#tetsuya naito fanfiction

[fanfics4thewin]

Lucky Girl

A short one-shot I had in my head for a while. I might develop it into a longer ongoing story in the future :) I’m also terrible at coming up with names for my stories! Hope you enjoy ^^  

It was 2am and you had just arrived home. You were in Osaka the last few days visiting family. You were hoping to be home much earlier and away from your family faster, however your family always found a way to keep you with them. This resulted in you missing your train home and having to get a later one. You weren’t at all pleased. You took off your shoes, dropped your bags, locked the door and headed straight to the bedroom. You opened the door slowly as not to wake anyone. You slipped inside easily and shut the door behind you. The bedside lamp was left on and illuminated the two figures in the bed. Your heart melted at the sight of Naito lying in the middle of the bed with Hiromu lying on his chest with Daryl under his arm. You can’t believe you got so lucky to have these two wonderful men in your life. You never in your wildest dreams thought you would end up with two boyfriends. You had been with Naito for about 5 years now. Everyone knew you two were together, what people didn’t know was that you were also dating Hiromu bar the rest of LIJ. You felt bad about keeping the fact Hiromu was your boyfriend too a secret. Hiromu was okay with it as it isn’t something that is really accepted. You always tried your best to show little  signs of affection to Hiromu when you were in public. You were always afraid he would feel left out in the relationship. It has all been 9 months since he joined the relationship. He along with Naito always reassured you that Hiromu felt included and was very happy in this relationship. He actually enjoys being yourself and Naito’s little secret. You were very surprised when Naito suggested you both start dating Hiromu. Naito was always very protective of you and didn’t like to share you. He hated other men looking at you so him suggesting you date another man shocked you.

“I know you’re attracted to him. I see the way you look at him.” Naito said.

“I don’t look……” You started.

“Y/N, it’s okay I know you wouldn’t act on your feelings and cheat on me. People still find other people attractive when they are in relationships. It’s normal. Truth be told I find Hiro very attractive too. I just thought he would be a nice addition to our family! I already talked to him about it and he’s excited.”

That’s how your relationship started. It was a bit weird at the start. Hiromu wasn’t in LIJ that long so you didn’t know him as well as the others. It took a bit of getting use to for yourself and Naito especially seeing the other kiss and cuddle Hiromu. Even though you were all dating each other there was still a feeling of jealously. However that all faded fairly quickly once you found a good flow. Plus the sex was amazing. You and Naito always had a great sex life but Hiromu added so much more into the mix. You were brought out of your thoughts by a sleepy voice calling your name.

“Y/N? When did you get home?” Naito asked and began to sit up in the bed. This action caused Hiromu to also wake.

“You’re home!” Hiromu exclaimed half sleep. “I missed you a lot.”

“Sorry sweeties, I didn’t mean to wake you two.” You said. ‘I missed you guys a lot too. It’s so nice to be home. I’ll tell you guys about my trip in the morning. Right now all I want to do is fall asleep cuddling my two favourite men.”

“What about Daryl?!”

“Sorry Hiro, I mean my three favourite men.” You giggled.

You quickly changed into your pj’s and climbed into bed. Hiromu moved away from Naito to allow space for you as you always slept in the middle. You gave both men a kiss before lying on Naito’s chest with Hiromu wrapping his arms around your waist and falling asleep. You couldn’t think of a better way to drift off to sleep.

[littlebluespoon]

MASTERLIST!

Wrestling Fics

Marty Scurll - Moving On

Minoru Suzuki - Surprised

Minoru Suzuki and Midnight Walks (would include)

Minoru Suzuki and Pregnancy (would include)

Bushi and Spa Days (would include)

Tama Tonga - Sleepover

Tetsuya Naito - “Don’t Cry”

Hiromu Takahashi - “Stop Interrupting Me”

Minoru Suzuki - “Do you think I’m scared of a woman?”

Hiromu Takahashi - “Stop being such a baby”

South Pacific Power Trip and Valet (would include)

Nick Jackson - “It’s not what it looks like”

EVIL - “Who hurt you?”

Minoru Suzuki and Dating (would include)

Taichi - “I Could So Kill You right Now!”

Hiromu Takahashi - “Why are you naked?”

Tetsuya Naito - “Are you going to talk to me?”

Matt Jackson - “I’m Tired of Being Your Secret”

Chuck Taylor and Dating (would include)

Minoru Suzuki - Whine (smut)

Matt Jackson - More than One Surprise?

Kota Ibushi - Drabble

Adam Page - Drabble

Jay Briscoe - Drabble

Zack Sabre Jr - Drabble

The Adventures of Hiromu Takahashi and The Cats - Part 1

Kazuchika Okada and You Having a Bad Day (would include)

Kazuchika Okada - Unlovable

Adam Page - Unburdened

Sanada and Evil - Drabbles

Evil - Drabble

Hiromu Takahashi - Hope

Minoru Suzuki and Tetsuya Naito - Pain

Jimmy Havoc - Broken Glass

Marty Scurll - Running

Tetsuya Naito - Tailspin

Kenny Omega - A Little Slice of Hell

Jimmy Havoc - Blood Thirst  Interlude

Kazuchika Okada - In The Wrong

El Desperado (Kyosuke Mikami) and Minoru Suzuki - Busy Night

Nick Jackson - You Won

Minoru Suzuki (With Zack Sabre jr and El Desperado) - Home Safe

Home Safe Alternate Ending

Bushi and El Desperado - Masked Mischief 

Naughty Hearts Are Fickle 

Chuck Taylor - Naughty

Trent Baretta - Affairs of The Heart (sequel to Naughty)

Chuck Taylor - Painful Heart (sequel to Affairs of The Heart)

Chuck Taylor - Revenge Sometimes Hurts (sequel to Painful Heart)

[kikisobsessions]

Does anyone have links to NJPW fanfiction? Specifically ones about Los Ingobernables de Japon. Would really appreciate it :D

[takerfoxx]

Some stuff from 2020 that I actually liked

Okay, so 2020 was a godawful year, we all agree. But a lot of good did happen to keep us sane, so I want to go ahead and list everything that made me happy last year. Also, note that some of these things actually debuted earlier than 2020, but I came across it in 2020, so it counts for me.

TV!

-The Hollow.

The Hollow is a truly underappreciated show. A cool premise and interesting characters that just got better every episode.

The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance.

This is one of the best single-season shows I’ve ever seen. Absolutely brilliant, and fuck you Netflix for pulling the plug!

Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!

This show is not my thing by any means, and I would never have checked it out if the opening wasn’t so attention-grabbing. Glad I did, because it gave me genuine joy. Though it probably should have debuted later in the year, since it seems custom-made for the quarantine months. 

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power: Season 5

What more can I say? One of my favorite shows of all time going out with a fantastic bang. God, I love this show.

Honorable mentions: Kipo and the Age of the Wunderbeasts, The Owl House, Magia Record, and SSSS Gridman.

MOVIES

There wasn’t a lot of movies worth talking about this year, and fewer that I actually saw. This one had the good fortune to drop just in time to dominate the box office right before quarintine shut everything down. And for a film with such an uninspired premise, such a problematic production, and being a video game movie no less, it just brought me so much joy.

VIDEO GAMES

Stinkoman 20x6: Level 10

Homestar Runner was my first favorite thing on the internet, and I spent many hours playing through Stinkoman 20x6 well over a decade ago. So when they finally announced the final level mere days before flash died forever, it was a big of closure I never thought I would get.

A Hat in Time

This game was a surreal delight. More like this, please!

Hollow Knight

On the other end of the spectrum, good lord was exploring the world of Hollownest a joy. Can’t wait for Silksong!

Honorable mention: Orri and the Blind Forest

PRO WRESTLING

Tetsuya Naito achieves his Destino

I’ve already got into detail why this moment was so special, so I won’t repeat myself here. But man, was it incredible.

Kota Ibushi, back-to-back G1 winner!

If it were anyone else, I would be annoyed. But it’s Kota.

I started watching Lucha Underground!

This show is years old, but I only started watching it this year, and I’m glad that I did, because it is so much fun. It’s basically Mortal Kombat as a wrestling show!

Honorable mentions: the Firefly Funhouse match, Roman Reigns turning heel, Kenny Omega and Jon Moxley’s AEW championship wins

LITERATURE

Two Dresden Books

The Dresden Files is my favorite book series, and after waiting so long for it to return, getting two books in the same year was a real treat

Dance in the Vampire Bund

This is probably my guiltiest of guilty pleasures, because unlike other guilty pleasures like To Love-Ru or the Hollywood Undead in which their unashamed schlockiness is part of the charm DitVB is largely a fantastic vampire story with a richly drawn world, great characters, a compelling plot, and some truly great action. It just has that one really gross aspect that overshadows everything else, and unfortunately is promoted as its main selling point. That being said, I was happy to see it return.

