the world who she now belonged to.

“Turn around.” rotating to face you, she takes a few steps forward and leans down, placing her hands on the arms of the chair and invading your space again.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Especially since you were the one who came into my room unannounced” standing up straight and walking over to the bed. Her ass on the edge leaning back on her hands, legs spread apart in front of you. She is leaving nothing to the imagination.

Jaw tensing at the new view you had, practically ripping your shirt off before leaning back into the chair again. Unable to keep your eyes off of hers as she continued on in that low tone that nearly made you rabid.

“Were you expecting to see me like this? Sprawled out on the bed for you? I’ve thought about inviting you over, just to give you a show like this.” one hand raises up and you know exactly where it’s headed.

“Stop.” eye contact maintained as she halts in her tracks, surprised you said anything.

You stand and walk over to her, removing your bra and pants along the way.

“Don’t touch what’s mine.” growled at her before roughly cupping her face and bombarding her with a fiery kiss, tongues intertwining, her hands wandering up to you as she tries to flip you onto your back.

Grabbing her hands, locking your fingers in hers, and pinning her to the mattress. She lightly whimpers into your mouth causing your knees to buckle. Feeling her lips curve up before she uses a leg to literally sweep you off your feet. Your knees hitting the ground roughly, causing you to wince, squeezing her hands tightly and pulling her forward with you.

“How can you expect to be the dominant one from the floor? I thought you were actually going to put me in my place…such a shame.” glowering at you from above.

“You wanted a fight didn’t you?” jumping to your feet, pushing her onto her back, rolling her over harshly, inciting a giggle of excitement out of her.

Cocking your arm back, you smack her ass roughly, watching her flesh ripple underneath your touch, only to lay another immediately after. Hearing her suck air through her teeth as you lay another handprint to the canvas.

“Color?” cuts through the sound of Sana panting, admiring the red welts left behind and watching a string of slick drip from her.

“Green…so so green” between breaths.

Expressing amusement at her enthusiasm with a dark chuckle, you apply one more solid smack to her before placing a kiss at the bottom of her spine, confusingly soft in your touches and light pecks up her spine, over the line beautiful line work, across every cherry blossom petal and up to her neck.

Sana breathing heavily underneath you with your tits pressed firmly against her back to hold her in place to avoid her squirming, you take a second to appreciate the position you found yourself in, and how absolutely drenched you were for her.

Your right hand follows the curvature of her hips wrapping around her and sliding down between her legs. She groans before you even touch her.

“Awhh, baby’s all worked up, hm? How long have you been dreaming about what I would feel like between your legs?” dragging your middle finger lightly over her dripping cunt to gather a little wetness before coasting over her clit a few times, just to rile her up a little more.

The bed muffling her whines, you grab a hand full of her hair and pull it towards you, forcing her head back to allow the honeyed moans to drench the room in their sickly sweet stickiness.

Sounds reverberating through her body, causing a reaction in yours, solidifying the ruination of your underwear. Sana’s hips start rocking back and forth in the rhythm of you set with your hand so you still your movements and let her fuck herself on your hand.

“Awh, look how desperate you are for me. Grinding into my hand to feel something? How pitiful. You might as well beg.”

Sana squeals in frustration, grinding down into you harder as you watch her pathetically try to earn some sense of pleasure, tail of the tattoo snapping with her subtle movements. It’s like watching a scene unfold.

Removing your hand suddenly brings her even more anger, rolling over, forcing you onto your back with the movement and quickly finding her seat on your abdomen, slick warm against your skin. Your breath hitching silently so she can’t see how weak she has you.

“Why can’t you just fuck me like I want you too? Have to make it about teasing me?! I obviously fucking want you so why won’t you just take what’s yours?” almost maliciously spat at you, her hands dragging down your chest and brushing over your nipples. You're clenching around nothing as Sana touches your body, trying to tease you back.

