This Day26 of kinkober and is a collaboration with @wildandsmile. The prompt is lingerie. Enjoy!
The hinges groaned like old bones bending. Rainwater dripped onto hardwood in uneven taps. A muddy sandal scraped against the entryway tile.
You traced the lace edge of your thigh-high stocking beneath silk sheets, listening to the shuffle of damp flak vest hitting the floor. His scent preceded him ozone, tea, and the metallic tang of blood not quite washed off. The bedroom door creaked open; shadow pooled where hallway light didn't reach.
Kakashi paused mid-step, book slipping from his grip. Pages fluttered against floorboards as his visible eye snapped from your tangled hair to the dip of black satin between your breasts. His breath hitched sharp and audible. "Mission ran late," he rasped, voice rougher than river stones.
You arched one bare foot slowly against rumpled linen. "I noticed." Rainwater dripped from his hair onto tatami mats. Neither of you moved. His knuckles whitened on the doorframe. Something fractured in his stillness the rigid control dissolving into jagged edges.
He crossed the room in three strides. Calloused fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face up. No mask. No smile. Just dilated pupils swallowing grey iris whole as his thumb brushed your lower lip. "Don't," he warned thickly, but the tremble in his palm betrayed him. "Don't tempt a tired man."
You bit his thumb lightly, a challenge. Salt and rain flooded your tongue. His restraint snapped. Hands plunged into your hair, dragging you up against damp flak vest fabric smelling of wet earth and old iron. His mouth crashed over yours, hungry and unyielding, tasting of storm and desperation. Silk sheets ripped beneath your clutching fingers.
He broke the kiss, panting raggedly against your throat. Teeth scraped your pulse point. "Last chance," he growled, voice vibrating through bone. "Tell me to stop." You arched into him, answer enough. Fabric tore as he wrenched lace aside. “Kakashi!” You gasp, cold air hit exposed skin, then searing heat where his palm claimed your hip, branding flesh.
Outside, thunder shook the windowpanes. Inside, Kakashi's control shattered completely. No more hesitation. No more shadows. Just lightning in his eyes as he pinned your wrists above your head, his knee forcing your thighs apart. "Mine," he rasped, the word raw as an open wound. Rain hammered the roof like desperate applause.
“I wore this just for you Kakashi,” you gasped against his mouth, fingers tangling in silver hair slicked dark with rainwater. The chill of his wet flak vest seeped through your lingerie, stealing your breath until his palm slid rough and possessive up your inner thigh, callouses catching on lace. Outside, lightning cracked open the sky, illuminating the sweat-slicked ridge of his jaw as he bit your collarbone hard enough to bruise. He didn’t ask permission; his knee pressed higher, dragging a sharp cry from your throat, the sound swallowed by thunder.
He leaned back just enough to rip the torn satin away completely, his gaze scalding as it traced every curve left bare. Rainwater dripped from his hair onto your stomach, cold shocks against flushed skin. His thumb swept over your lower lip again, smearing rainwater and the faint copper tang of blood from where his teeth had grazed you earlier. “Still want this?” he demanded, voice low and dangerous, betraying the frayed edge of his restraint. You arched beneath him, “Y-yes!” digging your heel into the small of his back, silent urge. His answering growl vibrated against your sternum.
The world narrowed to the frantic slide of skin on skin, the frantic rhythm of his hips grinding against yours, the damp mattress groaning beneath the shifting weight. His mouth found yours again, hotter, deeper, tongue demanding surrender. You tasted rain, exhaustion, and the raw, desperate need he’d buried beneath missions and masks. His thigh pressed insistently high between yours, friction and pressure building like a gathering storm. Your nails scored down his spine beneath the wet fabric, drawing a ragged groan torn from somewhere primal.
Lightning flashed again, throwing their entwined shadows sharp and wild against the wall, a fleeting glimpse of him braced above you, silver hair plastered dark against his brow, grey eyes burning with unleashed hunger. Thunder rolled overhead, drowning out the choked gasp ripped from you as his fingers tightened bruisingly on your hips, anchoring you beneath him. The air crackled, thick with ozone and shared breath, the storm outside mirroring the violence breaking loose within the room.
