Sunday, October 6, 2013

A Makoto Tachibana Lemon -- Dash

Character: Makoto Tachibana

Fandom: Free! Iwatobi Swim Club

OC: Ayaka Mitsuki, short hair, bubbly

Inspiration: A pool, I s'pose. :3

It is a sunny day.  The air is warm and curdling beneath the sun, which blinks down on shimmering water with a certain dazzling brightness.  The afternoon is slowly dragging into evening, colored waves of sunset begin to shift across the sky.  Clouds speckle the horizon, graying over the tops of the trees on either side of the pool.  The pool, which houses three of four swimmers as they cut through the water like they were born there.  The other swimmer is resting, sitting with his legs dangling into the water and looking up at the sky, chest heaving from the intense workout that he has only just come out of.
"Haru," the sound of his name makes his head turn, and Haru glances up at the figure of the young woman who is often loitering around the pool with Ko.  Ayaka hands him a bottle of water and he takes it gratefully, uncapping it and bringing it to his mouth.  She smiles and turns her eyes to watch the other swimmers, trying not to stare for too long at one in particular, who seems to effortlessly glide through the water.  She clears her throat and murmurs, "Ko told me to let you know that she's hosting a celebration party tonight at the restaurant just down the street.  She just left to make sure the reservations are in order."  The small talk makes Haru nod, his usual unconcerned expression drifting over his features. 
He leans back just as Rei and Makoto finish their lap, coming over to join Haru.  Nagisa also swims over a few moments later, his bright eyes smiling.  Ayaka relays the same message to them and Rei nods, replacing his goggles with his glasses and pushing them up the bridge of his nose.  "That sounds…nice," he says idly, trying not to appear as though he enjoys the idea of eating out with his new teammates.  Nagisa cheers and heaves himself out of the pool, throwing his arms around Ayaka and laughing when she squeals and tries to push him off of her.  Her clothes are wet and wrinkled but she doesn't care that much, and Nagisa knows it.  She blushes a little when she noticed Makoto looking at her, his eyes filled with a sort of siphoned emotion that she knows very well, and he gives her a smile that perfectly coincides with his eyes.  Secretive, promising.  She looks away.
"I'll go get dressed," Nagisa says, dancing off to the dressing rooms, his eyes starry with the thought of food.  Haru drifts away too, but Rei frowns and looks back at the water.  "I'll stay a little longer," he claims, and slips back into the pool.  Makoto looks up at Ayaka and raises an eyebrow.  His voice raises over everyone's ears but it is clear to Ayaka that he is directing his sentence to her.  "I'll stay too.  A few more laps."  And he gives her that smile, which is kind on the outside and yet so dark within, slivered through with traces of what she knows can become scorching, passionate fire.
It is another fifteen minutes before Rei finally pulls himself out of the pool, dries off, and bids them goodbye and a short 'see you soon'.  He is heading off to meet the others at the restaurant, assuming that Makoto and Ayaka will be along soon after him.  But what he doesn't know, what he hasn't noticed, is the burning gazes and impatient looks exchanged between the other two.  And by the time he leaves, Makoto wants nothing more than to stay at the edge of the pool, toss her down, and show her a world that she is all too happy to sink into.
"I thought he'd never leave," Ayaka said with a jilted smile.  She slips her legs into the pool after wrestling her school socks off and sighs out at the cool water.  Makoto smiles back, eyes washing through with the sunset.  He swims to the edge and eases himself between those legs, much to Ayaka's surprise.  Her short skirt rises up delightfully and she tries to push it back down, but Makoto snatches her wrists before she can and gives her a delicious smirk.
He heaves himself into the air, raising himself up until he is level with Ayaka, and then he leans in to capture her lips with his, pushing her back a little from the shaky force.  She laughs against his mouth, which careens into her without any semblance of his usual patience, and drags her arms around his neck.  Her clothes are already wet from Nagisa's hug, so she doesn't even care when they get wetter.  She would give up more for a kiss from Makoto.
His knee juts onto the paved cement and he pushes her down, slowly, gently.  Even in moments like these he is kind, his eyes reflecting a sort of dazed happiness that makes her feel pure, beautiful.  She brings him down with her until his nearly bare body is flush against her fully clothed one, and Ayaka cannot remember a time where she'd wanted him more.  Not when she could feel his erection burning quite clearly through her skirt, which has lapped up like waves onto her thighs.  Not when his kisses are dragging her easily down into a sort of decadence she can't really explain, only knows it to be the more lovely thing she's ever had.
Her fingers tangle through his hair and he pushes his lips against hers again, cradling her head with his, the backs of his hands brushing against hot cement.  They kiss slowly, heatedly for a long minute before he steps it up by flicking his tongue into her already parted mouth.  She moans and opens her mouth wider, her own tongue rushing out to meet his.  And as they mold against each other, she can't help but moan again, drag him closer, curl both her legs around his waist and murmur his name lowly into his fierce kiss.