You’ve had enough of her trying to be the dominant one, even if it’s only for a second. You sit up, halfway getting in her face, foreheads pressed together and noses brushing, her arms instinctively wrap around your neck.

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do…color?” Wrestling her onto her back again before she has more time to protest.

“Green,” moaned back to you, her eyes half-lidded, screaming fuck me through the tension. Lowly growling as you press your lips together, urgently trying to absorb as much of her as possible.

Making your way to her neck, you bite down viscously. She moans your name into your skin as you refuse to let go of her. You’re practically dripping onto her as she rakes her nails cruelly down your back, causing you to whimper into her.

“Fuck baby, I need you.” hoarsely stated, shaky hands tug at your waistband, trying to pull them off, moving . You’re inclined to help her remove them from your frame, finally unlatching from her neck and giving her just enough leverage to slide them off you.

“Let me feel you, baby. I’ve waited so long- need to feel you.” running her hands up your thighs, grazing over your slick covered skin until she reaches your core. Her finger glides past your clit a couple times causing you to almost get carried away grinding into her, before you snatch her hand away from you.

“Who’s the desperate one now?” Spat at you as your slick drips down her fingers slowly.

“It’s still you.” guiding her hand down to her own pussy, letting her smear your cum onto her. A loud wail leaves her mouth, feeling the warmth from your wetness against her, unable to stop herself from shoving her fingers inside.

Grabbing her cheeks, forcing her lips to pucker and making eye contact, you utter one single word that halts her in her tracks. “No.”

You remove her hand for her knowing she wasn’t going to do it herself. Whimpering at the lack of something inside of her, she’s reduced to just a begging mess for you. Your little whiney play thing.

“Pleaseeee, I’ve been so good.” rocking her hips, the attempt to feel something overpowers her need to be the little brat she was attempting to portray.

Smirking at her, you lean in to kiss her again. She’s melting into you, exactly where you want her to be. So desperate for you. Your hand wraps around her throat again, squeezing lightly before your fingers descend her torso, scratching along the way, and stopping right above her slit.

“Begging looks good on you. Are you sure you’re needy enough? Maybe I’ll make you wait all day…maybe I’ll make you wait all week, actually. I think you look too good like this…” sharply spat into her mouth as her brows furrow. The whiny little whore beneath you squirming, writhing for your touch, bucking her hips up.

“Maybe it’s because you can’t make me cum.” the whiney tone contradicts the words hissed, neediness has taken over and now she’s just trying to make you fuck her.

A smack on her cunt, followed by a loud shriek fills the room, her juices coating your hand and splatter against her thighs and yours.

“Try again” straight faced, despite how badly you want her, how badly you crave the way she tastes. She doesn’t need to know how close you are to fully devouring her.

“Unghh…fuck, please y/n. Please fuck me! I’m so fucking desperate for you. Want to cum for you. Fuck please please please.” tears brimming at how badly Sana aches for you. The knot building in your stomach pulls at all your senses, this was just as bad for you as it was for her.

“So pathetic…color?” gripping her hips tightly before getting on your knees, pulling her forward just a little bit and resting her legs on your shoulders.

“Gre-eeen…oh, shit.” stuttered as the warmth of your breath radiates up her thighs

The sounds she's making could make anyone weak for her. Yelping and arching her back, rutting her hips forward for more contact, the lustful whimpers begging you to use her in a way that you never thought you would.

“Look at me.”demanded before laying a long, slow, tantalizing lick from her entrance to her clit that has her unable to keep still, she’s absolutely rabid.

“More, please…fuc- I’ll do anything, just please…” almost weeping, running her fingers through your hair, gripping tightly and attempting to pull you closer to where she needed you the most. Putting your tongue out in preparation; you knew she was going to try to do this.

Allowing her to use your face for mere seconds, you force her hips down onto the mattress and give her another slow long lick. Taking back the control you allowed her to have and driving her insane all in one swift motion.

