Sunday, June 30, 2013

A Hayato Gokudera Lemon -- Wildcat

Character: Hayato Gokudera

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Just wanted to do something for KHR! ^_^  This is TYL!, by the way

Hayato Gokudera is far from perfect.  He shows his imperfection in many ways, too many to count or remember.  You usually don't mind.  It is a part of his personality and you love him for it.  But some things bother you, just a little bit, like a nagging sensation in the back of your mind.
He smokes after sex.  When you're laying down, still lingering in the zinging bliss that has only just been yours, he is sitting up smoking.  You asked him why, once, and he told you that smoking helps him come back to earth.  But you wish he wouldn't do it.  It's something a person does after hooking up with someone random, or after making a mistake.  It's not something you should do after fucking with your long term girlfriend.  You've told him this, too, but he brushes you off.
You try not to care.  You try to remind yourself that no one is perfect.  That you have your impurities as well.  You're quick to accuse and you hold grudges.  You get jealous easily.  You swear and sometimes lie.  But you could never be accused of not loving someone properly.
"Mm…Hayato?" you wonder, watching him take a drag from his cigarette.  He glances down at you, his gradient eyes unreadable.  You touch his hipbone and whisper, "What are you most afraid of?"
He raises a brow at your random question and sighs, blowing the cigarette smoke into the air and watching it curl across the room.  You do this often, this strange pillow talk.  And he usually indulges your curiosity because this is the only time he feels so relaxed, so empowered.  But he doesn't want to talk about fears, not tonight, and so instead of truth he just scoffs and asks, "What kind of stupid question is that?"
You shrug, not put off by his gruff behavior.  There is little that can make you turn away from this Hayato.  Here, like this, when you are very much alone, Hayato is softer, gentler, sweeter than he is in public.
"I'm afraid of death," you murmur, dragging your hand past his hipbone and down his thigh.  He watches your progression with a slightly wary eye.  "And going into labor," you add as an afterthought.  It is in great amusement that you watch your lover's reaction to that.
He turns characteristically red and then looks away, shoving his chin up like a perturbed child.  You giggle softly and continue to touch his skin.  Then you say, "Hayato, I want you again."
The atmosphere changes immediately.  Hayato isn't a child anymore, but now he's a man.  A man who looks very attractive with only a sheet covering his nudity.  A man you want very much to come into your arms and make you blind and insightful all at once.
He turns to you, his cigarette hanging precariously from parted lips.  You slowly sit up.  The sheet tumbles gently down your body and his eyes turn to focus on your revealed skin.  Gingerly, you reach out and take the cigarette from his mouth, replacing it with your lips.  He responds, slowly at first but with gradual acceptance.  As he does, the air around you ignites like fire, as though the cigarette has burned its way into a small explosion.
Then you are reaching out, curling your leg over the both of his so as to reach the ashtray on the bedside table.  The new position is also accepted, even appreciated, and Hayato drags you back down into the blistering heaven of your kiss.  His hands arch around your bum and he pulls you close against him, core to core as the sheet unravels around you and falls away.  And the feeling that comes from the intimate proximity makes you want to forget.  Yourself, the obligations that came with the sunrise, even Hayato.  You want to forget his smoking and his complaining and just remember the way he makes love to you, as though you are the only person alive who means anything at all to him.
This isn't true and you know it.  You know that there are plenty of other people that Hayato cares for, though he won't admit it aloud.  But in these moments, these shards of lust, you like to think that you are special.  That you cannot be replaced. 
His lips duck from yours to kiss down your neck, leaving a delightful trail of kisses down your chest.  He hums a little and the vibrations shoot over you, cascading down your body and transforming into tiny little shivers as they go.  Your hands reach for him, clutching at his chest, his waist, his hair, and you watch him attack your breasts with lips that are far from gentle.  He is callous and harsh and rough.