PERSONAL WRITING

Returning to fanfiction

Ah, IM and RD, how I’ve missed thee. Sure, my heyday may be over, but it’s still wonderful to return to old stories

Finishing both Walpurgis Nights and Restless

These two were both passion projects that have been taking up space in my head for years, so finishing both was a dream come true, no pun intended

Getting Blood Island going

I have no idea how my future in original fiction will go, but I hope it’s good.

MUSIC

DemonDice

Yes, we all know who she is now, but finding Calliope’s older stuff kind of makes me mad about how unappreciated she was. 

Mystery Skulls - Ultra Rare vol. 2

I remember asking Mystery Skulls right after vol 1 dropped if a vol 2 was in the worlds, and he said definitely. It took a while, but it’s finally here.

Skyhill returns

God, Howling at the Moon came when I needed it the most.

K/DA All Out

I found out that this was coming out literally days before it dropped, and it ROCKED!

Ken Ashcorp

Why yes, I would like more incredibly catchy, shamelessly horny songs about nerdy stuff that I like, thank you very much.

Honorable Mentions: Hybrid Theory deluxe edition, In This Moment, Gorillaz Song Machine

Misc.

hololive

This is the era of the Vtuber. I still don’t fully understand why these cute but psycho anime girls bring me so much joy, but I’m glad that they do. 

And finally...

Donald Trump gets voted out of office.

Fuck you, you narcissistic, fascist piece of shit. You losing didn’t make up for such an awful year or for the four years in which you ran this country into the ground, but it was a good start!

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Could you possibly write Tetsuya Naito x Bushi nsfw fanfiction

I can’t promise exactly when I’ll have it done but sure, I’ll give it a shot!

[nahmooste]

i’m writing the next part to my naito / reader fic and i,,,, i’m tempted to throw a curve ball and make it a naito / reader / okada fic? do i do it? or do i just leave it as a naito fic?????? like???? help, someone

[nahmooste]

Stripped

prompt; #17: “You don’t even know my name” Animal, Missio

requested by: @ghostofviper pairing: Tetsuya Naito / Female OC warnings: drinking, smut, dubcon a/n: this is long… sorry? also… idek what i wanted to do w Naito’s character but w/e, turned out i guess? tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @ghostofviper @onewingedgloria @littleblueghostspoon @narwhalneglect @princesstoniii @keltic-goddess

The only thing that Keira is sure about right now is that she’s hungover. Her stomach turns violently and threatens to throw the contents of last nights adventures over the floor beneath her, and her head is absolutely pounding with an ache that can only be solved with more sleep.

The bed she’s laying in has satin sheets, and there’s a warmth radiating from the other side belonging to a man who she’s not sure whether she’s slept with or not. He looks familiar, kind of, and Keira stares at him blearily as she tries to put a name to the face. She’s no luck, but those are definitely her panties halfway across the room and a blush raises to her cheeks as she realises that under the shirt she’s wearing, she’s butt naked.

Slowly, and quietly enough so that she doesn’t disturb the man next to her, Keira stands from the bed and pads around to the delicates before stepping into the ensuite.

What meets her gaze in the mirror might have been funny if she had any clue of what happened the night before. There are bruises on her arms and her neck, hickeys on her chest as she pulls the top up. Fingerprint bruises pattered against her thighs. Her wrists are tender, almost like she’s been tied up… and suddenly Keira’s heart drops to her stomach.

What happened?

Just as she’s finished smoothing down the mess of her hair and cleaning away the remains of old makeup, the man in the bed stirs. And the shock she gets when he lowers his arm from where it’s been resting on his head doesn’t prepare her for the sudden need to throw up absolutely everywhere.

Keira barely makes the toilet bowl.

The mane of orange hair that had been hiding under his arm had been in sight long enough for Keira to put a name to the man she obviously slept with last night— the same man who she’d sworn to never sleep with, and the very same man that her uncle absolutely hates.

God, fuck, Gedo is going to skin her alive.

Keira moans pathetically as she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth, but then there’s another hand slowly pressing the flush button, and the hairs on the back of Keira’s neck stand on end as Tetsuya Naito gently pulls her mane away from the bowl.

“Don’t touch me,” Keira barely manages to say before she’s throwing up all over again.

She assumes that Naito is trying to comfort her— his hand is massaging small circles between her shoulder blades and he flushes the toilet again, but his proximity is only doing one thing to Keira right now, and it’s definitely not calming her.

Naito doesn’t move away from her. “How much of last night do you remember?” he asks instead, and squats down as Keira pushes herself back onto her ass. She glares at him, tries to show that she’s angry and upset with the fact that she’s even here, but Naito stares back at her with pity on his face. “Things got… a little out of hand.”

“A little?”

He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and chews on it, eyes darting from one bruise to the next as if a little was the overstatement of the year. “What do you remember?”

When Keira thinks back, things are blurry at best. She remembers Gedo introducing her to Kazuchika Okada and the rest of Chaos, telling her to stay away from LIJ at all costs, and then giving her a gentle nudge to mingle with others. She stumbled into others, alright, and one drink became two became three and so forth, and then Gedo announced that they’d finish up the night and head out. The women Keira had found pulled her along to another club. LIJ was there. She remembers yelling at Tetsuya “you don’t even know my name!” and how he rolled his eyes and walked away. The rest of the night is a mess of blurred memories and events she can’t quite place together.

Naito listens to this and the nods his head, stares at her in a way she doesn’t quite understand. “You don’t remember getting into a fight?” At her silence, Naito raises an eyebrow, lowers the tone of his voice. “You don’t remember slapping me every time I made you come?”

Her cheeks burn. “How much did I drink?”

“Too much, obviously. I don’t think I’d have got you to my bed if you weren’t at least somewhat drunk.”

“So you waited until I was drunk?”

He holds his arms up in defence. “You came to me. I told you that you’d regret it in the morning and you said you didn’t care.”

Keira’s stomach rolls again, but not violently enough for her to throw up. Instead, she pulls herself to her feet, tries to fight off Naito’s helpful hands like she still has any dignity left. “I need to go.”

He doesn’t argue with her. In fact, for the next two weeks, he doesn’t even try to contact her. Keira lets it roll of her shoulders because fuck she doesn’t want to talk to him either, but part of her… there’s a part of her that needs to know what happened that night.

And so she goes back to him.

“Keira…” he says, smirking a little at the face she makes when her name rolls off his tongue. “Didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

“Show me.”

His eyebrow raises at her demand. “Sorry?”

“Show me what you did. Show me what we did.”

Naito stares at her like she’s offering candy to a baby, tries to maintain some kind of gentlemanly presence even when he’s everything but. “Even I can’t remember it all…”

“I don’t care! It’s driving me fucking insane, I just— maybe if you show me… it’ll come back.”

When Naito stands back to let her into the apartment, Keira has no hesitations. But even fucking him doesn’t bring it back. Even slapping him after she comes doesn’t ignite any memories. She sits upright on his bed afterwards and stares at her hands, at her arms. There aren’t any bruises.

“You bruised me last time,” Keira murmurs lowly.

Naito trails his hand down her spine, presses his mouth to her back. “We were very, very drunk.”

“So let’s drink.”

“Why is this bothering you so much?”

“Because I’d never… never drink so much that I can’t remember anything. I woke up and I didn’t know where I was or who you were or what happened to me and I can’t sleep because of it. I need to know.”

Naito nods at her slowly. Then, he finds two bottles of Cognac, two glasses, and pours her a shot.

“I’m not going to tell a beautiful woman to get out of my bed.”

—

Keira would be lying if she said all the memories came back to her.

She’s drunk enough now that she starts to let herself go, loses all restraints that usually hold her back. She doesn’t find alcohol anything except a calming fire that gives her more courage than she needs.

What she finds is that when she kisses him slow, lets her tongue press against his in a way she knows she’ll remember, she finds the first memory. How she’d slapped him when he kisses her, how she’d stared at him when he laughed, and how she kissed him back when he went for it a second time. Keira lets herself fall back onto the bed. Wild brown hair flies out around her head, and she can’t find the strength to lift it as Tetsuya pushes his face between her legs.

His fingers press into the skin of her thighs, hard enough to bruise, and she can feel the familiarity of it— the way he grips her to stop her squirming, the way he bites her inner thigh as punishment. She doesn’t come from his mouth; he’s got other things in mind. Sucks a bruise into the valley between her breasts, hands caressing the soft skin.

The alcohol mixed with her own fluids sits on Naito’s tongue as he kisses her again. The muscles under his skin shifts as he moves against her, grinds into her, and Keira grasps his shoulders, his back, anything she can get her hands on.

“Do you remember?” he whispers into her ear, all breath and seduction and everything Keira knows she shouldn’t want even though she does.

“I remember…”

He’s soft with her, at first. Lets her settle around his length after he’s pushed it into her, lets her dictate the movements until she relaxes on the bed and stares up at him with glassy eyes. “Choke me.”