Hair completely all over the place, face red, and half lidded watery eyes look down at you, a single tear, reflecting your diligence in working her up, sluggishly plummets down her features before hitting the bedding with a thick thwap.

You mewl into her, securing your lips around her clit before running your tongue over it incessantly. She’s already close, body tensing under you, unable to keep still as you overstimulate her. You spent all this time working her up just for this moment where she would absolutely crumble for you.

“Fuck fuck fuck” followed by another string of unintelligible sounds solicited from her mouth. Immediately adding 2 fingers into her with no intention of taking it easy on her, immediately pumping at full speed just to watch her fall apart for you.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Screamed out into the negative space of the room as Sana came around your fingers. Her silky smooth thighs tighten around your head, one hand grasping at sheets the other tugging your hair as you keep lapping at her aggressively.

“Fuck…wait wait…I’m gonna- oh my god” already hitting another stride of pleasure.

Pressing up into her roughly, the sound of her pussy crying for you makes you want to shatter her. Sucking, licking, and sliding a third finger into her, Sana falls apart around you again. Shaking violently as you hold her down against the sheets, tears running down her face as a flash of heat dances across her entire body in pure ecstasy.

Breathing heavily and sitting up, she grabs a fist full of your hair with one hand and leans back onto the other. Bucking her hips into your tongue wildly, panting and moaning loudly without a single care in the world.

Firmly holding your head in place, smearing her cum along your tongue and lips, completely lost in pleasure as she fucks your face in an attempt to push herself over the edge another time.

Letting her have her moment, you left your tongue out for her to use. Slurping every drop of her as she rides your mouth. Her pants are getting faster, body tensing again, moans being cut off by curses. She’s completely lost in her own pleasure when she finally manages to formulate a short and simple sentence..

“Good girl”

Ripping her off of you before she can fully finish using you. The frustration behind her eyes seers into you like a brand, eyes carving into your skin as you start sifting through nightstand drawers.

“Where is it?” almost shouted at her, trying to quickly locate the last thing you needed to prove the point that you were in charge. She knows exactly what you’re looking for, huffing over your question and pointing to the bottom drawer of the dresser across the room.

Quickly stepping over and finding it, the 8 inch strap heavy as you fix it around your hips, balance feeling almost off as you bring your attention back to Sana who is still rocking her hips and whimpering. Just where you want her.

“Flip over…color?” You’re practically leaking down your thighs and she fixes herself, ass up for you. Her back arched, face in the mattress and massive tattoo on full display as she taunts you by wiggling her ass against you.

“Fucking green…Fuck me, please! Need you inside so so so bad.” desperation weighs heavy in her voice and only grows worse as you grind the strap against her clit, teasing her even further. How far could you push her?

Smacking her sensitive little clit with the silicone a few times, building it up even further than you needed, just to see how she would react.

The sounds coming out of her are so pitiful, whining incoherently for you.

“You want it, Hm?” teasing the tip at the entrance before running it over her slit one last time. Pressing the head into her entrance, only the head.

“I’d bet you’ve dreamed about this moment.” removing the tip to watch her clench before gliding it back in painfully slow. Sana is just nodding her head and making sounds that could only be described as painfully needy.

“Dreamed about what it would be like for me to slam into you?” rapidly bottoming out into her, touching her cervix and staying in place.

“Does the little slut want to cockwarm my strap while I mark all over this tattoo? Let the world know who you belong to? Hm?” brutally sinking your teeth into the line work of the dragon that graced her back.

Reeling your hips back slowly, torturously staying with half the tip in, waiting to re-sheath it and leaving it buried inside of Minatozaki Sana. Just where it belonged, inside your perfect little toy and she couldn’t be any more feral for it. Trying to push back into you to feel something, even if it was just to feel full.

Finding a place on the other shoulder to bite down on, railing into her again. Creating a slow building rhythm that harmonizes with the symphony ejecting from Sana’s perfect lips. Like a crescendo building higher and higher as you slam into, getting faster in every thrust.

