drippy yakuza bug boi🐛💜

You woke with your body ablaze despite all the blankets on the bed being pushed aside to make room for the body between your legs. Every nerve stood on its end as you slowly came to register the slow licks to your burning clit. Reaching for Corbeau, you grabbed his hair and dug your fingertips into his scalp, mumbling his name under your breath.

He peeked up at you, golden eyes wide and bright without his glasses. Corbeau’s lips twisted into a smile. “Good morning, my love.” Leisurely, almost, he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, and sucked. He clearly had already been between your legs for a bit.

You responded with a soft whine, arching your hips upwards. He pressed a palm to your pubic bone, keeping you still. His fingertips were cold, sliding under the fabric of the shirt that hung loosely on your side- one of his violet work shirts, unbuttoned and wrinkled, a silent invitation for him to wake you however he pleased.

Corbeau hummed with your clit still between his lips, the vibration working its way up your spine. He took a heavy breath, licking a long stripe upwards, nose bumping your clit again on the way up. “Delicious.” His voice was low, still groggy with sleep. “Divine.”

In response, you pulled on his hair the way you knew he liked, encouraging him to continue. Following a hard suck, Corbeau lifted his head to meet your gaze, his lips soaked and glistening in the morning sun that peaked through the curtains. “You’re right,” he said, leaning down to kiss your hip, “we should do this more often.” He trailed across your skin and back between your legs, his lips hot to the touch. “Best breakfast I’ve ever had.” With that, he dived in, and began sucking and licking on your clit as if he truly was devouring a meal.

You squirmed, tugging on his hair particularly hard. He moaned into your flesh, and the roll of his hips into the mattress didn’t go unnoticed. “F-fuck.” Corbeau groaned, fingertips twitching against your hip, as if he was suddenly aware of his own burning desire. You could only imagine how hard he was against his boxers, which were probably soaked. The mental image made your stomach twist delightfully, and you pulled on his hair again. In response, he sucked harder on your clit, tongue pressing flat against the bud.

“M-my fucking beautiful angel.” Corbeau sighed, catching his breath between soft kisses to your inner thighs. His cheeks were flushed pink, a mix of hungry desire and soft admiration. “I love you.”

“I love you, beau.” You mumbled, hanging your head back on the pillow.

He placed a kiss directly on your clit. One, and then another, and another, until he was sucking once more. You were still burning, almost unbearably so. Clenching his head between your legs, his bedhead poking at your skin, you moaned for him. “Beau, please-“

Suddenly, he lifted his head and crawled over you, slamming his lips into yours. Your head spun. His erection poked at your thigh, painfully hard. “Don’t moan like that.” He grunted. “F-fuck, I need you. Right now.” His voice lilted upwards, “please. Please, can I-“

“Yes.” You whined, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, forcing his chest against yours. “Please.”

With one hand, he haphazardly attempted to pull his boxers off. You reached down to help him, maneuvering the fabric past his thighs, so his cock was free. When you brushed your hand over the tip he moaned, sticky precum dirtying your fingertips.

Corbeau’s alarm went off from the other side of the bed, loud and obnoxious, blaring of a jingle you’d come to hate. Before you could protest, though, he turned off the alarm and threw his phone across the room. It tumbled somewhere, sliding across the floor.

“Beau-“

“I can be late.” He continued to kiss you, drifting down your cheek and over your jaw. His teeth grazed your skin between kisses. Meanwhile, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining his tip with your entrance.“Traffic today is horrible. Nothing to be done about that.”

You couldn’t help but smile, running a hand through his hair. “No, I guess not.”

Corbeau pulled away, smirking gently, playfully. He leaned into your hand as it came down the side of his face, palm resting against your cheek. As he turned his head to kiss your palm, he pressed the tip of his cock inside you, leaving you with little time to adjust before sliding all the way inside, filing you completely. You both moaned.

Things were quiet in the royale. Far too quiet. 

Usually, when the battlezone opened up near the Rust Syndicate Headquarters like this, it’d be busier than ever. Teeming with not only the regular crowd you’d expect in the royale, but also with several of Corbeau’s grunts, scouting the place and rising up the ranks in his orders. 

They’d usually leave you be, politely averting their gaze and refusing to battle. The taboo of approaching you and risking his wrath weighing with heavy fear over their shoulders. Yet today, not only once but four times now had his people approached you. Battled you with the clear intent to lose, pushing you back until you were conveniently placed near the wall between their office and the entrance. 