Naito wraps his fingers around her throat. He hitches a leg over his shoulder for better angle and squeezes until she can’t breathe properly, but his hair starts to stick to his skin, thick orange mane soft even underneath fingers that pull it. Tetsuya bites his bottom lip and then his jaw goes slack, and he starts to blur under Keira’s gaze. She comes being unable to breathe, and then comes again when her neck is freed of his grip, and then Naito swears and buries his head into the dip of her collarbone, finishes with a grunt and a moan. His thighs shake for a moment.

Keira remembers enough now to know that she wanted all of it.

“Keira…”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Tetsuya. Just…”

He falls into the space next to her, blissful and tired. “Don’t be here when I wake up.”

[nahmooste]

Why We Lose, pt. 6

pairing: Tetsuya Naito / Female OC warnings: none :)  a/n: nice closure chapter with ~~sexual tension~~ and an open ending so i can come back to it if i want... i know i said probably no post BUT i didn’t realise i’d be able to finish it tonight. anyway, enjoy! tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @ghostofviper @onewingedgloria @littleblueghostspoon @narwhalneglect @princesstoniii @keltic-goddess

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, masterlist

The red dress Hena wears to the New Japan show hugs every curve to her lithe body, makes her look good, like she wants everyone to watch her and not the wrestling show they’ve paid to see.

While the Los Ingobernables boys don’t necessarily acknowledge her, EVIL and Sanada stand near the guard railing she sits behind as a form of solidarity. She knows that while Bushi hasn’t forgiven her, Naito has talked to his stablemates and told them to ignore her actions for the past two weeks; Hiromu, now that he’s fucked her, is back to his usual quirky self. Bushi still breezes her off.

There’s a black LIJ cap on her head, and brown hair spills out in gentle waves across the deep neckline of her dress. The men in the ring, every single one of them, has stared at her with those eyes before realising who she is. The rock on her finger is proof enough of it.

It doesn’t surprise her, then, that during his match against her husband and Hiromu, Kazuchika Okada’s eyes are drawn to her over and over again. She’s in red. She’s at a wrestling event. Even Gedo is confused, and she can tell by the way his mouth gapes when he finds her in the crowd. Okada, who is almost untouchable between the ropes— he’s too busy showing off that he becomes reckless. He fumbles his holds, swears loudly, hisses at his British partner when they’re in the same vicinity. The only thing that Hena even does is grin.

It’s only when Tetsuya gives her a certain look that she stands from her seat. Okada’s eyes are on her figure immediately, and she can feel his burning stare as she turns her back and walks away from his match. Backstage, she watches as Naito picks up a win over Okada like it’s a piece of cake. He’s so disoriented with her actions that his distraction has caused him a loss.

Storming backstage, Kazuchika finds her almost right away. His angry gaze locks on hers and for a moment she feels like prey for a predator to snatch up, but then she remembers that the LIJ boys are never too far away.

“What the fuck was that?” Kazuchika hisses at her, shoving a finger in her face when he’s close enough.

Hena feigns ignorance. “What was what?”

“You left halfway through my match! Made me lose!”

“I made you lose?” Hena purses her lips and grips her clutch in front of her body, shrugs a shoulder. “Not my intention, Okada-san. I just wanted to get back here before my husband did so I could greet him.”

Kazuchika is absolutely ropable. His lips pull back over his teeth and he swears at her, slams his fist down onto the table next to her. Hena doesn’t even flinch. “You’re here, front row, dressed like that— what message are you trying to send, Hena? You want to suck my dick again? Fuck me? There are better ways to ask then showing up here.”

Hena’s eyes are drawn to the orange mane of hair that she can see walking towards them, but her face remains deadpan, and it only angers Okada even more. He doesn’t know Tetsuya is right behind him. “You want to fuck me? Is that what I’m getting out of this? Did Tetsuya not give you enough when I sent that photo to him? Did he not give you what you wanted?”

Raising a single eyebrow, Hena slowly tilts her head. “Tetsuya, honey… does he think that because I sucked his cock he’s special?”

Kazuchika’s head snaps to where Naito is standing slightly behind him, anger still evident in his pink cheeks, but there’s no anger in Naito’s. Only satisfaction. “He thinks he’s special because he’s the golden boy. Thinks everything this company touches is his to own. I think it goes without saying, Kazu,” he directs his words towards the taller man now, smirk on his lips, “that my wife is not yours to talk to like that. I made a mistake with another woman’s body. She made a mistake in the form of your dick. Rest assured it will not happen again, and if you even so much as put a hand next to my wife one more time, you won’t have teeth to smile with.”

Tension is thick in the air, and Kazuchika huffs out a laugh. “Are you threatening me, Naito-san?”

“Yes.”

Okada nods and purses his lips. He raises his hands in a sign of retreat and stares at Hena once more before saying, “Threat received. Though, if she does turn up at my door again, I won’t stop myself… I hope you can understand. Enjoy the rest of your night, Hena-chan… call me if you need anything.”

With that, the champion strides away, leaving Hena and her husband staring after him with matching expressions.

“Well… he’s persistent if nothing else,” Tetsuya muses aloud. He finally lets his eyes rest on her and smiles cockily, raises his chin. “You’re the talk of backstage, Hena-chan. You should hear the way they talk about you, like you’re some kind of scary temptress… they’re right. You look dangerously beautiful tonight.”

A blush settles into her cheeks and she beams up at her husband, stands on the tips of her toes to throw her arms around his shoulders. “I’m only beautiful because I have you.”

Tetsuya kisses her. And even though it’s gentle and sweet, she can sense the hidden desire, the need Naito has to own her body tonight. After last night and last week, Hena is more than okay with letting him have his way with her. The thought of it alone curls her toes.

“So… shall we get out of here?”

Naito smirks down at her with a dark look in his eyes. “How do you feel about choking?”

[nahmooste]

Why We Lose, pt. 5

pairing: Tetsuya Naito / Female OC / Hiromu Takahashi warnings: smut, gagging, v nsfw a/n: yeah, look... i thought this was gonna be the last part but it turns out i need one more. sorry? tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @ghostofviper @onewingedgloria @littleblueghostspoon @narwhalneglect @princesstoniii @keltic-goddess

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, masterlist

There are rose petals scattered across the floor when she returns home from work one evening, her husband sitting at the table with champagne on ice and two flutes with strawberries impaled on the side of the glasses. He’s dressed in a dark red suit and holds a rose in one hand.

Hena regards Naito for a long moment before letting her bag slide of her shoulder and kicking off her shoes. “Are we celebrating something, Tetsuya?”

“Nothing in particular,” he replies. Standing from his chair, Naito approaches her with the flower extended, an offering he wants her to accept. “Tonight is just… closure, you could say.”

While Hena does accept the rose from him, her confusion is still evident. It’s been weeks since everything had exploded and their marriage has returned to some kind of normalcy, but something shifts uneasy in Hena when she looks at her husband now. “What do you mean ‘closure’?”

“Nothing bad, I promise. Just the end to this mess, maybe a start to something else.”

He’s talking in riddles. It’s nothing that Hena hasn’t dealt with before when he’s tried surprising her with something, but he’s also never worn the suit that he’s wearing under this roof.

She lets him guide her to the dining table, pour her a glass of the champagne, and she drink it carefully as she watches Naito. Soft music plays in the background and, had she not gone through that night all those weeks ago, she may have relaxed into the atmosphere. A scented candle burns in the space between them and very quickly Hena’s glass is finished.

“Nervous, my love?”

“Should I be?”

Naito smirks at her, his eyes unreadable. “Not at all.”

Is he lying?

After her third glass of champagne, where the bubbles are starting to float through her bloodstream and make her head giddy, Tetsuya takes her hand and directs her into their bedroom. There are more candles in here— one on either side of the bed, and more rose petals scattered around the floor. But her eyes remain firmly on the bed, anxiety beginning to build in her body.

“Tetsuya—“

“Shhh,” he hushes her, hand smoothing curled hair away from her neck. He stands behind her with heavy hands on her shoulders, teases a kiss on her exposed skin like he isn’t about to introduce something sinister to their sex life.

Hena lets him undress her. He slides his hands under her shirt and slowly lifts it over her head. Each newly exposed inch of her spine is subject to his mouth as he kisses his way up her back, and he does the same with her thighs when he pulls the pencil skirt from her waist. Naito is so soft with her that goosebumps raise over her skin, her lips parted, and then Naito is in front of her with his hands either side of her neck, kisses her so slow and sensually that Hena’s toes are curling in want.

When he pulls away from her, she’s staring up at him with wide eyes and red cheeks and glistening mouth and Naito pauses for a second, runs a thumb across her bottom lip. “Trust me,” he says lowly.

She nods at him.

Reaching behind him and towards the bed, Tetsuya grabs one of the contraptions and looks at it for a moment before staring back at her. “Open your mouth.” Hena opens her mouth obediently and without hesitation, Naito pushes a gag between her teeth and lips, fastens the strap at the back of her head. The way Naito stares at her… how his hand lifts to curl around her neck threateningly without squeezing… she’s completely at his mercy, and her panties are already soaked.