A scream, the snap of a knot, another belligerent bite down, and a continuous pace that wasn’t going to stop until she was unable to hold herself up, creating a whirlwind of heat and passion. Dragon tattoo on her waving into the waves the both of you created, Sana slamming back into you with your hands on her hip, pulling down and creating leverage for yourself.

It didn’t take long for her legs to give out, fully spasming into the bedding, gasping for air when you finally let go of the flesh on her back, tasting a mixture of her and iron on your tongue, licking the wound before laying sweet kisses on her back and neck.

Carefully removing the strap from her, she moans at the loss of what filled her. You watch her muscles contract and laugh to yourself as you remove the leather off your hips and crawl up next to her.

Sana’s still laying stomach down horizontally across the bed, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. Tapping her shoulder, you lift an arm and offer for her to cozy up with you and she is happy to take it.

Arms and legs wrapped around each other, dragging the tips of your fingers over the bite marks and ink, you can’t help but ponder when she got the tattoo.

“Can I ask you something?” whispered to her, not willing to remove any comfort that she currently had from her grasp.

“Mhm.” hummed back at you in pure exhaustion, you can feel her body relaxing onto yours- she’s about to fall asleep.

‘Why did you go for a back tattoo? Out of all the tattoos I thought you could get, a very large dragon was not on my list.” chuckling as you spoke, watching the coy smile form on her face through a sleep filled haze.

“I wanted to give you something to look at.”

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yutaan · 18 days

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Papercraft commission of Cherry Blossom and Joe from Sk8 the Infinity! 🌸 🍵

With papercraft, I usually draw tattoos onto the characters' skin, but since Joe has a fairly simple design from the waist up without much place for paper patterns, I decided to render his tattoo in paper as well. It ended up being was trickier than I expected! But I think it came out looking neat :D

#sk8 the infinity #cherry blossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #joe #kojiro nanjo #papercraft #papercutting #paper art #traditional art #my art

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ikeromantic · 2 months

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Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 2

Thank you again to @otomedad for this idea!

Kenshin, Shingen, and Yoshimoto. Approx. 2400 words. Part 1 here!

Kenshin

Kenshin froze mid-step, his mismatched eyes going wide. You froze too, a shout of surprise caught behind your lips. Your kimono hung open, half undressed as you prepared for a bath.

The tub of steaming water sat behind a decorative screen, and you were wishing you were behind it too. “Umm. Hi?” You tug the fabric closed, your face hot.

He swallows, and turns his head to look down the empty corridor leading to your ‘room’. “You were not expecting me. I will go.”

“No, wait!” Your voice startles you as much as him. Kenshin turns his head to glance your direction expectantly. You pause, unsure what to say. “I was hoping you would come today.”

If anything, this seems to surprise him even more than seeing you unclothed.

“If you like, you can wait with me for the bathwater to cool down. It’s too hot to soak in right now.” You sit down on the small stool beside the bars of your well-appointed cell.

Kenshin says nothing for a long moment, then he nods. There is something unsettled about him as he pulls up a stool to sit across from you. “Is there anything you need?”

You shrug, glancing around at the stone walls and wooden bars. “Out? Other than that, no.”

He looks down, his lips twisting in a faint grimace. The frown turns to puzzlement. “What is that?”

You realize he’s noticed the cherry blossom petal on the top of your bare foot. “Oh. It’s part of my tattoo.” You carefully shift your kimono open a little bit to show the rest of your leg. Cherry blossoms and pink petals dance across your skin, as if floating on a forever breeze in some place where it is always spring.

Kenshin regards the ink with more curiosity than you expected. His hand drifts toward the bars that separate you. “Beautiful,” he breathes.

Your skin prickles and warms with expectation of his touch. The tip of his cool, calloused finger brushes your calf, setting your heart off at a gallop. You aren’t sure if the butterflies in your belly are from the compliment or the feel of his hand on your leg.