His gaze locked onto yours, a silent challenge, a predator assessing prey willing to be devoured. Then, with deliberate slowness, he slid down your body. The rasp of wet flak vest against damp skin was a harsh counterpoint to the frantic drumming of rain. His calloused palms trailed fire down your ribs, over the trembling plane of your stomach, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. He paused, his breath hot against your inner thigh, a tremor running through him like a plucked wire. One hooked finger caught the soaked, torn lace edge of your panties.
His breath hitched, hot gusts against your damp skin as he hooked the ruined lace with a knuckle. "Beautiful," he rasped, voice thick and strained. You lifted your head, finding his gaze locked onto yours, pupils blown wide and dark, reflecting the frantic lightning outside. With agonizing slowness, he dragged the scrap of fabric aside, exposing you completely to the charged air and his burning scrutiny. Rainwater traced paths down his temple, dripping onto your thigh like cold punctuation marks.
His tongue traced a searing path up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, deliberate and relentless. You whimpered, fingers knotting in his rain-sodden hair, holding him there as much as urging him on. He paused, breathing ragged against your heat, the humid air thick with ozone and your own arousal. "Kakashi—" His name fractured into a gasp as his mouth closed over you, hot and demanding, tongue circling with devastating precision. Lightning flared, bleaching the room white, illuminating the taut muscles of his shoulders bunched beneath wet fabric.
The first shuddering gasp tore from your throat, sharp and involuntary. His answering growl vibrated against your core as he delved deeper, tongue relentless, stoking a wildfire that burned hotter than any jutsu. Your hips arched off the soaked sheets, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of the devastating pleasure he inflicted with such fierce focus. Fingers tightened convulsively in his hair, nails scraping his scalp, a silent plea for release or continuation, you weren't sure which. Rain hammered the roof in a deafening counterpoint to the slick, desperate sounds filling the charged air between you. Thunder rolled, shaking the floorboards beneath the futon, a physical echo of the tremors building low in your belly.
His tongue lashed your clit with rough, rhythmic strokes, each pass sending electric shocks through your nerves. You cried out, back arching off the drenched sheets, fingers tearing at his scalp. He held you down with bruising force, relentless hunger in every flick and suck. Then, without warning, two calloused fingers breached you, stretching deep and sudden. A choked gasp ripped from your throat as he curled them inward, pressing hard against that sweet, hidden spot while his mouth never left your clit, devouring you with wet, hungry sounds. Lightning flashed, illuminating the fierce concentration on his face, eyes shut, lips sealed around you, silver hair dark and dripping. Thunder drowned your ragged moans.
He dragged you to the precipice with ruthless efficiency, fingers pistoning faster, tongue circling tighter. Pressure coiled like a spring in your belly, tight, unbearable, inevitable. When release tore through you, it felt like shattering glass: sharp, blinding, utterly consuming. Your thighs clamped around his head as tremors wracked your body, a silent scream caught in your throat. Kakashi drank every spasm, fingers still working you through the aftershocks, prolonging the agony-ecstasy until you collapsed back onto the soaked linen, gasping. Only then did he lift his head, rainwater and your slickness gleaming on his chin. His grey eyes burned, feral and satisfied.
“I could eat you for days,” Kakashi rasped, rainwater dripping from his jawline onto your trembling stomach. His gaze lingered on your spent form, predatory and possessive, before surging upward with sudden violence. Calloused hands seized your hips, flipping you onto your belly with bruising force. Silk sheets clung wetly as he hauled your hips back against him, pressing you into the mattress. You gasped at the raw friction of his erection grinding against your soaked cleft, the damp flak vest rough against your spine. His breath hit your ear, hot and ragged: “Not done.”
His knee forced your thighs wider apart as his palm slid possessively up your spine, pinning you beneath his weight. You felt the damp flak vest rasp against your naked back, the cold metal clasps biting into your skin as he shifted. "Look at you," he growled, voice vibrating through bone. "All mine." Rainwater dripped from his hair onto the small of your back, cold shocks against fevered skin, as his free hand gripped your hip, thumb digging into the bruise forming there. You buried your face in tangled sheets smelling of sex and storm, arching instinctively against the hard line of his arousal pressed against you.
His palm cracked down hard on your ass cheek, a sharp, stinging slap that echoed in the thunder's lull. You gasped into the sheets, the heat blooming instantly beneath your skin. Before you could react, fabric rustled urgently behind you. The rasp of a zipper cut through the rain-hum, deliberate and final. Then his hand was back, spreading you wider, calloused thumb pressing against your swollen entrance. You felt him, hot, rigid, and slick with pre-come, nudge against you, the blunt head demanding entry.