Part of you figured out what they were doing as soon as you began being led in that direction, but another, far louder, part of you whispered that you should go along with it anyways. Play Corbeau’s game yet again, as fun and dangerous as it was. 

It was likely why you refused to acknowledge Philippe’s heavy footsteps coming up behind you up until he had a bag over your head and an iron grip around your waist, lifting you over his shoulder like you were a ragdoll and not his boss’ lover.

Which was not exactly the word you’d use to describe your relationship with Corbeau at this point, it sat on a weird zone between relationship and avoidance that you both refused to acknowledge. But whatever kept you playing this game would fly. 

He tossed you on the back of a syndicate van, your wrists carefully tied behind your back with a silken rope. Not tight enough to even count as a proper restraint, just to keep you mostly still.

The door shut behind you, and the silence embraced you with a freezing hesitance up until an even colder touch steadied your shoulder and  removed the bag from your head.

You blinked a few times, getting used to the dim lighting of the van as Corbeau’s ridiculously smug expression came into focus. 

You raised an eyebrow at him as he gently placed a finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“You should know better than to avoid me by now, treasure.” He provided, as if that were enough explanation for everything.

You scoffed. “And you should know better than to tie me up like this before you take me out to dinner, mister.”

Corbeau laughed, removing his hand from your chin and tracing the line of your neck with the tips of his fingers, down to where your off the shoulder shirt clung tightly to your chest.

“And where’s the fun in that?” He asked with a tone that toed the line of sarcastic and sincere. “Besides, I’ve made you dinner. More than once.”

“Weeks ago, aren’t you worried I might resent you for that?” You leaned forward into his touch, his eyes softening a little. “Shouldn’t you be worried about keeping the romance alive and all?”

“Oh, I am doing just that.” Corbeau cupped your chin again, tilting your face just a little closer to him. “Keeping things exciting and all.”

You laughed just a little bit, leaning to press a quick kiss against his lips. “You’re terrible.” 

“Well, yes.” Corbeau smiled, looking down on you with a genuine fondness that no one else ever got to see. “But you love it.” 

He kissed you like he’d never have another chance to do it, hands tangling in your hair, angling your head back like you were just a doll in his hands. His touch wandered down to your shoulders, then over to your chest, pressing and kneading against your breasts carefully before he tugged your shirt down.

Corbeau pulled away to look at your dishevelled form, your flushed skin, parted lips and heaving chest. He smiled like he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

“Like the view?” You pressed your lips together to hide a creeping smile, which he seemed to find beyond amusing, huffing a little laugh and running his hands delicately over the line of your jaw.

“I do. Gods, I really do.” Corbeau sighed, letting his touch dip lower to tug at your nipples in just the way he knew drove you mad. “Oh, I missed you.”

“I can tell.”

He leaned down to press a kiss against your neck, lingering over your pulse point with a playful nip before he moved lower, over your collarbone, down between your breasts. Corbeau pressed a light, playful nip at the side of your breast before taking your nipple into his mouth.

You couldn’t hold back a moan when he sucked it, biting your lip and letting it turn into a gasped out curse that had Corbeau giving you the smuggest little glance you’d ever seen.  The bastard really knew how to unravel you, and clearly he let it get to his head.

If your hands weren’t tied up, you’d have tugged on his hair, pushed him back and gotten on top of him to show him how you knew how to make him fall apart just as well.

Corbeau kept his hands steady at your hips, thumbing at the waistband of your trousers and teasing a touch under it every now and then. He took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a final suck that got a sound out of you that you would not admit to have made the next day. 

“You look so pretty when you’re at my mercy.” He sighed, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast that made a shudder course through your body. You wanted to press yourself closer to him, to beg for more.

You would not give him the satisfaction. 

“You’d look prettier if you were at mine.” You said, instead. Hating how your voice sounded breathy and needy. Hating how no matter how much you tried to stand your ground in this dance, one thing became clearer and clearer. Growing in your chest and making you think of him, getting dangerously close to a feeling you didn’t want to name. Not until he named it first.

“One day, treasure, one day.” 

