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asogisbrushwork · 3 years ago

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Beyond the Screen

Kazuma Asougi × Reader

SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT ACE ATTORNEY CHRONICLES ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.5k

WARNINGS: public indecency, power imbalance if you squint, themes of dissociation, marathon sex, oral (male and female receiving), biting, hair-pulling, cream pie, totally 100% platonic displays of affection

Summary: When {Fn} snagged herself a front row seat to one of Kar(u)ma’s concerts, she was certain that she wouldn’t have the chance to stand so close to the world-famous singer and activist ever again.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Masterlist

Key: {Fn} – reader’s first name, {Ln} – reader’s last name

Nearly forty minutes had passed since the opening act’s conclusion. {Fn} was growing more and more fidgety by the second.

A month or so back, she’d made use of her official fan club membership by getting early access to tickets for that fateful night. To her immeasurable glee, she’d ended up with a floor seat by the far edge of the extended stage. Though her friends and family insisted there were more important things for her to spend her money on than a shiny VIP membership card and time-limited experiences like concerts, she regretted nothing. Now all she had to worry about was making it through this two-and-a-half-hour show without fainting from overexcitement.

The moment the lights finally dimmed, she swore she felt her heart skip a beat.

The O2 swelled with the rippling bass of the opening number and the roaring audience of twenty thousand. Her hands trembled with adrenaline as she retrieved her phone and fumbled to get the camera rolling.

Two spotlights came down, not onto the actual built-in stage, but rather the end of the platform where she was seated, when he rose up from beneath it.

The stupidly large ‘smart’ device nearly slipped out of her grasp when he appeared. He was right there. Him. Right in front of her, just with four or five yards between them at most. If he was unspeakably gorgeous in pictures and videos, he was easily ten times more so in the flesh. She watched his vinyl-clad figure through her screen as he growled and belted his heart out about the, as quoted from the title of the song, ‘Human Waste’ that was the one percent responsible for the current decay of the earth. Indeed, climate change was the topic he’d chosen to raise his voice on for this: ‘Apocalypse,’ his latest album. Now his world tour was on its final leg, concluding with three nights of spectacular shows in his home, the city of London. Tonight was night one of these three.

His power to rally his listeners together and to call them to action through his music was truly one of a kind. No fanbase of any other artist’s in the world was as driven and outspoken and dedicated to changing society for the better as that of Kazuma Asougi, better known in the entertainment industry as ‘Kar(u)ma.’ Really, who wouldn’t have been proud to call oneself his fan? Sure, there were the critics, many of them ignorant and stuck-up conservatives, who liked to throw around accusations time and time again regarding his alleged use of ‘fan service’ to get what he wanted, but of course they of all people would dish out takes like these, considering the fact that what he wanted typically couldn’t have been less in line with what they wanted. Those privileged old misogynists were only bitter to see a young person of colour winning.

About an hour and a half into the show, and it had progressed into one of the album’s more optimistic and motivational tracks. It was during the section of said track in which there were no vocals, giving him a moment to tear up the catwalk in time with the blaring, hype-inspiring EDM backing track, when the unthinkable happened.

In the midst of all that fervour, a blizzard of streamers and confetti raining down on them all from the rafters, his focus had fixed itself directly on her.

At first she didn’t even notice. He had to be looking at someone beside her or maybe in the next row back. This couldn’t be happening. It was just her imagination, right? No way could he have been looking her straight in the eye for four, five, six, seven…

Her poor, pounding heart couldn’t handle it. She took refuge behind her screen.

It was only at that point that he began making his way toward them. Time seemed to come to a standstill. She cast furtive glances to the fans on either side of her, having to strain every part of her body to keep herself from screaming like a banshee and making a complete maniac of herself (even though she’d been doing exactly that since the moment he’d first appeared). Was he ever going to start singing again? How long had it even been since he’d stopped?

Her thoughts were still racing and her emotions still in pandemonium when he halted at the edge of the stage, his ankles just an arm’s length away from her camera lens.

Then he crouched down, reached out, and turned her phone off for her with a click.

Encouraging her to lower her hands with his own, he held her in his eyes, embellished as they were with sharp, scarlet wings and bright, amber-coloured contact lenses.

With that, he stood up and turned on his heel to carry on with the performance, but not before subtly sticking his tongue out at her with a smirk between two erect fingers.