But it still excites you, in ways that no man has ever succeeded before.  You shiver into him, fingers curling around his head and pulling him closer as his tongue rolls over your nipple.  You watch him silently, your eyes warm and loving.  Whether he sees your expression, you can't say.  But his cheeks are a little pink as he moves his attention to your other breast, his hands wrapping around you and pulling you closer.  His member begins to harden and you roll your hips against it, making him growl.
He likes you like this, all faux dominant.  It isn't really your nature to be like that, but in the bedroom you are surprisingly rough.  Perhaps it is because you are so submissive in all your other ventures, and you grow tired of it.  Perhaps it is simply because you know Hayato likes his women to be aggressive and you want to please him.  Whichever the reason, you decide not to give in without a fight of some sort.  It is more fun that way, anyway.
His eyes shift over yours as though he knows the direction of your thoughts, and you smile a little.  He pulls away from your breast and leans back, as though in no hurry to dive into the passion of the moment.  Instead, he watches you.  Watches the slightly breathless way your chest moves, and the flash of your eyes, and the way you are sitting atop him as though you own the world and him and are responsible for the lust that has woven its way through his body.  You are, but there are many things that Hayato won't admit to and that is one of them. 
He wants to light another cigarette, but he also wants to taste you.  He also wants to have you, to hilt himself as deeply within you as possible and make you scream his name.  He's never wanted to do anything more, and so the next moment, he throws an arm over the headboard, the image of laziness, and drawls, "Get on your back."
It is a test, you think.  He is wondering which part you will be playing: submissive or dominant.  But you have already decided which part to play in this particular game, and so it is with a raised brow and a vivid smirk that you respond, "Make me."  And he does.  A moment later.
He rolls you roughly onto your back, as though he knew what you'd been planning to say and had been preparing to move.  When you look back up at him, he is smirking a delicious smirk and his eyes are bathed in a sort of warning, gleaming out at you through the thick atmosphere.  You like that expression, very much.
"Make you?" he wonders, leaning in and brushing his mouth over yours.  He watches you swallow, watches you shift a little beneath him.  He presses his member against your thigh and you dig your nails into the skin of his shoulders, anticipating, waiting.  But he is far from finished teasing you. 
He smirks widely.  "I'll make you do lots of things," he whispers, and his voice is throaty and dark, the husk of what it once was.  It makes you burn with desire, with uncontrollable lust.  You bite back a moan as his teeth nip at your ear, and your nails dig farther into his skin as though holding on for dear life. 
You want him.  Want him to take you hard and without mercy.  You are about to wonder where your slightly masochistic tendencies have arisen from when he erases your thoughts in one thick move.  His fingers roll over you core suddenly, without warning, and you gasp aloud at the zinging sensation that drills through your body.
Oh, he isn't done teasing you.  Not at all.  You can see it in his eyes as they leer down at you, and you can feel it in the tense way his body arches over yours.  His long fingers harshly pumps into you and it hurts a little, because you aren't quite ready for that sort of penetration.  But after a searing moment, the pain turns into twisted pleasure that makes it difficult to breathe, and you find yourself gasping and shaking from the effort.
Hayato merely watches you.  His eyes are narrowed slits that take in every single action you make, every shiver you try to hold back and every moan you bite down.  The fact that you're trying so hard to defy him makes him so turned on he can barely stand it.  His erection presses into you like a warning, and neither of you seem to be able to ignore it.  But he doesn’t want to take you just yet.  He is having too much fun watching you struggle.
"Hayato…" you moan, when his fingers increase their already rapid pace.  The way he is going, you're gonna come faster than ever.  You open your eyes to look up at him, taking in the sight of his face, the way his silver hair falls into his eyes, that way he appears to be waiting for something as he stares down at you.  What he is waiting for, you don't know, but when you murmur his name again, back arching just a little off the mattress, he seems to find it.  The next moment, Hayato is jerking his fingers back and you are suddenly cold, cold from the disappearance of his touch.
You frown and he chuckles, nudging you legs farther apart as he nestles himself between them.  Your eyes jerk down to him member, which is aching against your core, so close and yet so far.  When you look back up at your lover, he has this strange expression on his face.  Almost like realization, but different, softer.  He presses his forehead to yours and hums, breath wavering out and curling over your skin.