Corbeau leaned down and pressed a kiss over your lower belly, looking up with desire burning bright as a flame in those molten eyes. Warmth spread through your chest, mixing with the heat pooling low in your stomach. Something inside you insisting on whispering that word you didn’t want to admit, didn’t want to place in this relationship, messy as it was.

Corbeau waited for you to nod before he hooked his thumbs inside your trousers and pulled them down, taking your underwear with them. You raised your hips to allow him to slip them off, kicking off the stubborn denim the best you could.

His hand came to rest on your knee, keeping your legs spread as he finished pulling the jeans off from you and planted a kiss to your inner thigh.

“You made me wait too long.” Corbeau sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head over your thigh. “Do you have any idea how bad it got for me? I was dreaming about you. Touching myself. Getting hard just thinking of you.”

He opened his eyes, golden gaze so sharp it nearly pinned you in place. “You, little troublemaker, have no idea what you do to me.”

You opened your mouth to answer.

He didn’t let you. 

Instead, his lips found your core like he’d been starving. You had to bite back on your lower lip not to scream, Corbeau ran his tongue over your folds like he wanted to savour every second of it, every last taste of you he could get.

He hummed in satisfaction, and the sound vibrating through you with a full body shudder that spoke louder than any sound you could make. That whispered to him, I missed you too. 

You threw your head back, resting it against the cold metal of wall and letting your jaw fall slack, surrendering to the feeling as he sucked your clit into his mouth, teasing a finger at your entrance.

Your walls fluttered around him so desperately it was almost pathetic, but Corbeau didn’t seem to think so. Much on the contrary.

“Fuck, yes. That’s my girl.” He curved his finger, familiarity guiding his every movement in just the way that had your thighs shaking and the pleasure coiling tighter. “Look how you want me so bad, it’s beautiful.”

“Shut up.” 

“If I didn’t want you just as much-” He paused, stilling his every movement and loving how you buckled your hips to chase the friction again. “I’d make you beg me for it.” 

You bit your lip, tilting your head down just a little to peer at him through a half lidded gaze. Corbeau seemed too distracted to notice, though. Adding another finger in just as his lips closed around your clit a second time.

You could not have looked away if you tried. 

Corbeau was a vision like this. On his knees, your slick glistening over his lips and chin, a blissful expression on his face like there was nothing he wanted more in this world than to have you at his mercy like this. 

His trousers looked so strained trying to hold back his erection, a dark little spot at the tip where his cock already leaked precum. You would have felt bad for him if not for how it turned you on to have this powerful, powerful man want you so much that he could barely keep it together just from eating you out.

Corbeau grunted, the sound low and vibrating through you like a jolt of electricity. He squeezed your thigh with his free hand before lowering it to palm himself through the fabric, the first touch ripping a moan out of him that sounded downright obscene. The kind of sound you’d only ever seen him make when he was so deep inside you it made you think that he was about to split you in half.

Maybe he truly had missed you, getting so pent up without you there to give him release for… how long was it since you’d let him get his hands on you the last time?

A week? Two?

A month?

Corbeau looked up to you with an almost dazed look in those pretty eyes, rubbing his hand against his clothed cock with almost feverish desperation. Maybe you should keep your distance more often just to see how beautiful he looked when he was needy. 

He hummed again, something much closer to a moan this time, and the pace of his fingers slowed for a moment. His mouth took more action, tongue circling your clit and sliding down over your folds with a sound you would have almost called a whimper if it were coming from anyone else.

He humped against his palm a few more times, sucking your clit a last time before his face fell slack in a beautifully blissful expression, brows knitting together and jaw hanging open. A sinful moan fell from his lips as he spilled inside his slacks. You’d almost have teased him about how quickly he finished if not for how hot it was.

You never thought you’d see a grown man come in his pants from the taste of you alone. It did a bit more for your ego than you’d like to admit.

Corbeau rested his forehead against your navel for a second longer, struggling to catch his breath for a moment before he went back to pumping his fingers in and out of you, faster this time. More purposeful. 

He was going to get what he wanted from you. He would see you fall apart. 

“Come on now, angel.” He coaxed, tone just a little strained. “Let me see how pretty you look when I unravel you.”

You closed your eyes, for Xerneas itself, he knew how to use those fingers. And he was dead set on making sure you’d see just how familiar he was with every inch of your body, how making the pleasure coil inside you was so natural to him he could draw it out on his tongue as long as he wanted or he could make you come on his fingers as soon as he was finished. 