The crowd went mad; the screams were so deafening, she could hardly hear the stiff, high-pitched sigh she let out along with the breath she’d been withholding. Her fidgeting started up again, and that’s when she noticed—a square of red confetti, about the size of a ring box, was wedged between her phone case and her fingertips.

It was a bit difficult to make out under the multicoloured strobe lights, but there was writing on it. She held it up to the light, and it read,

“Exit from section A, take a right U-turn, and look for the door marked ‘STAFF ONLY’

“I’ll be seeing you.”

She was still weak in the knees, in truth more than ever, an hour later when the throngs had started trickling out through the stadium’s main entrance. One thing was certain: the door she’d found with the help of these mysterious directions didn’t look like that to a janitor’s closet. All she could do now was stand there as inconspicuously as possible and listen to the crowd going by just around the corner, praying that no one from the help desk dead ahead of her at the far end of the corridor would come out to ask if she needed something. What she needed was confirmation, and she hoped more than anything that it would come from the one who’d supposedly led her here in the first place.

“You alright there, love?”

This time she did drop her phone. It smacked flat on its face against the concrete, making her jump a second time in a row.

“Oh, God, I’m s—” She bent down at the waist to pick it up before turning toward him, and his eyes damn near popped right out of their sockets. “Sorry…” he finished, supporting himself on the doorframe.

Her eyes were easily twice as wide as his when she eventually turned around. “Are you—” She spluttered, vocal chords struggling after all the chaos and excitement of the concert. “Sorry.” She took a breath. She was really about to say this, wasn’t she? “A-Are you…Kazuma Asougi?”

“That is my name, yes,” he chuckled. “Perfect pronunciation, even. Guess I’ve just gotten used to hearing the press say it as ‘Ka-zoo-ma’ on their first go.”

“Yeah…” she forced out. Just be casual, {Fn}. He’s just a regular person, same as you, same as everyone else.

“You’re nothing like them, though, are you?” He crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. His brow shone with traces of perspiration, his irises had lost their artificial glow, and he appeared to be missing the jacket he’d been wearing throughout the evening, leaving his broad, inked-up shoulders exposed in the apparently sleeveless top he had on. And it was probably just her eyes playing tricks on her, but was he checking her out? She was no less guilty, to be fair. At the moment, she was finding it hard to look away from the tight-fitting trousers clinging to his thighs as he stood there, in fact.

Meanwhile he was eyeing the black tee she was wearing and had purchased earlier at one of the official merchandise stands outside (skipping past the bulk of that monstrous line with the help of her trusty fan club card) when he said, “I take it you’re a rather dedicated supporter of mine?”

“Yes!”

His laughter redoubled, making her face glow hotter than global warming itself. “Well then, are you just gonna stand there and gawk or are you gonna come backstage with me?”

“Cuh—! Come backs-sta…w-wih…” Her face couldn’t even decide what kind of expression to hold. “I… I-I-I-III…!”

“I don’t have all night, you know,” he added. That was a lie.

“Oh. Y-Yes. Of course.” Good grief, could she have made herself look more neurotic if she tried? “That…sounds incredible. In a good way! Obviously, I mean, how could I have meant that in…” Yep. She could. She cleared her throat and took another breath. “Yes. Sorry. Please take me backstage with you, M…Mr. A-Asougi.”

“Only if you promise to try not to apologise so much.” He was smiling at least as he turned around and motioned for her to follow. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it? “And, uh…” He halted. “Well, you’re a fan, aren’t you? Just call me Kazuma.”

A far cry from what she would have expected from him (though that would have implied that she’d gone into this with any sort of expectations at all to speak of), once they were alone in his dressing room, he lured her in with open arms and a strikingly warm and sincere gaze. She didn’t dare admit aloud how many times she may or may not have acted out scenarios just like this in her mind from the privacy of her bedroom, though his knowing eyes and gently upturned lips told her there was no need to.

Blocking out the overwhelming intimacy in his facade, she closed the distance and let her weakening knees hit the floor.

Trembling fingertips working frantically to undo his fly, she soon felt the brush of his palm at the back of her head. “Hmh.” That sly but solicitous cheek that was so typical of him now festered in the corners of his grin. Seeing it brought her an odd sense of security; now this was the Kar(u)ma she knew. “Looks like someone’s quite eager to please, isn’t sh—o-oh…!”