“It does not come off,” he states, rather than asks.

“Right. It’s ink under my skin so . . . I guess I’m stuck with it for life.” You try for a carefree smile, but miss the mark as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

Kenshin considers this for a moment, then nods. “It is like a scar, then.” His eyes narrow. “Why was this done to you?”

You do smile then, at the protective note in his voice. “I did it to me. Or, at least, I picked the design and the spot. I wanted something to remind me that life is short. To enjoy the beauty in it, as long as it lasts. Because, you know. It won’t last long.”

His fingers trace the edges of the petals and blossoms, moving up past your knee to the top of the flowers on your thigh. “The inevitability of loss,” he says, more to himself than to you. There is something warm in his eyes, something fragile.

“No,” you shake your head. “The celebration of beauty, however fleeting. Take joy where you can, right?”

“Take joy . . .” His gaze falls back to your leg, and he snatches his hand away as if suddenly scalded by your skin. Shutters of ice close him off from you again as he stands.

You stand as well, reaching for him through the cell bars. Your fingers brush his shoulder before he steps back.

“If there is nothing you need, I will go.”

“I do need something.” Your voice shakes a little as your hand drops to your side. “I wish you’d visit me more often. Stay for a little longer when you do. I like being around you.”

Kenshin does not reply. He studies you for a moment, before turning away. His steps echo down the empty corridor, making you feel somehow even more alone than before he came.

Shingen

Shingen’s hand trailed along the smooth silk of your kimono, the warmth of his touch soaking through to your back. He wasn’t technically supposed to be touching you, just watching the stars. But he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself, and you weren’t going to complain. Not tonight, anyway.

“Are you sore, angel,” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“No,” you shot back, then admitted, “a little.” The day’s hike through mountainous forest hadn’t been easy, especially carrying a pack. You regretted insisting on carrying it, but pride wouldn’t let you take it easy.

Shingen’s lips curled up in a subtle smile. “I see.” His hand stilled on your back. “You know what the best thing for sore muscles is?”

You turn your head to regard him, sensing a trap. “A hot bath?”

“Those are pretty good. But love is what makes the angel sing.” He grins at you, playful and teasing.

“Seriously, Shingen?” You huff and pull away from his touch.

He sighs. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. It’s not every day an actual goddess graces me with her presence.”

You glare at him, annoyed and flattered and annoyed with yourself for being flattered. “Whatever. I’m going inside.”

“Don’t leave, angel.” There’s a slight pleading tone to his voice. “As an apology, let me give you a shoulder rub. It will make us both feel better. I promise.” The sensual tilt of his lips and the appeal in his gaze give you pause. A massage would feel nice, but . . .

“No. I don’t trust you.” The words leave your mouth in a rushed exhalation, leaving so much unsaid. It wasn’t Shingen you didn’t trust, it was yourself.

He looked down, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim starlight. “I promise, I’m not trying to make you mine.” Shingen held his hands out as if in surrender. “Let me help?”

The silence between you expands, an almost physical thing pressing against your skin and making it hard to breathe. You give a curt nod, giving in to what you know you want, even if you can’t admit it.

Shingen settles behind you. His hands slide down your shoulders, gently tugging your kimono down to bare them. His breath catches and he goes still.

For a moment, you are confused, and then you realize he must have seen it. Your tattoo. Maple leaves drifting along your spine, from just below your neck to your hip. A riot of warm colors and fine lines etching your skin. You still remember the pain of having it done. But it was worth it. “Something wrong?” You try for a teasing tone, but your voice is too breathy to make that mark.

“Your back -” He pulls your kimono lower still, revealing more of the falling leaves. His calloused hand presses against the ink as if to wipe it away. “My angel is a work of art.”

A shiver runs through your skin at the feel of his hand on you. Your galloping heart speeds even more, racing uncontrollably as heat flushes your face. “You’re not supposed to be flirting,” you manage.