He grabs something else resting on the bed, feels the material between his fingers before turning back to her. “Wrists,” he says, and she offers them already pressing together. He wraps the cloth around her wrists and gives it a tug for good measure, lets her fall into his body when the strength of it sends her off balance. “Good,” he murmurs, more to himself than her.

But with what he says next, Hena’s heart plunges into her stomach, makes her take a step back from him. “Hiromu, you can come in.”

She stares at her husband with wide eyes and her breathing picks up when she realises how helpless she’s just become. She has no hands to hit with, not mouth to spit words with, and it’s exactly what her husband wanted. She’s fallen right into his trap like a moth to a flame.

Footsteps echo through their apartment. “Amazing, Naito-san! You did all of this for me?!”

Naito grins. His stormy eyes don’t once leave hers. “Do you like it?”

“Of course!” Hiromu replies, rounding the corner of their room. She sees him stop short from the corner of her eye. “Naito-san… this is the present you were talking about?”

Heat settles into her cheeks and for what feels like the hundredth time already, Hena tests the restraints. Her glare only makes Naito smile.

“Beautiful, no?”

Hiromu hums in appreciation and closes the distance between them, ghosts his mouth over her shoulder and arm until she flinches away from him, and then from under his lashes, Hiromu grins up at her. His hands are clasped behind his back like he’s inspecting a piece of artwork. “She seems nervous, Naito-san… always so nervous around me. Do I make you uncomfortable, Hena-chan?”

His grin only widens at her silence. He trails his hand up the inside of her thigh and hooks his finger around the material of her underwear, and instead of pushing them down, he pulls them up so they’re taut through her folds. His teeth are there a second later, softly biting at her skin, and Hena’s body jolts with the feeling of it.

“Should we move to the bed, Naito-san?” He asks, eyes dark as he stares up at her through his bangs.

Tetsuya smirks and together they move her onto the bed so that she’s on her back, legs spread wide. She doesn’t notice that Naito’s moved to stand by the door until it’s too late, and she wants to call out her husband’s name, but the sound is muffled around the gag.

And then the only thing that she can see is Hiromu. His childlike grin is a contradiction to the sin in the eyes. He kisses the gag and shifts his way down her body until he’s buried his face between her thighs. Shifting the material out of the way, Hiromu presses his tongue flat against her clit, huffs out a laugh at the way Hena arches into the movement. His tongue trails the line of her folds and he pushes it beneath, plunges it into her so quickly that Hena moans with how it feels. Her hands grab at the mess of his hair, twist through the messy curls until her nails are at his scalp.

Hiromu licks and sucks at her until she’s almost yelling, begging for something more, and Hiromu’s grip on her waist tightens as he flips her over, knees and elbows pressing into the bed. She hears the sound of a belt coming undone and then Hiromu is positioning himself against her.

“Naito-san… can I? Can I please?”

“Of course, Hiromu.”

He pushes into her slowly, and Hena moans in bliss at something finally being inside her. He moves gently at first and draws his sharp fingernails down her back, scratches her skin so that red welts stare back at him. And then he picks up his speed, goes so quick that her hair is bouncing to and fro with each thrust.

A weight dips on the bed and when Hena opens her eyes, Tetsuya is laying down on the bed in front of her, fist under his chin, and he watches the way her eyebrows pull in a mix of pleasure and pain, the way her entire body is jerked forward with each of Hiromu’s thrusts. “He feels good, doesn’t he?” Naito asks, smirk on his mouth. “Thick in all the right places… does he feel anything like me?”

Hena shakes her head as much as she can, cries out when Hiromu slaps a hand down on her ass.

“I’m going to take the gag off. The only thing you’re going to do is beg Hiromu to make you come. Do you understand?”

She nods at him and in seconds, the gag is hanging around her throat. And she begs— “please, please, please” until Hiromu drops one of his hands to her clit, presses down and circles until Hena’s body is tensing around him, and she comes biting into the skin of her arm to stop from screaming.

Above her, Hiromu hisses and pulls out, comes over her ass and the back of her thighs with a grunt and a swear.

Silence surrounds the three of them, even though both she and Hiromu are gasping for breath. “Naito-san… may I?”

She doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but her husband nods and then the smaller man is pulling her up until she’s in his arms. He stares at her with that same dark expression, but his face is blissful, and then he kisses her with lips so soft it’s almost unreal. His tongue presses against hers and she can taste herself on him, and then as quick as he’s there he’s gone, standing up and redoing his pants. Though she’s close to naked and completely ruined, Hiromu looks like he’s stepped from an ad.

“Thank you, Naito-san.”

He turns around and walks out just like that, and she doesn’t feel the bed move until Naito wraps his arms around her body, one squeezing her breast and the other sinking between her thighs, and Hena jerks in shock.

“This is not punishment, Hena… think of it as a gift,” Tetsuya whispers into her ear. “And now you can give me something, too.”

Hena doesn’t protest as Naito takes her body for his own, retaking his claim on her even though she was never anyone else’s. He fucks her gentle, caresses each part of her body until she’s writing under him for release, and he denies it until he’s ready to come.

In the morning when Hena wakes up, Naito isn’t there. A note on the bed from him is the only trace he ever slept beside her.

Watch me wrestle tonight it says, and there’s a backstage pass on the bedside table. Even more to her shock, he tells her to wear red. Hena finds a smirk curling her face, and she knows exactly what it is her husband wants to achieve. She should feel like she’s being paraded around, but instead… instead she feels pride swell in her chest.

This is the reason she married Tetsuya. Tonight? Tonight they were going to have some fun.

[nahmooste]

Why We Lose, pt. 2

pairing: Tetsuya Naito / Female OC / Hiromu Takahashi warnings: tension, cheating? i guess? not really, though. a/n: i said Kazu was gonna be in this part but i need to dedicate an entire part to him, so... next time. promise. and hopefully i did Hiromu’s character justice- not too childish but not too sinister. tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @ghostofviper @onewingedgloria @littleblueghostspoon @narwhalneglect @princesstoniii @keltic-goddess

Part 1, masterlist

Approaching Hiromu Takahashi requires a completely different tactic than approaching Bushi does. Hiromu is… quirky, Hena thinks to herself. He’s a delicate mix of childlike playfulness, loyalty, boyish charm, and downright seduction.

When he opens his door to Hena, she almost groans in appreciation. He’s wearing a dark green button down that sets off the red of his hair perfectly, and dark jeans that loosely hug the shape of his legs with a silver-buckled belt holding them up. He’s dressed smart, as usual, but she’s no idea what for.

“Hena-chan?” he says quizzically, tilting his head as he stares at her. “Why are you here? Is everything okay? Where’s Naito?”

And, like usual, Hiromu speaks his mind, flinging the questions at her without even taking a breath. Instead of answering them, Hena smiles brightly at her husband’s friend. “Hiromu, can I ask you a favour?”

“Of course!” He smiles back, eyes shining.

“I want to make Naito jealous, because he was being mean to me… do you like it when Naito is mean to you?”

The smile falls from his face then. A pout replaces it. “Naito is never mean to me.”

“Hiromu…”

He rolls his eyes at her and shoves his hands into his pockets, frowns at the floor. “I don’t like it. That’s why when he is mean to me, he never means it.”

Hena reaches out and carefully runs her fingers through Hiromu’s hair, drags her nails across his scalp in the way that he likes. His face returns to it’s natural state, lips pulled gently in a dopey grin. “Tetsuya was mean to me, Hiromu. He wasn’t nice and he went out and he kissed another girl. I want to ask if its okay for you to do me a favour and make Tetsuya jealous… I want him to know that being mean to other people isn’t okay.”

The Japanese man stares at her in trepidation, grin long gone, and his eyes change from their boyish charm to something a little more sinister. Hena feels the hairs on her neck raise. “So him being an asshole to you makes it okay for you to be an asshole to him?”

“He didn’t even say sorry, Hiromu. He doesn’t know how it hurts, so I want to show him. I want him to be sorry.”

“You might be sorry when this is done,” Hiromu mutters.

“Probably, yes, I know, but… if he knows, maybe he won’t do it anymore.”

He stares at her for a long while before he grabs her hand and pulls her into the apartment, offering her a glass of water just like Bushi had done. She turns down the offer and stands awkwardly in the centre of Hiromu’s apartment, bites her lip nervously, and when Hiromu returns her gaze, he raises an eyebrow at her.

“You seem uncomfortable.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Of course not, Hiromu. I’m just…”

“Nervous?” He offers, ducking his head to catch her gaze. He extends his hand to her palm up. “Come now, Hena-chan, if you’re already here you’ve made your decision, haven’t you?”

He’s right, though it doesn’t stop the way her stomach coils when she places her hand in his. Hiromu’s eyes are dark, smirk dangerous, and Hena gasps when he pulls her towards him quickly and without warning. His hand settles on the small of her back. Mouth next to ear. He smells like a contradiction, something sweet and something darker, and when he speaks in her ear, the sound sends a shiver down her spine. “What do you want us to do?”