His smile crumpled. She’d begun taking him in and out of her throat at a breakneck pace right out of the gate.

His free arm floundered before locating a chair to lean on. “Ouhh, okay—easy! Easy…”

She backed off that instant, his own rigid fingers quickly persuading her off of him by her roots. She looked up at him in horror, only to lower her head again, dizzy with the heat of humiliation and from how short of breath she suddenly seemed to be.

But no sooner than she’d pulled her hand away from his base was he catching it by the wrist, guiding it back to where she’d so hastily taken hold of him in the first place. His fingers curled hers around him again, then tipped her chin up. “I know you’re excited,” he laughed, “but just take it slow to start with, alright? I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

She nodded, lacking trust in herself to speak clearly or intelligently at the moment, before leaning in to circle just his head with her lips.

It was only around then that she fully realised what she was doing. After the failure of her initial ‘don’t look down’ approach, there was nothing left to prevent her from becoming immensely aware of how he throbbed into her sensitive palate, hard as diamond.

His eyes on her like a hawk’s, he gripped her gently but firmly by the scruff of her neck, guiding her up and down his substantially sized cock at his own steady, shallow pace. She surrendered to his guidance for some time, bobbing her head along to his every push and pull. “There’s a good girl,” he murmured. Her stomach tightened. “Just take as much as I’m giving you, just like that.” His tone was low, composed, and billowing with affection. It made her shiver, tickling her in all the right ways, like the way he’d sung ‘Mind Fog’ at the time of its release.

If his voice was so enchanting to listen to at this level, surely it could only be that much more rapturous at a level befitting a song like ‘The Mutt in the Rut,’ for example. But clearly, if she was going to get to hear anything close to that amount of growling and howling and letting loose by the end of tonight, this wouldn’t cut it.

Staying true to his set tempo for now, she cast what she hoped was a discreet glance up in his direction. His eyes were half closed, and he’d gone all but completely silent save for a deep, shaky, nasal exhale every now and then. He’d relaxed his hold on her, too; it was her doing most of the work herself at this point.

Keeping her attention on him, she started dipping her head deeper.

“Mmh—” He sucked in a breath, brow furrowing, but made no real effort to interfere. So she kept going, taking him in one centimetre further with each slow, consecutive movement of her head. So far it was working. More groans rumbled up from his chest the longer she went, and each of his breaths was louder and harder and more of a slap to the face than the last. But it still wasn’t enough.

The second she started picking up the pace, he jerked her head back.

“You know,” he hissed, towering and sending a sharp chill up her spine, “I’ve been holding back for your sake, but now you’re really asking for it. For me to show you just how rough I can get when I feel like it.”

“Yes. Please…” He raised a doubtful eyebrow. Her hands strayed to either of his hips. “I can take it. Really. Please, Kar—”

“Kazuma.”

His correction, so terse, had her heart rolling like thunder. “K-Kazuma… Just… Just use me already.”

He didn’t waste any time in making good on his word. With a firm grasp on her nape, he’d taken over completely, leaving her with nothing to do but let him shove his entire length in and out of her mouth again and again and again. “It feels…like you’ve been training yourself to take cock like this for m—ohh, fuck, yes, take it. Take it…” The hardly humane sounds of pleasure he was making now were more than worth it, but the more he let himself go, the more she was starting to lose control of her gag reflex. He caught her tears with his thumbs as soon as they began to fall. “Baby, you’re doing so well,” he praised between huffs, making her melt in his palms. “God, your throat is—hahh—!”

He pulled her head back again without warning, now more urgently than ever. He’d only been face-fucking her for maybe two minutes at most.

“I think…” he panted once the knot had fully loosened, “that’s enough of you trying to impress me. Now it’s my turn.”

Before she could get so much as a word in, she was being hauled up to her feet, then spun around and bent over the vanity, all in the blink of an eye.

“Look at you…” His fingertips brushed her chin. She met his eyes through the mirror’s reflection, then followed their trajectory to where her neckline was drooping to create a window that now perfectly displayed her cleavage. He’d made it seem as though he’d intended to say more, but he didn’t. The only sounds to depart his parched mouth as he drank her in from behind were those of his sharp, weighted exhales.