His eyes fly open because it is the sweetest sound he's heard in a long time.  Because it makes shivers erupt throughout the entirety of his body.  It makes blood rush down, makes his cock twitch against the restraints of his swim suit.  He breathes out harshly, dragging her deeper into the kiss as his hands fly over her body.  He suddenly doesn't care about the restaurant, or the fact that they had very little privacy at the edge of this pool.  He cannot move now.  Not when she is all too willing to follow him straight into hell.  So it is with a twisted sort of confidence that he dips his wet hands into her shirt and watches her pull back with a moaning gasp.
His hands are gentle even as they grab her covered breasts, fingers roughly easing over the lacy fabric of her bra.  The strange control Makoto seems to have perfected, the way he always remains on the edge of the line between soft and hard romance, it makes Ayaka crazy with want.  Her hands rise up to slid over his, atop her shirt, and she looks up at him through wide, purring eyes that melt him down in the most delicious way possible.  Her legs drag him closer and when she moans again from the feel of his hard erection, his hands squeeze over her breasts and then he lifts up the rest of her shirt, dragging it over her head.
Her bra doesn't cover much of her.  It is one of those lacy ones that shows skin even through the dashes and jetties of threadwork.  Makoto looks down at it with those eyes, which are dark as well as light and have the potential to make Ayaka insane.  Then his hands drag over her breasts again, and he is silently awed at the soft way her flesh warms and molds against his skin.  He leans down to kiss her again, shortly, briefly, before dragging those lips to kiss over the top of each breast and then down farther, to curve over that sinful lace.  Lace that makes his heart pump deliciously in his chest.  Lace that has his cock all but straining up against his suit.
She shivers and trembles beneath him, lips wavering as though she were praying silently.  His tongue scorches heat right through the fabric, his lips burning a lingering trail of fire over her covered skin.  He drags that heat over her nipples, down the circle the bottom of her, and then when he has grown tired of that lace, Makoto eases his hands around her back to search for the hook.  It takes a few moments for him to undo the complicated clasp, during which he all but growls out an uncharacteristic curse.  But when he finally does, his lips all but swoop back down to capture that soft skin and she's in heaven, flying high from the hot way her body reacts to that mouth, that tongue, his kisses.
Her fingers tangle into his fine hair again.  One hand drags further down to splay against his back, his shoulder blade, over his neck.  She breathes out his name impatiently and he raises his head, surprised to see the high levels of lust threaded through her gaze.  But he recognizes those eyes for what they are: a plead.  And he finds himself grinning before he can help himself, pleased in a boyish, smug way that he could have made her like this.  Made her want him this much.
Makoto raises himself up with a chuckle, kneeling before her and just looking down at her.  Her skirt is shifted up her thighs, revealing the perfect amount of pale flesh before it delved into her knee highs, which ease just a few inches up her knees.  He palms her thighs, push them farther apart, and then his fingertips dip up to her cotton panties, which seem to be almost waiting for him.  She watches him with wide, apprehensive eyes that drill him down, shake him to his core and make him smile that evasive, gentle-but-somehow-dark smile.  Then he is hooking his fingers around her panties and dragging them off her legs with a vengeance, tossing them behind him, where they land and begin to sink into the pool. 
The move makes Ayaka gape up at him and rise onto her hands, half sitting as she stares in disbelief.  "Did you really just - Oh!" her head falls back, her mouth parting into silent moans.  His fingers twist against her wet heat and she trembles, inching closer to him.  Makoto chuckles idly and pushes a long finger into her core, slowly, watching her expression turn hotter and hotter the further it gets.  She falls back onto her elbows and her legs squeeze around his waist.
It is a sight he will not soon forget.  He ducks his head down to press a tender kiss against her knee, and she glares halfhearted at him.  She suddenly doesn't care that he has systematically ruined her panties.  Doesn't even care that someone will have to dive back into the pool to recover them.  His touch has made a stronger need rise up within her and she will be loath to see it unattended.  So she grits her teeth and whispers, "Makoto…nng!  Pl-please, Makoto…!"  And the way she says his name, with those slivers of lust and something more, something deeper, makes him grunt out a sort of agreement and push her back down.
His fingers jerk out of her.  He turns them on himself, hurriedly pushing down the restraints of his swimsuit.  But he doesn't have the patience to remove it entirely, and so it sits at his thighs.  Still, the sight he makes, his cock curling up in arousal, his chest heaving, kneeling in front of her like that, it makes her drag him forward again.  She moans when his hard shaft grinds against her core, moans again when he does it purposefully the next time, with an amused, knowing smile painted across his lips. 