“He’s kissed—“ her voice comes out strained, barely audible, and she swallows past the anxiety in her throat. “Naito kissed another woman. If I kiss you, take a photo of it…”

“Phone, please.”

She listens to him and fishes her phone out of her back pocket, turns the camera on so that his face fills her screen. “Look at me,” he says lowly, words caressing her ear, and she stares up at him with wide eyes, watches as he lowers his face until their lips are just centimetres apart, eyes hooded but emotionless. She hears the snap of the camera.

He slides the camera back into her pocket without breaking eye contact with her.

The thing about Hiromu is that unlike Naito, or Evil, or even Sanada— his anger isn’t a burning flame threatening to swallow her. He’s thoughtful, cunning. Dangerous in a way that makes her uncomfortable even under his gaze. Behind the boyish charm and that childlike exterior, Hena knows it would be a mistake to cross Hiromu.

“Is that all I can help you with, Hena-chan?” Hiromu asks. His voice is a mix of sweet care and cruel disregard.

She lowers her eyes to the ground. “Thank you, Hiromu-san.”

The way he watches her when she hightails it out of her apartment settles uneasily into her skin.

But looking at her phone in the cab ride home, she realises she achieved what she set out to do. The photo of her and Bushi is blurry but obvious in what it is, and the one of her and Hiromu is crystal clear and makes her heart beat weirdly.

By the time she arrives back to her apartment, the sky is dark, street life bustling around her.

Naito is waiting for her in the living room, expression blank. “Where have you been?” he asks as if he already knows, and Hena gazes at him for a moment before walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of juice. When she doesn’t answer him, Naito stands from the couch and walks towards her. “Don’t ignore me, Hena. Where have you been?”

“I went to visit your friends,” Hena says, raising an eyebrow. “I thought that maybe if I couldn’t make you see sense with my words, you’d see it with my actions.”

His stare is unreadable. “What are you talking about?”

When she pulls her phone out of her pocket, she cusses herself out; her hand is shaking and her husband won’t be blind enough to miss it. She opens up the album and clicks on the second last photo, holds it out for Naito to see. Holds her breath as he stares at in intently. His finger comes up and he swipes to the next photo, the one of her and Hiromu, and an eyebrow arches on his head.

For a moment, she expect for Naito to hit her. He doesn’t. Instead, he smirks at her, eyes still unreadable. “If you wanted to be shared, all you had to do was ask.”

With that, he walks away. Completely unfazed by the photos she’s shown him. Completely unfazed by her attempts to make him jealous. Hena feels the burning shame sink into her cheeks. She almost wants to hit him and yell at him again, but then what? Start a fight she can’t finish? Make him even more upset with her?

When she falls asleep that night, curled as far away from Naito as possible, she doesn’t expect him to bring it up again. She’s wrong.

“You’ve probably made a mistake going to Hiromu.”

She doesn’t answer him, stares blankly into the distance.

“Bushi will be upset for a while, of course, he probably won’t talk to you. He’s vindictive, y’know, but with a good fuck he’ll be over it. But Hiromu?” Tetsuya chuckles darkly at her. “Hiromu won’t ever forget. He’ll watch you like a hawk now. It’ll be his new favourite pass time. I hope you’re ready for that.”

Hena swallows past the thick lump in her throat. “Goodnight, Tetsuya.”

[nahmooste]

Your Mistake

prompt; #4: “I know it doesn’t count but I love being your mistake”

requested by: @onewingedgloria pairing: Tetsuya Naito / Female OC warnings: (brief) smut, toxic relationship, cheating. a/n: sorry? i think? i dunno about that ending tho tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @ghostofviper @onewingedgloria @littleblueghostspoon @narwhalneglect @princesstoniii @keltic-goddess

Tetsuya Naito is a broken man.

He’s married, wears the ring on his finger only sometimes, and there’s no pattern or reasoning behind it. Sometimes when he sees her and sometimes not.

What’s even more obvious to Kora is that Naito only comes to her when he’s feeling lonely, or sad, or both, really. He’ll never fly her out to see him, he’ll always just… arrive on her doorstep. Demand her time without saying a word. She’ll try to make him feel better, make him laugh, but it’s like he’s not even there half the time they’re together. Only when he’s fucking her… only when she lets him own her does he ever actually show emotion.

Kora knows that something is horribly, deeply wrong with his marriage. She doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t think she could. All she knows is that she loves him.

Tetsuya doesn’t often say a lot to her. Pleasantries, of course, but nothing that she can actually take away. So she talks about herself more times than not, and it seems to calm him mostly. If it does, he’s back out that door. If it doesn’t, they find their way into her bedroom.

She’s halfway to drunk when she opens the door, giddy with laughter that’s infectious to her friends. When she sees him, the sound stops dead in her throat because he looks— he looks like he might fall apart. Shoulders slumped, head hanging in shame, but his hand is gripping the wooden frame of her door so tightly his knuckles are white. A lump forms in her throat.

“Tetsuya…”

“You’re not alone,” he says, face smoothing out as he looks over your head. “How quickly can you get rid of them?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Tetsuya pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and nods, is about to walk away when Kora reaches out to grab his arm. She asks him to wait and, five minutes later, after all the complaining and the crying, she manages to get her friends out of her house. They pointedly glare at Tetsuya as they walk past, but he doesn’t care.

When she invites him in, Kora scratches the back of her head. “I’m, uh, celebrating, I guess. I got a promotion at work and get my own office and everything, so it’s all pretty new but… yeah, we were celebrating.”

Tetsuya nods his head at her. “Good for you.”

“Thanks,” Kora murmurs. She looks at him a little closer, the way he’s just standing there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets staring at everything that isn’t her. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I can’t come see you anymore.”

It’s as blunt as anything she’s ever heard, but Kora doesn’t expect the way her stomach drops or how her heart threatens to break. “I’m— what? I don’t… understand…”

Tetsuya glances at her for a long second before looking away again. “You don’t know a lot about my situation, but I’m… I’m really trying to sort things out with my wife. I think I might be able to do that better if I weren’t seeing you. So, I’ve come here to tell you and I hope that this’ll be the end of it.”

Anger flares inside Kora’s veins. “And you couldn’t have sent that to me in a message? Called me? You had to come here and do it in person to see if I’d break?”

“Kora… please don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

“Oh, fuck you, Naito!” She yells at him, shoving him back before she can think the better of it. “You made this difficult the second you fell into my bed! The moment you came back for seconds, for thirds, and you knew when I fell in love with you because you pulled this exact same stunt back then! Why didn’t you just call, huh? Wanna get in one last fuck before you quit cold turkey?”

Tetsuya is staring at her like she’s slapped him. In surprise, in anger. He’s staring at her with the same raw emotion he tries so hard to hide.

But she’s right. When Kora raises an arm to hit him with it, the Japanese man twists the limb behind her back and forces her forwards until she’s bent over the armrest of her couch, and there’s a string of expletives falling from her mouth long before they’ve stopped moving.

“You’re so infuriating,” Naito hisses into her ear, and she tries not to react to how his hard length is pressing into her ass as his body follows the line of hers. “Can’t just let me leave, can you? Always have to be that one drug I can never turn down, the only thing I crave when I have it all…”

He strips her down until she’s almost naked. She yells at him, tells him that if he wants to leave the door is right fucking there, but then her body reacts to his touch, craves more when she knows she shouldn’t.

When he speaks again, she doesn’t know who he’s talking to. “This is the last time… this is the last fucking time.”

Kora lets him fuck her. He fills her entirely, hits the top of her cervix like this in a way that makes her moan in both pleasure and pain. Because that’s what it is with Naito— always pleasure mixed with pain. Never one or the other.

His nails pull down the length of her spine and Kora lets herself curl back into him.

Her back is arched and a knee pressed into the couch, but Naito’s got fingers wrapped around her thigh, the others twisting her nipple, and Kora so desperately wants this to last forever. She orgasms when his lips attach to the side of her neck, when his fingers drop to her clit. He finishes inside of her. Makes his claim on her body. Owns her even without realising.

He’s redressing before she can fathom any thoughts in her brain— when the door open, her voice reaches out to him. “I know it doesn’t count… but I love being your mistake.”

The door closes, and Kora feels like she’s being ripped apart from the inside out, but nothing compares to the look on Naito’s face when he realises he hasn’t walked out that door.

[nahmooste]

Why We Lose, pt. 1

pairing/s: Tetsuya Naito / Female OC, BUSHI / Female OC warnings: manipulation, cheating, swearing, mostly sfw a/n: here’s another multi-chap fic involving my favourite asshole, other members of LIJ, and an appearance from the IWGP champ in the next part. i’m excited to write this! also Hena is lowkey crazy, but it’s fun writing her :^) tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @ghostofviper @onewingedgloria @littleblueghostspoon @narwhalneglect @princesstoniii @keltic-goddess

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

She stands with her hands on her hips, shorts slung ridiculously low and shirt barely covering her stomach, and something about the way she’s standing gathers Tetsuya Naito’s attention entirely. He glances up at her from his televised baseball game, frowns a little. As if he’s confused. As if he has the right to be confused. “What?”