What on earth had gotten into him? This never happened. He snapped himself out of this trance that she—this lovely concertgoer who deserved the world just as much as all the others—had put him under. Lifting the edge of her skirt, he pulled her panties to the side with one hand and used the other to line himself up with his mark.

A split second before his bare tip made contact with her irresistibly soaked slit, his senses returned, and he screeched to a halt. “Are you on—”

“Yes, yes,” she huffed.

Her answer had him cocking his head. “Well now. Something of a slut yourself then, eh?” Her knitted brows shot up. She cupped her mouth, shivering. This wordless admission, and the way she’d so impatiently cut off his first question… Pacing himself, he leaned over her again and brought his broadening smirk up into the slope of her neck. “I like it.”

Then both pelvises collided with a snap.

Her lungs strained under the weight of her gasp. He gave a low groan, closing his eyes against the euphoric feeling of warmth and wetness that he’d been craving. His arms on either side of her had her body pinned to the vanity while his hips began beating her down against it—or so it was, until he resorted to grabbing her by the waist and using the extra leverage to drive himself deeper and deeper inside with each and every thrust. More. He needed more. More of her squirming, more of her moans—anything. Everything.

Her hands were splayed out in a desperate effort to find some sort of anchor, but all there was in front of her was the mirror’s flat and unforgiving surface. By now, her eyes were starting to roll back, of which he no doubt had the perfect view. Even now, all she could think was that this was too good to be real.

His hips rolled sideways. “K-hh—!”

“Just say it.” He whispered his permission through clenched teeth straight into the trough of her ear. “Say my name.”

“K…azuma!”

And that was all it took. The way his name seemed to crumble and melt in her mouth had him completely unraveling the instant she’d uttered it.

He stilled in her depths, spitting out curse after curse in spite of himself. Her eyes squeezed shut as he involuntarily poured himself into her, pulse by pulse. She whimpered. It was so hot, it felt like her body was on the brink of being turned to liquid from the inside. If only he would start moving again.

“Fuck…” He shook his head. Somehow it had managed to sneak up on him this time: another thing that rarely if ever occurred in his experience. What was he even doing? He would have spent way longer on teasing and foreplay with anyone else, but she’d had him inside her no sooner than he’d gotten a good enough look at her. “Fucking hell. I’m sorry.” He loosened his grip on her hips, nails leaving behind little crescent-shaped depressions in her skin.

“It’s…alright…” she swooned, still in somewhat of a daze after what had just happened.

“Just…” He heaved a sigh. “been a while since my last show, I guess.”

“Wait. You, you mean…”

“Ah.” He blushed and averted his gaze. “I mean…yeah. Pretty much.” It wasn’t out of shame that he would normally have kept his mouth shut about the true extent of his promiscuity, but that didn’t matter now. She was already starting to look crestfallen.

“Oh…” It made sense now: the ‘stray’ piece of confetti, and how he obviously would’ve needed to prepared it before the show started. Maybe she wasn’t quite as special as she’d thought this made her out to be after all.

But she was.

In one smooth motion, he slipped out and repositioned her panties without letting a single drip escape. “Let me make it up to you. Please.” He took her by the hand and twirled her around yet again, making her stumble straight into the safe haven of his strong arms. “I can’t have you going home unsatisfied.”

“But I am satisfied,” she tried, if only with the intent of sparing his pride. “And, didn’t you mention earlier that you were…er…busy tonight, anyway?”

He simply grinned at the irony, and she smiled back. But as she bent down to gather up her bag full of streamers and confetti, he said, “Oh. Uhh, one more thing.” He swiped his jacket off the back of the chair he’d left it on, then reached under her arms to tie it around her waist. “Might be a good idea for you to keep that, there. For a while.”

“Wait, why?”

He held her in place, taking away her chance to see the rip down the back seam of her skirt, which she’d seemed to be blissfully unaware of since the moment she’d first met up with him fifteen-ish minutes ago. “You know what? Just keep it. I want you to have it.”

“You’re giving me your custom-made jacke—”

“Come on, then.”

#kazuma asogi #kazuma asougi #kazuma asogi x reader #kazuma asougi x reader #female!reader #reader with she/her pronouns #Spicy #modern au #musician au #reader: *is starstruck*#kazuma: oh yeah i like her let's - oh wait no this isn't going as normal wait hold up #i am getting out my tub of popcorn to feast on as i see where this goes 👀🍿

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