Shingen’s laugh sends a puff of warm breath across your neck. “That wasn’t flirting. I’m only stating the obvious.” His thumbs press into your tense, tired flesh, a gentle pressure to ease sore muscles. “Is the art something from your village? I have never seen anything like it painted into skin.”

You struggle for a moment to find words, distracted by his closeness and the intimacy of his touch. He clearly knows how to give a massage, and the sensation is short circuiting your brain. “Umm. It . . . mmmm . . . I got it to remind myself.”

“Of?” His lips are distressingly close to the leaf at the top of your spine, almost brushing the inked skin.

“Th-that I am carried. Forward. Even when life is tough. Like a leaf in the wind. Do what I can and leave what I can’t to fate. Or god. Or . . . chaos, I guess. Trust that life is - is pushing me to where I need to be.” You stutter through an explanation, leaving out all the context and emotion surrounding the decision on this image in this spot in those colors.

Shingen is quiet for a while, his skilled hands working out the knots in your shoulders and upper back. “My angel is a philosopher. Something holding us up in our worst moments.” He sounds more thoughtful than you expected when he finally speaks. Rather than blowing off the meaning of the design, he seems interested.

“I needed something to hang on to,” you say softly, self-consciously. His praise feels undeserved, but makes your heart feel full, your chest tight.

“We all do, sometimes.” You feel the press of a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

Quiet descends between you again, a soft silence of connection and comfort.

Yoshimoto

You sit completely still, afraid to even breathe deeply. Yoshimoto’s fingers comb gently through your hair, coaxing it into position. He hums a tune you almost recognize as he works, styling you for the artists that will arrive soon.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I bet there are a lot of more qualified models in Kasugayama,” you say through stiff lips. This whole idea has you on edge. Art is wonderful, and you love making it - but being in it? Not so much.

Yoshimoto adjusts your necklace. “You are perfect. There is none more qualified.” He steps back, inspecting his work.

“I am so very not perfect,” you argue, thinking of all the parts of yourself you’d change if you could. “Surely Okuni would be better -”

“No. I want them to paint you.” The way he says it sends a thrill through you, as if he would value more your image than any other. Which can’t be true. Yoshimoto is just an appreciator of art. And you, as his friend and student, happened to be available for this painting session with some up and coming artists.

You take a shallow breath. The next part will be the hardest, even knowing it is coming. “Fine. I guess.” The blanket in your lap seems smaller by the moment and you feel heat rising in your cheeks as you take it in one hand.

Yoshimoto smiles and moves close again, his fingers hover at the edge of the decorative kimono draped over your shoulders. “I am honored by your trust in me.”

“Wait!” You take a deeper breath, a panicky feeling welling up in your chest. “I can’t model. I - I have a tattoo!” You feel a sudden certainty that, just like your parents, Yoshimoto will hate the ink on your skin, and the artists will refuse to paint you, and - and -

He settles a hand on your cheek, turning your head toward him. “Thank you for telling me. May I see it?” His eyes are wide and clear, empty of judgment or censure.

You study his face a moment longer, feeling self conscious. “Ok.”

He pulls the fabric down as you lift the blanket to your chest. Almost the pose you were meant to take for the artists.

Despite the white silk now covering your breasts, you feel exposed. Your entire back on display, bare shouldered and covered with almost nothing from the back of your neck to the top of your butt cheeks. Vulnerable. On display. You wait for Yoshimoto to say something, but he is silent.

“Well?” Your voice is sharp and anxious, and you resist the urge to tug the fabric up and hide behind it.

Yoshimoto takes a breath. His hands brush your sides, stopping at the edges of your tattoo. Chrysanthemums spread from the center of your back to your hips, delicate and colorful. He kneels to look at them more closely, close enough that his hair tickles against your skin.