She shoves her phone in his face, squeezes it so tightly her knuckles are white. “What the fuck’s this, huh?”

He inspects the photo closely for a second, an eyebrow lifting to his hairline. He knows exactly what it is. She can see it on his face, in the way his eyes are emotionless. Tossing the phone down onto the couch, she slaps him hard enough that his head snaps to the side. He thumbs the corner of his mouth, trails his tongue along his lip.

“Wanna explain to me why you’re stupid enough to get caught sucking face with some fucking slut?!”

“Hena…”

“Don’t Hena me, you piece of shit!” She yells at him, slaps him again. “I’m your wife! I don’t care what the fuck you do on tour as long as you come home to me, but this? This, Tetsuya? I knew you were a womaniser but I didn’t think you were a dumbass.”

She wants to scream at him more, tell him to get the fuck out of her life, but the honest truth is that Hena loves him. She’s married him. She knew what Tetsuya Naito was like before she said yes to him, even before she started dating. She’s made a somewhat honest man out of him— out of sight, out of mind, she thinks. But the photo— the fact that Tetsuya was reckless enough to do something like that… it makes her see red.

But she’s slapped him twice. Ignited a fire in him which almost matches hers in intensity. His ears, underneath that mane of orange hair, are bright red. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter, Tetsuya.”

Naito launches out of his seat and stands nose to nose with her, makes her crane her head back so she doesn’t wither under his imposing figure. He raises a hand to her neck and presses his thumb right into her throat. “I bought this house. Everything in it, too. And I married you, so if I’m not mistaken… everything under this roof belongs to me. Slap me one more time and you’ll have nothing.”

He lets her go so suddenly that goosebumps raise on her arms. Naito sits back down on the couch and resumes watching his game, looks so unbothered by everything that’s just happened that Hena almost can’t believe it. “You’re not even going to apologise?”

Silence is his answer.

She snatches her phone from the couch and storms to their room, chucks on a light jacket and grabs her purse before stalking back through the living room to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Naito calls out to her, and he stares after her in a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Somewhere you’re not. If you won’t leave, I will.”

Hena yanks the front door open and is gone before her husband can run after her.

Honestly, she doesn’t even know where she’s going. All she knows is that she’s angry and the only way to make Naito see how bad he’s fucked up is to make him jealous, which he hasn’t been for a very long time. And Hena isn’t stupid; she knows that she’s attractive, otherwise Naito wouldn’t have stuck with her this long. She knows there’s some jealousy on the other end of the Los Ingobernables members— it’s why she isn’t allowed to drink with them. Because, just like her husband, when Hena gets drunk… she gets handsy. With everyone.

And as she’s trying to formulate a plan of revenge in her head, Hena can’t help but stop at Bushi. At Hiromu. Tetsuya’s brothers, almost. And attractive, she admits.

It doesn’t take too long for the taxi to arrive at Bushi’s apartment.

She waits for someone to exit the building and sneaks in, smiles at the guard who stares at her suspiciously. She presses the button for Bushi’s level and when she knocks at his door, it doesn’t take too long for him to answer.

“Hena?” He frowns, caution evident on his features as he glances out into the hall for any sign of his leader. “Where’s Tetsuya?”

“At home,” she says lowly. “I just… needed someone to talk to.”

She knows that what she’s doing is manipulative. That the boys might hate her after this, but she’s so, so incredibly beyond mad that she doesn’t care. She wants Naito to hurt. She wants him to hurt like he made her hurt.

Bushi pulls the door open wider for her and ushers her in, asks if she wants a glass of water or anything, and she turns down his kind offer. “Just a shoulder,” she says, sitting down on the edge of his L shaped couch. He sits diagonal to her, knee gently bumping hers.

“What’s wrong?”

Hena meets his concerned eyes for a moment before dropping staring at the floor. “He’s an asshole. He was stupid enough to get photographed kissing someone else, and someone, a fucking fan, sent it to me.”

Bushi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Hena… I mean, you married him knowing this was a possibility. Through thick and thin, right?”

“I know, I know, Bushi, I just…” she sighs and leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees, buries her face in her hands. “I just didn’t expect it to hurt this much.”

When Bushi reaches forward to place a gentle hand on her thigh, Hena bites her lip. Her eyes are teary enough that when she looks at him, it looks like she’s been crying, and the face that Bushi makes… he feels sorry for her. Like he knows she deserves better, even if her husband is an asshole. Hena drops her hand to his. Squeezes a little, but doesn’t let it go.

“I can’t help but think… fuck, I feel so stupid…” Hena laughs it off, finally drops Bushi’s hand.

“Can’t help but think what?”

She glances at him from under her lashes. Smiles ruefully, pulls her lip back into her mouth. “Think that maybe if it were someone else, they’d treat me better.”

He understands what she implies immediately. She sees his visible swallow and shifts a little closer to him. “Maybe,” he murmurs, “I just hope that whatever he does, he makes you happy. It’s a shame to see such a beautiful lady cry, after all.”

She stares at the Japanese wrestler with hopeful eyes. “Stop my tears, then.”

Bushi doesn’t miss a beat— the romantic-at-heart grabs her face softly and presses his lips to hers, kisses her so gently that he’s gone a second later. His eyes are wide, like he’s just made a horrible, horrible mistake, but that look disappears when Hena chases his mouth with her own. She kisses him back, presses into him until he’s sitting and her knees are either side of his.

He tastes like a weird concoction of coffee and green tea, his smell just as intoxicating. His gentle hands curl around to the back of her head, and one continues its way down until it’s sitting against the skin of her waist.

Slowly, enough so that he won’t know, Hena pulls her phone from her back pocket, and out of the corner of her eye, she slides the camera up until it shows her kissing Bushi. She takes the photo. Slides the phone back into her pocket. Pulls away from the kiss with hooded eyes and red cheeks. “Bushi…”

“We shouldn’t be doing this...”

Hena kisses him again, draws her lips down his neck until all she can smell is his cologne. She breaths into his neck, savours the feeling of how gently he’s holding her. “Naito has made his choice, I’ve made mine.”

But the moment seems to fade from him. He puts both his hands on her shoulders and slides out from under her, lithe as a cat, stares at her for a long moment before making his own choice. When he walks towards the door, Hena knows she shouldn’t fight him. She knows what the wise option is here.

“You should go.”

She doesn’t even look at him as she leaves.

[nahmooste]

Neighbour

prompt; #20: “Someone took objection to my face with a bottle” Last Orders, Nothing But Thieves

requested by: anon pairing: Tetsuya Naito / Female OC warnings: mentions of blood and drug use, but nothing too hardcore. a/n: this is a nice beginning. may continue into a small ficlet when i have the chance. the scars mentioned are the most obvious telltale sign of heroine use from injection. tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @vipervenomisgoodforyou @onewingedgloria @littlebluespoon @narwhalneglect @princesstoniii @keltic-goddess

Tetsuya Naito has lost count of the number of women he’s slept with. Somewhere between drinking and wrestling and fucking and fighting, he’s lost sense of what his intentions are, too.

There’s a woman that lives across from him— she’s attractive, he barely acknowledges, but she keeps to herself mostly and doesn’t bother him too much. If nothing else, he appreciates that. He arrives home from tour one afternoon and she’s yelling at someone so loudly he can hear it through her door, but when he slams his shut, she stops immediately.

If she knows who he is, she doesn’t bother him about it. If she doesn’t know who he is, she’s not interested in finding out.

It’s the perfect neighbour situation.

Except, there was this one night… he barely thinks about it. She had a visitor, one that stumbled drunkenly into his door while he was home and busted it right open. Her eyes are wide as saucers and she apologises so profusely that he can’t help but find pity in the situation; her boyfriend is drunk and she has no control over him. He doesn’t look drunk to Naito, but definitely under the influence of something.

When she pays for his door to get fixed, without even having to be asked to, she sends him another apology in the form of an expensive looking bottle of whisky. He finds out later that she wasn’t able to pay her months rent because of it.

But now, as he stares across the bar at the man who literally fell into his apartment, he can’t help but wonder. He excuses himself from his table. When he’s standing in front of the guy, Naito waits until he has his attention.

“Sorry, do I know you?”

“Your girlfriend… the one that lives in the Lotus Park towers? I live across from her.”

The guy stares at him stupidly. “And?”

“And you broke my door open when you fell against it.”

Naito can see the gears visibly moving, tries not to sigh in impatience because he doesn’t even know why he’s doing this. As he looks down, he notices the scars in the crooks of his elbows, and his entire mood shifts.

“You’re the guy! Yeah, sorry man. My mistake. She’s not even my girlfriend anymore, just some fucking slut I can’t deal with.”

“You know she had to foot the bill for that, right?”

“For what?” he asks, “The door?”

