#hakari fever

One of the first things that came to mind when I saw Hakari's single-couch camera room today was kissing or making out on that couch. Can you write something like that? Like, the reader is mad at him and confronts him, then whatever.

"You know you're much hotter when you're angry, don't you?"

Hakari likes his women seething ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა 18+, minors dni cw: erection, making out sesh, Kinji shenanigans note: hi! i got this ask shortly after ep 5 came out and i love the idea of someone out there watching the Hakari scenes and immediately jumping on tumblr to satisfy their thirst. the girls are locked in. anyways, thank you for this request, it was fun :3 i hope it’s not too short, I felt so nervous writing this for some reason and couldn’t keep going.

For some reason, Kinji looks more stupid the angrier you get. Smug, satisfied, grinning and mildly aroused. Which only upsets you more.

You’re trying to be serious, explaining to him why you’re upset, what he’s done wrong, what he should’ve done instead, all while gesticulating wildly and pointing at the monitors.

“Oh yeah? Tell me more,” he drawls, leaning back against the couch, legs spreading, not even attempting to hide the tent between his thighs.

It’s just disrespectful. You have a legitimate concern, and he’s just… getting off on how your face reddens, how you’re a little out of breath, how passionately the words tumble out of your mouth.

“This is how it always goes. I predict something, you ignore me, and then it turns out I’m right. I mean, remember that shady guy from Akihabara?”

“Mhm, yeah, that was a mistake. Should’ve listened to you,” Kinji nods, but his monotone voice is a sign he isn’t even listening right now, just repeating words. Or maybe he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.

“You should have!”

Kinji sighs and tilts his head against his shoulder, lips pursing into a little frown. The light from the monitors behind you paints his skin a pale blue. He looks too good like that. Like a mysterious delinquent scheming and plotting, sprawled out on the cushions.

Swallowing back a string of curses at his audacity, you force yourself to focus on the issue at hand.

“I have a feeling. About that new guy. A bad feeling.”

A soft huff escapes Kinji’s lips, more amused than annoyed.

“Me too.”

Your eyes widen just a little.

“Well then, why don’t you—”

“Because,” he cuts you off, “one, I wanna see where it goes. And two…”

Two strong hands hook under your knees, pulling you forward abruptly and making you lose your balance. You fall into Kinji’s lap with a soft yelp, hands immediately coming up to his pecs. The smell of alcohol and cheap cologne hits you. Unfortunately, it’s like you’ve been Pavlov’d into associating that mix of scents with some kind of reward, because your legs part over Kinji’s thighs subconsciously.

“…you’re much hotter when you’re angry, doll. You know that?”

He’s playing with you, isn’t he? The modern term would be ragebaiting. Your thighs tense around his, your upper lip scrunching.

“Do not derail this conversation. That kid is up to something. What if he’s—”

This time, Kinji’s hands settle on your ass, heavy and deliberate as his fingers press into the plush of your cheeks. He massages them methodically, pushing them together, then spreading them apart again and again.

“I told you. Or are you not listenin’, mh? I wanna see it play out. How does the saying go? Keep your friends close and… your girl the closest?”

That is not how the saying goes. However, to emphasize his point, his hips buck upward, jolting you. The hardness between his legs rubs against you, an almost cruel kind of relief amid all the tension.

“Aren’t you just intense today,” he adds.

Kinji isn’t one of those men who love a fierce girl because they enjoy the process of taming her. He has no intention of putting out your fire. No, he wants to add oil to it, blow on it, burn at your stake.

His fingers curl into the collar of your blouse, tugging it down slightly. Without a bra, your cleavage spills free, goosebumps rising the moment the cool air hits your skin. Of course he hasn’t fixed the heating yet. No, he loves the way your nipples harden or how you’re forced to wear his fur coat in the cold. 

“Mh. Good girl.”

“Kin, I swear to God—” Another nasty roll of his hips cuts you off before you’re pulled into a kiss. It’s softer than he probably intended. His hands are on your butt again, what can he say, Kinji loves a nice piece of ass. “Come on, doll. Go on, take it out on me.”

He’s not saying it to be submissive or bratty or whatever, you know that. He literally smiles into the kiss as he speaks. 

You could be pegging that man and he’d still somehow be the one in control.

“It makes me so angry that you get off on this,” you hiss against him, gently biting his tongue when it lingers in your mouth too long. Your hands roam his upper body. It’s hard to find something to hold onto. Every muscle is a broad plane of flesh, flexed and strained, your fingers unable to splay wide enough. “And that you know I’m always right, and you still choose the risky way.”

“Such is the way of a gambler.”

Both your voices have dropped to low murmurs as you make out on the couch, wet little slaps of skin filling the room. Kinji’s words earn him a punishing bite to the jaw.

His hands travel up, to your hips, your waist, your torso, your chest.

“You worry too much, doll.”

You finally find purchase on his shoulders, though it comes at the cost of your nails digging sharply into muscle. He pays for those nails too, just because he loves the sting of them on his back.

“Besides,” he continues with a raspy gasp, “I’ll have a talk with him soon.”

“How soon?”

“Mh. I’m guessing we have time for one round of making my baby feel good.” A grin. “And you know I’m good at guessing.”