You love the way they look, bright and playful. Accentuating the natural curves of your low back and hip. But you can’t tell what his reaction is. His quiet only wrenches your nerves tighter. “If you don’t say something, I think I’m going to cry.”

His soft touch brushes the inked flowers, as if painting the petals with his fingertips. “I . . . I did not expect . . .”

“It’s fine.” You reach for the kimono, ready to cover up and escape with a little dignity.

Yoshimoto’s hand catches yours. “Please. Let me look a little longer. It is beautiful.” His gaze meets yours, fey eyes almost aglow. “You are beautiful.”

Your breath catches, there is a tightness in your chest. A trembling, uncertain emotion that you cannot name. “Alright.”

His smile is tender and affectionate as his eyes drift back to your tattoo. “These colors are amazing. I have never seen such bright irezumi. And the way it follows the shape of your body -” His caress sends a pleasant shock up your back and sets your pulse pounding. “This was done by a master artist. Only fitting for such a canvas.”

“They were really good,” you nod, recalling the waitlist and the cost. “They designed it for me after I told them what I wanted. Something with meaning, memories and promises. I wanted to look at it the rest of my life and know it holds what is close to my heart.”

You gesture toward the flowers he is touching. “Red for the promise of love, yellow for what I’ve lost, white for loyalty. And all of it together for beauty, inside and out.” The words pour out as if from a broken dam. You’ve never told anyone all of this, never had the opportunity or the trust. But you want Yoshimoto to know you. To understand you.

“Did you know it is also a symbol of royalty?” His voice is soft, barely audible.

“I do. Not that I am. Royal. I mean, Nobunaga made me a princess but I’m just a normal person. Nothing special.” You shrug. “I just thought it was a really pretty flower.”

Yoshimoto’s arms wrap around you, and his cheek rests against your back. You feel the flutter of his eyelids as he closes them. “You are special. Talented and beautiful and kind. I can think of no other more deserving of such a mark.”

Bittersweet pleasure floods you. There is nothing you can say to that, and so you let yourself enjoy his embrace. The feel of him pressed close. If only it could last. If only you could speak the words that lie heavy in your heart. If, if, if.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen kenshin #ikesen shingen #ikesen yoshimoto #fanfiction #otome #fanfic #otome guys #fluff

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stigandr-the-cat · 2 months

Text

Butcher and the Beauty

summary : you a sweet assistant for Agent Laswell with the assigned integration partner of Ghost. The reader is gender, race-neutral, and described as being fat. Ghost wants to die by the thigh. Ghost is also a bit of a freak.

TW : MDNI, no smut but graphic violence is alluded to with some on page. No use of Y/N. The reader does want to have their nails painted. 2nd person POV my beloved.

masterlist

Your fingernails are a mess. Bit too long, one nail a little jagged, cuticles further up on the nail bed than you like. Really you need to make time to go to the salon this weekend. Oh didn't Kate say something about going Thursday with her wife? Maybe you could join them unless it’s a date night wouldn't want to be third-wheeling on that.

Now what design should you get? Roses? It's too early in the spring for that. Cherry Blossoms would be too basic though. You could do Crocus or Ivy, that would look pretty with maybe a more neutral background.

A wet crack that you know is bone breaking interrupts your thoughts, followed by a scream that has that broken scrape to its edges that comes from too much use. Looking up you see only the broad back of night that is Ghost at his bloody and violent work. Along the edges, you see a twitching body that toes that line of just being a split seams sack of meat and broken bones that sometimes makes noise.

You didn't think you would get used to this part of your job as Kate's assistant. But after one particular 'guest', whose crimes had started with animal abuse and ended with mass murder had said things you did your best to forget, well you got over it real quick.

Your stopwatch buzzes. Your part of this interrogation is about to begin. The beauty to his butchery. The soft pretty thing untouched by the grizzly display. The one holding his leash. It is a dynamic that makes you one of the best integrator teams. Just after John and Kate who have this disappointed parents front they put up that makes even the hardest crack in shocking ways.