“Yeah. You broke it and she paid for it. Seem fair to you?”

He scoffs at Naito. “It’s whatever, man. Why do you care anyway?”

“You’re at a bar in a private booth ordering a blue label whisky with a Rolex attached to your arm, probably the only thing that weighs more than your ego. If you’re here wasting that kind of money, surely you can pay her back.”

It’s like Naito has lit a fire under the mans seat. He jumps out of it and is straight in his face, lips pulled back in a way that’s supposed to be intimidating. “I’d suggest you drop the tone before I drop you where you stand. That bitch isn’t getting a cent from me and neither are you.”

“The only thing I hate more than someone acting tougher than they are is a drug addict expecting other people to clean up their messes.”

There’s a fist in his face before he can dodge it, and then the rest of the man’s body follows. A lady next to the screams and Naito’s throwing fists back until they’re separated, thrown out into the Roppongi streets by bouncers that know them both.

They’re only separated for a moment before someone hands the fucker a bottle, and in seconds it’s thrown with perfect aim at Naito’s head.

He doesn’t remember much after that. He’s bleeding, definitely, possibly concussed, and he thinks that maybe his only reason for going out that night was to start a fight. It happens too often now that it can’t be a coincidence. Tetsuya Naito fucks a lot of women and he enjoys it, loves having his dick in their mouths, but he also enjoys provoking people with his words alone. It’s a problem.

She’s waiting next to his door when the elevator lets him out. Frowns at him like she doesn’t already know. “What happened to you?”

He shrugs. “Someone took objection to my face with a bottle.”

“Kohei?”

“If that’s your bastard ex-boyfriend, yes.”

She sighs at him, but a there’s a grin threatening to escape. “Did you get him back?”

“Yeah,” Naito says, smirking proudly. “Think he lost a tooth.”

“Good. Fucker deserved it.”

Naito nods at her and bites his lip, scratches the back of his neck with the hand he can still move. “I’m Tetsuya.”

“Ami.”

“Nice to meet you. Properly, I mean.”

And God, she’s beautiful when she smiles. Her short cropped hair sits nicely on her shoulders, accentuates her collarbones, and Naito, for once, doesn’t let his eyes trail the rest of her body. He likes his neighbour, after all— doesn’t want to ruin it.

“Do you want to, uh, come inside? Have a drink? I’ll clean up your face, too.”

He finds himself nodding at her before he can think the better of it. “Sure.”

[nahmooste]

I Want To Let You Down

pairing: Tetsuya Naito/Female OC warnings: as usual there’s physical altercations, swearing, and my favourite thing in the world; tension. there’s also a second part coming w/ smut. a/n: i’ve been struggling to write this one for about a week now? but i finally like the finished product with the help of this song (definitely where the title came from). this is also the same FOC from this request, bc you know i can’t leave my boy Naito hanging like that.  tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

All things considering, Sam isn’t surprised that things have turned out the way they have. She’s pushed and pushed and pushed and then he shoved back and now— now she’s here, and he’s there, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Nothing, because he’s always been a pushover when it’s come to her and she’s always been too much for the both of them.

Fuck, she’s even accused him of cheating. She knows that he would never, and yet she still lets it sit between them like it’s some kind of weapon.

Maybe it’s what she gets for being so Goddamn overbearing. The constant texts, the constant phone calls, fuck, the more she thinks about it, the more she deserves to be on the receiving end of a restraining order.

So, she turns away from it all. Every time she thinks of texting him, she snaps a rubber band down on the underside of her wrist and holds her breath for as long as she can. Every time she feels like calling him, she picks up her phone and throws it across the room. It’s like she’s going through some kind of withdrawal, the thoughts shaking her brain, the impulse leaving her on the ground heaving. She’s been through worse, but… never alone. ~

Naito knows that he gets under her skin. She’s rejected him time and time again and he makes her uncomfortable, and of this he is accurately aware of. But he likes the chase, the exhilaration of a slap, the curve of his mouth as she moves away from him even when there’s no space. He knows that Seiya is in love with her, and Seiya knows that Naito craves, just once, to fuck her. Seiya will punch him square in the mouth if he kisses her— and so that makes him want it even more.

She’s small, top of her head barely brushing his shoulder when she stands next to him, and he wants to bury his face between the chest she endeavours to keep clothed around him.

And, he’ll admit; he’s given the thought no rest since the split happened.

So he turns up to meetings on time with a spring in his step, does what he’s told in hopes that he might catch just a brief moment with the evasive woman. He knows where her office is but doesn’t want to go out of his way. Instead, with all the promotional meetings and media drives, he knows there’ll be some overlap.

He’s right.

The day before the G1 starts, Sam is helping organise some logistics between New Japan and an international journalism company. She’s dressed in a silk blouse, bow tie up by her throat, and a slim skirt that stops just under her knees. Heels that boost her height considerably.

The blood rushes straight to his penis as he imagines those heels up by her ears.

Someone gently pushes him in the direction of his chair and he smirks when he realises he’s been staring for too long, but it doesn’t even matter anymore. He’s not taking no for an answer tonight. He’ll change her mind, of this he’s sure. He’s too ready for it now to be pushed away again.

Naito eyes her the entire event, smirks in her direction when she finally meets his eyes, and he catches the way a blush tints her cheeks. He also notices the way Seiya pointedly avoids both their eyes, almost like he’s afraid to confront what’s happening between them, almost like if he sees it, he’ll snap Naito in half, leader or not. He’s aware the only thing Seiya wants is Sam by his side once more. He neglects to mention to anyone that he slipped the red lingerie into their bed only to have this exact opportunity, though he suspects that Seiya already knows this.

Someone calls his name and Naito asks them to repeat the question, grins a little at his own recklessness— he’s usually in a world of his own during conferences like these, either trying to sleep or pretending like he is, but this is for a different reason entirely. ~

The conference ends as the sun starts to set. She stays behind to help pack up because she knows the last thing she needs her boss to see is her skipping out on duties; she doesn’t need the questions that follow. Instead, she plays it out and converses with the other journalists, stumbling between Japanese and English as they laugh about mistranslations.

She wraps her fingers around some lighting cords and a technician points her in the direction of a room that’s pitch black, tells her that she can lock the door on the way out.

There’s a bunch of boxes with cables and fixtures, a table along the far wall, and in one of the corners is a bunch of standing lights. She assumes that she’s the only one in the room, but when she turns around, she’s met with Naito’s shadowy silhouette. His arms are crossed, that much she can see, and the way the shadows dance off his face has the hairs on the back of her neck standing.

Colour immediately settles on her cheeks. “Can I help you?” she asks, trying to play off her caution as contempt.

“Samantha… what are you so afraid of?” He questions. She can hear the smirk on his mouth.

She swallows around the anxiety starting to build in the back of her throat. Realising very quickly that she’s alone here, and that no one will come looking for her, she acknowledges to herself that yes, she’s afraid of him, and she always has been. Having Seiya by her side for just the smallest amount of time had given her comfort in knowing that Tetsuya Naito wouldn’t do a thing. But Seiya isn’t here now, and Naito is, and they’re in a room alone, and this is not somewhere she feels comfortable.

Naito steps forward when his question goes unanswered, fingers switching the lights in the room on. “Maybe you’re afraid of how he’ll react when he finds out about this… he knows how I am, but does he know that you’re not as innocent as you like to believe?”

She swallows whatever dignity she has left in her body— he’s right. And he knows it too, because he smirks at her silence and pulls the door behind him shut. She knows that she can leave, knows that he doesn’t hold a magic key that locks it, but… she lets herself believe that he’s cut off any chance of her escape, because then it makes it easier for her to accept what’s about to happen. Like it hasn’t been something sitting under the surface waiting to be scratched.

Deep down, she knows what he craves— and even further down… she knows she wants to give it to him.

Sam swallows heavily again. “Seiya… he’ll…”

Naito dips his head at her and takes a step forward, and then another one. “He knows that I refrained myself until you two were not together.”

Her blush turns darker. “This is where you work… it’s a public space…”

“Are you afraid of getting caught?” he muses, and Sam stiffens as the space between them becomes non-existent. His thumb presses under her chin until she’s looking him in the eye. “Or are you afraid that you’ll like what I’m about to do to you?”

Sam gapes at him, but doesn’t speak— she knows the answer to that even if it’s unspoken. So does Naito.

He slams his mouth to hers with such force that she takes a step back in shock, and he follows her, pushes them until her ass hits the table, but his kiss is unrelenting. His tongue forces its way past her lips and his hand squeezes her jaw to keep her mouth open. Sam moans at his intensity, tries to push him away only to have his free hand rip one of her arms away. A cry falls from her throat and then she’s gasping for air as Naito grabs her throat, shoving her up onto the table and against the wall behind them.

There’s too much of him at once and then nothing of him at all.

Sam stares at the man in front of her with wide eyes. She’s barely pulling air into her lungs and yet he looks calm as anything. He slips off his suit jacket, sets it down on the table next to her, then starts on his cuff buttons. His eyes never leave hers. His movements never halt or slow.  “Take off your shirt,” he commands, “and your skirt, too.”