He pressed forward without preamble, sinking into your slick heat with a single, brutal thrust. You cried out, muffled against wet silk, back arching sharply as he filled you completely, stretching, burning. Kakashi hissed through clenched teeth, his grip bruising on your hips as he paused, buried to the hilt. Rainwater dripped steadily from his hair onto your spine, the cold shock a stark counterpoint to the searing fullness inside you. His ragged breath hit your ear, sharp as shattered glass. "Tight," he rasped, voice raw with strain. "So fucking tight, so perfect."
He withdrew slowly, dragging every ridge against your sensitive walls, drawing a ragged gasp from your throat. Then he slammed back in with punishing force, hips snapping forward hard enough to drive the breath from your lungs. The rhythm was brutal from the start: deep, relentless thrusts that punched through your oversensitive nerves until pleasure and pain blurred into a single white-hot ribbon. Rain slapped the windowpanes in time with the wet slap of flesh on flesh. Kakashi groaned low in his chest, a feral sound torn from somewhere primal, as he hooked an arm around your waist, hauling you back onto him harder with every drive of his hips.
His thrusts grew erratic, fast, hard, punishing, each slam driving you deeper into sweat-soaked linen. Rainwater dripped from his brow onto your shoulder blades, mingling with the salt-slick heat between your bodies. You bit the pillow to stifle cries, knuckles white on tangled sheets, but Kakashi ripped it away. "Scream for me" he growled, wrenching your head back by your hair. Grey eyes burned into yours, pupils blown wide, reflecting lightning flashes. "Say who ruins you." Thunder swallowed your choked sob as he angled deeper, hitting a spot that shattered coherence. Stars burst behind your eyelids.
“K-Kakashi!, you do—” Your cry fractured into a gasp as his hips snapped forward, driving deeper still. He held you pinned against the mattress, your back flush against his damp flak vest, cold metal clasps biting into your spine with each brutal thrust. Rainwater dripped steadily from his hair onto your shoulder blades, icy trails against the fevered skin where his teeth had marked you. His hand tangled tighter in your hair, wrenching your head back further. "Say it again," he demanded, voice ragged as torn cloth, breath hot and wet against your ear. "Say who owns this."
“K-Kakashi” you moan, Kakashi smiles wickedly, his palm slid rough and possessive up your stomach, fingers splaying wide over your ribs before closing over the swell of your breast. Calloused thumb circled your nipple through damp lace, deliberate pressure drawing a sharp gasp as the fabric scraped oversensitive flesh. Sweat dripped from his jawline onto your shoulder, icy beads against the flush of arousal, as his other hand slipped lower. Knuckles brushed your inner thigh before calloused fingers found your clit, slick and swollen. He pressed down with bruising precision, grinding slow circles that stole your breath mid-cry. Lightning flashed, illuminating the fierce concentration in his eyes, grey iris swallowed by pupil, fixed on your face as he mapped every tremor his touch evoked.
Thunder cracked again, shaking the room as Kakashi’s fingers worked your clit with relentless pressure, thumb circling slow and heavy while his hips drove into you with savage precision. Rainwater slicked his hair to your shoulder blades, cold trails mingling with sweat as you arched off the mattress, chasing friction, chasing release, only for him to pin you deeper into soaked silk. His breath rasped against your ear: "Louder." You gasped his name, the syllables fracturing as lightning flashed, bleaching the room white and throwing his shadow monstrous against the wall, a silver-haired demon devouring you whole.
His fingers dug into your breast, thumb grinding mercilessly over your nipple as his other hand maintained its bruising rhythm on your clit, each circle a lightning strike to your nerves. You arched wildly, a strangled scream tearing loose as pleasure detonated white-hot behind your eyelids, muscles clamping tight around his thrusting length. Kakashi snarled low in his throat, hips slamming harder, deeper, driving you through the convulsions until your limbs trembled against the soaked sheets. Rainwater trickled down his temple onto your collarbone, cold punctuation to the wildfire consuming you.
His hips snapped forward with renewed frenzy, driving deep into your clelching heat as your climax still pulsed through you. Rainwater streamed down Kakashi’s temple, mingling with sweat and your slickness on his jawline as he buried his face against your shoulder. Teeth scraped your pulse point sharp, possessive, while his fingers tightened bruisingly on your hipbone. "Again," he growled against damp skin, the vibration shuddering through your ribs. "Come for me." His thumb circled your swollen clit with ruthless precision, dragging a ragged sob from your throat as fresh tremors sparked beneath his touch.