(Kate has become accustomed to being called 'mommy' much to her horror she had confessed over drinks one night.)

"Ghost love," Word like the whisper of a whip with how ridged the Lieutenant becomes. "Give the man a break please." He nodded, turning on his heel and coming to your side like a loyal guard dog.

He tugs off one blood-soaked glove revealing his pale hand tattooed with its bones, like an x-ray in living motion. You felt positively Victorian in how your heart speeds up and air stuck in your throat at the display. The reveal of hand and wrist is as intimate as a lover wearing gossamer lace. Wordlessly you handing him a bottle of water brushing gently the violence-warmed skin. His eyes are as sharp as the knives he hones flickering from the contact point to your gently parted lips. Crinkling in what you hoped was a fanged smile he tugs the bottom of his mask up to drink. Letting you catalog each slivered scar that graced his skin the way stars do the night sky.

"Pretty thing so soft and just as sweet." His voice is rough as dark as the shadowed corners of a haunted house. Setting the bottle down next to your hand his fingers gently skimming your soft skin, both of you shivering at the contact. It is no wonder, you think, that there is a betting pool of when you two would finally knock boots.

"You're going a little extra rough with the prisoner today, did something happen this weekend?" Asking him with one of your softest voices the one for crying children and feral animals, all creatures that were likely to bite.

Rolling his eyes. Hip settling against the table's edge. Boots shifting to slide along the edges of your feet. "Tried to find a good shag yea? But ended up with a twiggy thing waist big 'round as my arm. Got 'er all warmed up and dripping but when I go to finally get mine. Couldn't fit, well she tries to be sweet begs me for a minute to just go 'head. So I do but end up twisting my PA. Had to take it out 'cus it was making me swell up and bruise. Bloody tip got a dent, a bruise, and is swollen fucking 'ell it's uncomfortable."

You try not to simultaneously wince and laugh. "Poor thing." Feeling a little bold you rub circles along the back of his bare hand. His eyes flick to watch as he slides his hand closer to you a silent invitation to continue.

"You know what lean meat is good for? Fucking casseroles. Naw lovie, need me something marbled with fat, nice and tender. A good ribeye or brisket just falls apart on my fingers, something I can sink my teeth into." He leans in closer, you can see a spray of blood, like freckles, across the cheekbones of his mask. Brown eyes like grave dirt, the soil rich from blood soaking it. "Need something soft like you."

You tremble anticipation clawing along your spine across the plane of ribs and hipbones the chilled fire like a cautious lover. "Oh?"

"Soft things like you, know how to have fun. Can slap that pretty arse and toss you around. Bruise those thick thighs while kneeling at your feet. Spend hours making you moan my name." His ungloved hand has moved to grab your chin tilting your face up. The touch is blister hot, phosphorus at ignition deadly, and oh so bright.

You open your mouth the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb. Sucking at the digit and swirling it in your mouth for a moment before freeing it with a pop. He growls like a starving dog.

"Oh for fucks sake just ask me your bloody questions so I don't have to watch anymore." The prisoner spits out a tooth and blood. Dangling from the ceiling like a cow after slaughter carcass dripping blood.

Ghost's eyes flash with irritation at the interruption. You can't help but smile. Circling your fingers around his wrist with a far more intimate moment in mind as you tease him. He groans and your thighs part at the sound desire a bubbling pool.

"Give me and what's mine a minute." He snarls out, your eyes flicker down his body watching with a pleased buzz as he adjusts himself.

"yours huh?" Whispering as your eyes lock back with his. Something like blood covering volcanic glass after it's slashed across the throat of a caught thing is spoken of between your bodies. An offering you give on bent knee or a back against cotton sheets.

"Not going to let you go, ever. Not when I've got my teeth in you." Its threat and promise tied with red silk ribbons and iron padlocked chains. As inevitable as death. Not that you mind.

#babbling.brook.writing #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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