He kisses you in that same, soft manner.  It is so uncharacteristic of the moment, which has been so rough up until now, that it shocks you, excites you.  Hayato is so rarely gentle, but when he is your heart nearly explodes with warmth.  You love this reluctant side of him.  Love it so much that, as his hands drift over your body and he eases into you, you can hardly breathe.
He is slow, at first, but that changes the moment he callously hilts himself within you.  The move is so sudden that you let out a whimper, eyes wide and lips trembling from the pain.  Yes, Hayato can be gentle.  But he shows his emotions through his roughness, through his instinctually darker side.  You arch your back when he thrusts without giving you time to adjust.
"Hayato!" you whine, eyes burning with tears.  You aren't going to cry, they are just the result of his harsh movements on your body.  But you are going to give him a piece of your mind.  You hate it when he does this sort of thing.  It isn't love when he only takes and doesn't give.  And it makes your mad with fury.
He frowns and sighs, slowing down just a hair.  He won't apologize and he won't appear to be sorry.  Maybe he isn't.  But this pace is better, more humane, and soon he is making pleasure saturate your every pore.  You reach for him and tilt your head back, and his lips immediately nip and kiss at the tender flesh.
But soon it is not enough.  The role you are playing in this game has turned more submissive than dominant and you don't appreciate it.  You want to get him back for taking you before you were completely ready for him, too.  So you wait for the opportune moment, when he is burying a moan into your skin and has shed all sense of his harsh outer persona, and then you strike.
Before Hayato can even understand what has happened, he is laying on his back and you are sinking down on his erection.  And it feels so good that Hayato, at first, can only lay there and take it.  But then the realization of your move begins to make sense in his mind, and Hayato narrows his eyes up at you.  His large hands slip around your bottom, engulfing it as he drags you down roughly, impaling you on his shaft.  You bite back a moan and don't give in.  You can be fearless, brave, even in the face of your dominant lover.  And you'll show him that you're someone to be reckoned with.
So you move your hips faster, rolling them around his member and taking him as deeply into you as you can.  Your hands come up to rest on his chest, but they don't remain idle.  Soon, you are leaning down to lick one perk nipple, teeth biting gently and rolling it between playful, mischievous fingers.  And Hayato is beginning to see why he has stayed with you for as long as he has.  When motivated, you are an utter wildcat.
He bites his lips harshly to prevent a moan from escaping, but it is damned hard.  The way you are moving those hips, and that tongue, and those fingers are making him insane.  He is beginning to feel traces of an orgasm and he knows instinctively that it will be powerful, delirious.  He swallows down another moan, but some of it escapes.  The slight whimpering sound makes you jerk your eyes up to his and smirk vividly.  Hayato feels his cheeks explode with an annoying blush and you chuckle, hips roughly caressing his as your pace increases.  You will drag that orgasm right out from under him.  You will bury him so far into those delicious little whimpers that he won't be able to do anything but lay there and moan.
You careen backwards, suddenly lifting yourself off his member.  The look in his eye tells you that he has no idea what you're doing, and his confusion makes you somehow even more turned on.  The absence of him makes you pound, makes you delirious with lust that you can hardly move.  But you do, you turn around and face the wall before sinking back down and taking him into you once more.  And this new position makes you both gasp and hurtle forward as your orgasms lick at your skin and begin to drown within you.
"Fuck," you hear Hayato ground out, his teeth clenched as he watches your intertwined bodies.  The sight of his cock being driven into your wet core makes him want to come.  But he doesn't, yet.  He staves off that impulse with pride.  He will not come before you, not this time.  He needs to watch you come undone before he can hope to find release.  Even so, he curses louder, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.  That delicious sight will only make him come faster. 
You arch your back and moan, Hayato's name filling the static silence around you.  It feels good to say his name, like a tribute, like a sacred murmur of emotion.  You push yourself back onto his member and roll your hips again.  He grabs your hips and curses at the intense feeling, his hand coming down to slap your skin roughly.  The suddenness of his move makes your pleasure jolt forward.  The coil within you is shattering a moment later and you're suddenly coming, flying into a world that makes you cry out.