The command ignited a wildfire beneath your skin. Kakashi’s fingers dug into your hipbone, thumb grinding relentless circles as his hips drove deeper with each thrust, hard, possessive, tearing another ragged cry from your throat. Rainwater dripped steadily from his brow onto your collarbone, cold trails against the fevered flush of your skin, but it couldn’t quench the heat coiling tighter in your belly. Lightning flashed, bleaching the room white; in that split second, his grey eyes were pure hunger, pupils blown wide as he watched you unravel. Thunder swallowed your choked gasp as your body arched sharply, muscles clenching around him in violent tremors, a second, sharper climax tearing through you like shrapnel.
Kakashi’s thrusts turned frantic, a desperate rhythm that matched the storm’s fury outside, hard, deep, punishing strokes that drove the mattress springs to scream beneath you. Sweat slicked his brow, mingling with rainwater as he pinned you down, his ragged breaths hot against your ear. "That’s it," he rasped, fingers digging bruises into your hips. "Take it." Lightning flashed, freezing the savage arch of his spine in stark relief, muscles coiled like a predator’s. Thunder swallowed your gasps as his palm cracked down on your ass again, sharp pain blooming into liquid heat that pooled low in your belly.
He drove deeper still, hips snapping forward with bruising force, no rhythm left, only raw need. Sweat dripped from Kakashi’s jaw onto your spine, trailing icy paths as his fingers dug bruises into your hips, anchoring you against each punishing thrust. Rain battered the windowpanes like frantic fists, drowning out everything but the wet slap of skin on skin and his ragged grunts against your shoulder blade. Lightning flashed again, freezing his shadow against the wall, all coiled muscle and silver hair plastered dark to his temples, before thunder swallowed the world whole. His hand tangled in your hair, wrenching your head back as his hips pistoned faster, deeper, driving you face-first into sweat-slicked silk. "Say it!" he snarled, voice raw as gravel. "Who owns you?"
"Y-you!" The word tore from your throat, ragged and desperate, as Kakashi slammed deeper, forcing the breath from your lungs. His answering growl vibrated against your spine, primal and triumphant. Rainwater dripped steadily from his temple onto your shoulder blade, icy punctuation to the wildfire consuming your nerves. His fingers tightened bruisingly in your hair, holding you pinned as his hips snapped forward again harder, deeper, each thrust grinding you against the soaked silk, friction igniting fresh tremors low in your belly. Outside, thunder cracked like a whip.
His hips slammed forward one final time, deep, impossibly deep, as Kakashi buried himself fully inside you. Rainwater streamed down the windowpanes like liquid shadows, blurring the outside world into insignificance. You choked on his name, knuckles white on tangled sheets, as his groan ripped through the charged air, raw, guttural, vibrating against your spine. Lightning flashed, bleaching the room white for a heartbeat, freezing the sweat-slicked arch of his back, every muscle coiled and trembling. Then thunder swallowed sound as his release hit, a hot flood that pulsed deep within you, matching the frantic drumming of rain on the roof.
Rainwater traced paths down Kakashi’s spine as his weight settled heavy over you, a tremor running through him like a snapped wire. His breath rasped hot against your nape, ragged and uneven, while his calloused palm slid damply from your hip to splay across your stomach. Possessive. Anchoring. Outside, the storm softened to a low rumble; inside, the air hung thick with sweat, ozone, and the raw musk of release. You stirred weakly beneath him, muscles liquid and trembling, only for his arm to tighten like a steel band. "Stay," he growled, the word rough but stripped of its earlier violence, a command softened at the edges by exhaustion.
Kakashi shifted his weight, rolling you both onto your sides without withdrawing, his arm still locked around your waist, pulling your back flush against his damp flak vest. Rainwater seeped cold through the fabric where the clasps dug into your spine, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his skin. His breath warmed the nape of your neck in uneven bursts, slower now but still raw-edged. Outside, thunder faded to a distant murmur; inside, the silence thickened with the drumming rain and the slick sound of his softening length still buried deep within you. His calloused thumb traced idle circles on your hipbone, a silent claim etched in bruises and sweat.
You decide that maybe you should wear lingerie more often, and also a plug. You can’t wait for next week.