But that smile is all but erased during the next moments.  She watches him line himself up and the moment he is inside her, Ayaka arches and whines, pain and pleasure both tearing a systematic path through her.  At first, discomfort wins out.  Makoto remains as still as he can, arms straining to keep his weight up as he hovers over her.  It is only when her hips begin to thrust into his, when he sees most of the pain wash out from her eyes, that he begins to move.  And by then there is only hot, erotic pleasure that shoots them through their veins and their hearts and their bodies.
She exhales long, curling her arms around his neck, dragging his mouth down to hers so that she can kiss him.  The way he pushes her down into the pavement, rattling her body with harsh, quick thrusts makes her kiss him hard, ready to pour out all her love and everything else that stirs within her.  She can't possibly define the emotions that rise up in her chest but she doesn't want to, doesn't care to.  They were delicious just as they are, hidden power that squeezes the life into her veins and makes it rush through her. 
"Makoto," she whispers, eyes rolling back, head thrown behind.  Her pale, long neck is revealed to him and he rushes forward to press his mouth against it, straining to kiss as much as her as he possibly can within the short time that they have as one entity.  Behind them the water laps, laps against the walls of the pool, crashes into their reverie and makes them push faster toward the end that is only just beginning to seize them.
His cock is her personal drug that she is losing her mind from.  The feel of him inside her, writhing against her, pushing past all her walls and barriers in both physical and emotional ways has her gasping out.  She clutches him with fingers that dig gently into his skin, wrack down his bare back, leave soft red scratches over pale, muscled skin.  And he shivers from the intense feel of her moving beneath him, her hips jostling into his in her fierce quest to feel as much of him as possible.  She is so gently normally, but the way she makes love is as though she is overflowing with erratic lust that drives him down into the sort of bliss he only ever feels when he's inside of her. 
Her orgasm rips a path directly through her body and she gasps, louder than before.  Her moan tells him just what he already know, instinctively as he feels her muscles contract around his girth.  It feels delicious and he thrusts faster, getting high from the intense feeling of her tight core dragging him towards a dazzling end.  He grunts, a long drawn out moan spilling into her ear.  His hips shift faster than ever and she is literally clutching onto him for her very life.  Her hips careen forward, upward, pushing against his and feeling him push against her and knowing that there will be bruises.  But she doesn't care and she is falling, falling, falling.  Sinking and drowning against him and loving every minute of it.
"Ohhhhh…!" she breathes, feeling him spill into her.  The heat of his finish gives her a sort of diluted peace that perforates throughout her entire body.  She feels him sagging against her and holds him close to her chest, every inch of him pressed to every inch of her.  Her body is scalding, searing from him and all Ayaka can do is lay there on the cement, gasping and wishing that they could start over, from the beginning. 
But there is no time.  The sun is nearly gone.  The evening is making a comeback and they suddenly remember that they are supposed to be somewhere, that there are people waiting for them.  This reminder makes Makoto gasp and say, "The restaurant!  I completely forgot!"  He pushes himself off of Ayaka and helps her up, pausing for a second before diving into the pool to retrieve her sodden panties.  He hands them to her with a grin and she laughs because the entire situation is ridiculous. 
"They're ruined," she tells him with a half hearted glare.  But she rings them out as best she can and pulls them on anyway, because there's no time to go home and change, or even to stop somewhere and buy new ones.  They are already ridiculously late.  He smirks, watching her frown from the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes.  Then Makoto saunters off to the changing rooms, grasping her wrist and pulling her with him.
"I think we can afford to waste a little more time," he tells her, eyes flashing into hers.  He pulls her into his arms and kisses her, and she giggles, tugging her arms around him and humming out in agreement.
"What the hell," she mutters, dragging him into the empty changing rooms.  They might as well make the most of it all.  She grins and kisses him again, and they let themselves enjoy the next slivers of solitude before they are forced to break apart, get dressed, and go about their lives.



  1. God bless your soul for writing this amazing lemon I LOVE MAKO

    p.s. thank you for not writing yaoi.

  3. I love this please make a haruka lemon

  4. I love all of your lemons. Can u please make a haruka lemon.

  5. Reading all these Free lemons makes me want a Seijuro Mikoshiba one, he needs love too~ ;3

  6. This is impressive, good job! Do you have any advice on how to write such well written works? If you don't mind that is.