Hayato drags his hazy vision back to you, to the way your back arches forward, the way your thrusting faster than ever.  He growls out and watches you come, wishing that he could watch your expression as well.  Instead, he focuses on the strain of your body, the tension that releases from your limbs, the way you jerk up and down and his cock and cry out his name again and again. 
And the sight of you makes him come, too, makes him so ready to spill himself that he doesn't bother trying to stop it.  He throws his head back forcefully, slamming into the headboard, and grits his teeth.  He can't stop the flow of curses that come spilling from his lips, just as he can't stop the seed that spills into you.  He is strangely helpless in the face of this lust, this passion.  He surrenders like he never has before, coming undone in a similarly helpless manner as his hips lift yours up with the force of his thrusts.
You look at him over your shoulder, pleased.  It isn't every day that you give into that sliver of dominance.  But you know that Hayato loves it, though he'll never admit it.  He likes when you're assertive, likes when you take control of things.  And so before he has completely finished dragging out his pleasure, you lift your hips away mid-thrust and you turn back around to face his sudden glares.
He is angry with you for cutting him off, but you don't care.  Instead, you crawl back over his form and he all but smashes his hips back to yours, cursing again as he enters you.  You let him, even though having him thrust into you like this doesn't really bring you pleasure anymore.  Your orgasm has made you satiated, full.  But he isn't quite finished dragging out the singing bliss, and so you simply watch him as he closes his eyes and sighs out.  And then you lean down and kiss him, because suddenly you want to show him that you love him, however silently.  To your surprise, Hayato hesitates for only a second before kissing you back.
You sink back down onto his member as his thrusts stop.  You are content to remain like this, in this state of unchanging happiness.  Your lips move gently with each other and soon, Hayato is tugging you back to his chest, rolling you over and slipping out of you.  His leg jerks between both of yours in a tangle of limbs, your arms raveling around skin and fingers threading through hair as your lips move.  Gently, furiously, always contradicting.
And then Hayato is pulling you closer, hand softly stroking up and down you back as your lips go slower, beginning a sort of sacred rhythm that makes you want to cry out in that searing happiness.  He kisses you deeply, and then he pulls away to press kisses to your forehead, your cheek, your eyelid.  And as you close your eyes and snuggle against his body, you hear him whisper, "I'm most afraid of losing you."
For a moment, you are confused.  You open your eyes and look into his, which are staring at you in something akin to expectation.  Then you remember your question before all this passion started.  And you smile, smile as if you are the happiness woman alive.  Maybe you are. 
"Hayato," you whisper, feeling your heart fill with love.  You are about to say something more, like how sweet he is, or how much you love him, but he doesn't let you.
His cheeks are pink when he kisses you roughly, dragging you back into his dominance.  "Shut up, woman," he mutters, unwilling to let you say anything that might degrade his manliness.  He is not sweet and he never will be, but that is ok.  As you smile and kiss him back, you decide that you don't want him to be sweet.  You have long accepted him for who he is.  Rough, dominant, crass, and reluctantly loving.  



  1. Hello :) I'd just love to say how much I love all of your works. You're a stunning writer and how you care for your readers is amazing. I recently ran across a wattpad account which held a writers attempt to steal your work, only for them to post a screenshot of messages between you and them saying your opinion on plagiarism. They called you selfish in which I had to laugh at. Selfish for what? Wanting your works where you post them? Yeah. I agree in your anti plagiarism ideals and wanted to share this with your other fans ^_^ keep being awesome and know us fans have your back. Also like the other fans have commented ;) write a novel already x

    1. Huh? Who did that? I don't remember this |D
      Usually I just report them without bothering to tell them first. They don't bother asking me to repost my things, so I don't feel bad! But thank you! My readers are the only reason I even write smut anymore...besides the fact that it's fun of course ;)
      Yes, one day I will write a novel. It will have smutty scenes that will make parents have panic attacks across the globe. Hehe. <3