Just his favourite little distraction that he couldn’t help but lust for, that he couldn’t help but want warming his bed. Or van. 

“You make the most beautiful faces when you don’t want to give me the satisfaction.” Corbeau tutted, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit. The ruthless pace he set matched the way his fingers moved in and out of you with no mercy, just the mechanical precision of someone who knew far too well how to make you come apart. “I don’t know why you still resist, but maybe you just like it too much when I put you in your place.”

“I’m not- I- Corbeau-” 

He sucked in a breath, “That’s it. Say my name like that again.” 

You gasped, the heat inside you growing until you couldn’t think of a single thing that wasn’t the way his fingers stretched and dragged inside you, the pleasure building until you thought it’d snap.

And then the bastard stopped. 

You cried out in protest, trying to rock your hips to meet his touch. But apparently Corbeau really had it in him to be cruel today.

He withdrew his fingers completely and sat back on his heels, just outside of your reach. 

“Say my name with a pretty please.” He sounded almost entertained as he commanded, gaze fixed on your expression like he didn’t want to miss a single twitch of it. “Or else I walk out and leave you here spread open, needy and frustrated.”

“You son of a bitch-” 

“Careful.” Corbeau warned, the corner of his lips tilting into an almost sadistic smile. “Let’s not forget who’s got you tied up on the back of his van.”

You pressed your lips together, trying so hard to summon some last remnant of your dignity for you to hold onto. But the only thing you found was need, burning, screaming need. 

“Do what I said.” Corbeau repeated. “Say my name and beg.” 

“I fucking hate you.” You spat, squirming in place as if that could grant you any reprieve. You closed your eyes, feeling the shame curl low in your stomach, mixing with arousal and heightening it in a way you didn’t quite want to face. “Please.”

“Good start, go on.”

You tried to glare at him, but the look in your eyes was a lot closer to desperation than it ever could be to anger. 

“Please. Corbeau.” You relented. “I need you. Please.”

The way your voice sounded so strained and breathy made his pupils dilate even further, lips parting just a little bit before he pressed them together and you could visibly see him swallow.

“You look irresistible when you beg. You should do it more often.” 

Corbeau leaned forward again and latched onto your clit at the same time he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, once again setting that brutal pace that he’d learned time and time again would have you screaming his name, arching your back off the silken sheets of his bed or his desk, wherever it was he’d decided to take you that time.

You wished you could pull his hair, or hold onto his shoulders. As much as you loved this game for a moment you wished you could just let yourself drop the premise and hold onto him like he meant something to you. 

Not that you’d admit that to him. Not yet, at least. 

You threw your head back, more so he wouldn’t see the expression in your face if he cracked his eyes open, you didn’t quite trust it to not show off that brief little desire for more and your pride was still too much to allow him to know he was in your mind just as often as you were in his.

Your orgasm hit you with a crashing wave, warmth spreading over your body like it threatened to consume you, coursing through your veins like poison burning you from the inside out. And you had just the mind to let it. 

Corbeau hummed in satisfaction as he felt your walls clench around his fingers, angling his touch just so to try and extend your orgasm as much as he could. 

“That’s my girl.” He whispered, withdrawing his fingers from inside you and popping them into his mouth. “God. It’s like you have me addicted.” 

You hummed a reply, still reeling from the pleasure. His hands came to rest on your thighs, a touch so gentle it almost felt jarring, almost made your chest hurt with how skillfully it played with your feelings. 

Corbeau leaned closer, his lips flush against your core as he ran his tongue from your entrance all the way up to your clit. Sucking it again, the overstimulation ripping a yelp out of you as it toed the line between pleasure and pain. Too much and not enough.

“You always taste so sweet.” He sighed, tracing a few lazy shapes with his thumb on your inner thigh. “How could you deny me this taste for so long, huh? I almost want to call you cruel.” 

Corbeau pressed another kiss against your core, cleaning you up on his tongue and moaning at the taste of your release. The sight of Corbeau on his knees like that was downright sinful, even more so knowing it was something reserved for your eyes only. 

He really was intoxicating wasn’t he? Too charming, too skilled at having you hanging on his every word, on his every action. No matter how far you drifted or how long you stayed away, there was nothing in this world that could make you truly forget him. 

Corbeau looked up to you through his lashes, the smuggest little smile on his face making your traitorous heart ache with yearning.