She can’t believe his audacity.

She pushes herself forward off the table to slap him so hard his head snaps to the side. Shaking in rage and lust, Sam stills as Naito turns back to stare at her with the kind of smirk that makes her thighs clench, and she inhales a shaky breath. “I’m not so easy that you can have me when you want.”

“Oh, but you are, aren’t you?”

She slaps him again.

He laughs at her, the sound starting from deep in his throat. “I’ll tell you a secret, Samantha,” he murmurs, “do you know that I couldn’t wait? That I didn’t want to wait? Seiya doesn’t know how those panties ended up in your bed, but I do…”

Nausea settles itself in her stomach. She stares at Naito in a mixture of horror and anger as his words register, and the latter slowly manifests itself in her veins and turns her vision red. This was planned. All of it was planned.

“He’s telling you the truth when he says he didn’t cheat on you. I... I can’t remember her name, but she didn’t seem to mind that the bed was not mine. And the best part of it all,” he continues, like he doesn’t realise the kind of fire he’s lit, “is that everyone gets what they want. I get you, you get to run and crawl back to Seiya after I’m finished, and he gets back the love of his life. Poetic, isn’t it? Organised chaos… I’d apologise, really, but I’m not sorry.”

She slaps him. And then again and then again until his hands take her wrists, and then she spits in his face. His eyes find the ground for a long moment before they return to hers, void of emotion.

She speaks like she isn’t crying. “You’re a fucking pathetic, worthless piece of shit, you know that, right? I fucking hope he clocks you so good that your fucking teeth fly into the back of your throat, I fucking hope you rot in hell!” She only realises that she’s using English when she finishes, and then she swears at him in Japanese. “Shi’ne.”

He raises an eyebrow. The humour falls from his face and instead silence surrounds them, and then Sam realises very quickly what kind of situation she’s in. No one knows where she is. No one will come looking for her. She’s in a room alone with Tetsuya Naito, whose hands are tight around her wrists, and there’s a slow anger twisting in his eyes as he stares at her.

“Shi’ne?” He repeats slowly. He drops her hands like they’re made of acid. “Leave then. Go. If you don’t want this and you don’t want to be here, go.”

Sam shoves past him and stalks towards the exit, intending to rip the door open and leave him standing in her wake. But as her hand hovers over the handle, she hesitates. And she hates herself because suddenly she’s not so sure that she wants to leave.

There’s a sound of movement behind her, and Samantha takes a deep breath. What does she want?

[nahmooste]

“Harder”

pairing: Tetsuya Naito/Female OC warnings: nsfw, darkish. aggressive behaviour, physical abuse, hard smut. swearing as usual. i think that covers it? a/n: 2000ish words. i decided to do both a Pete Dunne and Naito fanfic, so here’s the first finished result. this was fun to write? like surprisingly so… does that make me a sadist? probs hey...  tags: @wrestlingismyfavourite @devittsbalor @fireangel1978 @laziestgirlintheworld @vipervenomisgoodforyou @narwhalneglect @destinodejapon

Part 1, Part 2

Sam walks away from it. She walks away from him and the situation and yet there’s still some part of her that chastises the fact she let it go as far as she did. She knows that he’ll tell Seiya, and she knows that it shouldn’t bother her as much as it does— she and Sanada are through and that’s the end of that.

Except… except, somehow, somewhere along the line, she’d gone out of her way to track him down. To find him. To try and tell him that she’d left, no matter how impure her intentions had been during the encounter. She wanted him to know that she knew he hadn’t cheated. She wanted him know that she’d turned Naito away from a compromising position and an even more compromising proposition.

So now she stands in front of his hotel room door in the middle of Tokyo city, and she knocks before she can takes the easy option.

He answers the door with the same glare she remembers so well, and then he raises an eyebrow at her unexpected appearance, like she’s the last thing he expected. The last time he’d spoken to her… she’d threatened to sleep with Naito. She almost had.

“Sam…” he says, and a momentary flicker of emotion appears in his eyes. Then, it’s gone. “What do you want?”

Her eyes drop past his shoulder into the empty room. Relief floods her body. “Time. Please, I need… I need to be honest with you.”

Sanada raises an eyebrow at her, sighs when she doesn’t elaborate any further. “We’re not fuck buddies anymore, Samantha. I don’t have much time to waste.”

“I…” she lets her gaze rest on him and then takes a deep breath, tries not to let his words sting, but they do, and suddenly she’s not so sure what she even wants to get out of this. “Naito tried to fuck me. Last week. And I almost let him, you know, because we aren’t together anymore and I have nothing to lose. Except… except I thought of you— of us and, I just… I didn’t want to, and I walked away from him.”

He stares at her with little emotion. “That’s it?”

Sam can’t help the huff that sounds at the back of her throat and takes a step back. Well fuck, that hurt more than she thought it would. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“Okay.”

When he goes to shut the door on her, Sam frowns and sticks her booted foot in the way. She knows that she’s only done this to clear her own conscience, that he’ll never care about this and nor he should, but what she says next surprises even herself. “Actually, no, that’s not it. I accused you of cheating when I found those panties in our bed. I owe you an apology, because even when you defended yourself, I didn’t believe you. I didn’t believe you until last week, when Naito mentioned it so casually… that he was the one who took a girl up to our room and fucked her. He left those panties there because he knew I’d find them. I didn’t believe you, and I’m sorry.”

And before Seiya can react to her and what she’s just told him, she walks away.

Except her hotel room offers no escape.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

On her bed sits Tetsuya Naito, smirking as usual, staring at her with faux innocence. “Your door was unlocked, Samantha, no need to be rude to your guest.”

She scoffs at him. “It’s a hotel, doors aren’t just unlocked.”

If he cares about what she’s just said, he doesn’t show it. Naito stands and tilts his head at her. “What did he say? When you were spilling your heart out to Seiya— what did he say?”

Sam’s cheeks burn as she glares at him and her nostrils flare. Of course he knows. “None of your fucking business.”

“None of my business,” Naito mimics, and he nods his head slowly, purses his lips. He looks at the watch on his wrist, then back to her, and then to the door. “If it were none of my business I wouldn’t be here.”

The Japanese wrestler moves so quickly she barely has a chance. One second there’s space between them and the next his fingers are at her throat, squeezing, and his other hand twists into her hair and yanks her head back until she’s staring up at him, her nails clawing at his skin, choked gasp falling from her mouth.

“You really think I’m going to take that as an answer? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Naito laughs, and then he pushes Sam back so harshly she hits the wall with a dull thud. “Tell me what he said, Samantha.”

The breath she breathes sounds more like a gasp than anything else. “Go fuck yourself,” she hisses at him.

When Naito raises a hand, she’s fully expecting him to strike her. There’s a rage burning in his eyes that she’s not seen before and not a flicker of emotion on his hard face.

And yet, she can’t stop herself from egging him on. “You want to hit me? Fucking do it,” she spits, “Fucking hit me!”

He does.

Her head snaps to the side and the sickening thwack echoes in her head and around the room, and she supposes she should be surprised that he’s struck her, but she’s not. When she turns to look at him, Naito doesn’t even look sorry. He doesn’t look like he regrets it. And then, despite herself and the way her entire being is screaming at her to not, she bares her teeth at him and snarls out “harder.”

In a quick movement he’s spun her and pressed his hand to the middle of her back, pushing Sam down until her head is resting against the wall, her body at a perfect ninety degree angle, ass high in the air. Naito yanks down the pants she’s wearing and the next sound she makes is loud and unrestrained— he slaps his hand down hard on her thigh, does it again but a little higher, rubs the tender skin until her sharp yells subside only to do it again. And the thing is, Naito’s not holding back; she knows her skin is going to bruise, knows that she won’t be able to sit properly, and that he’s hitting her so hard it’s jarring her entire body into the wall.

Then she’s being spun again, hands squeezing her throat once more. She has to crane her head to look up at his shadowed face. “Get on your knees.”

She does. Her face is at the waistband to his jeans and she’s caught for a moment staring at the way the material is starting to tighten. He slips his foot between her thighs and nudges them apart and, with the hand not twisted in her hair, Naito slaps her.

“Are you listening? Suck.”

When Sam spits at him, Naito squats and slaps her again, then shoves his fingers so far into her mouth she chokes on them, gagging. But she can’t move her head, can’t get away from the position, and so she’s left staring through watery eyes at Tetsuya Naito, completely and utterly at his mercy.

She’s struggling to get air into her lungs and claws at his hands, but all he does is push them in further. “Take my dick out and I’ll take my fingers out.”

At this stage, there’s nothing else she can do. Sam gasps for air the moment his fingers are gone, has a second of nothing before his digits are replaced by his hard length. It feels like an out of body experience— she’s kneeling half naked in a hotel room with Tetsuya literally fucking her face. This doesn’t feel real, but her hands, one on his hip and the other curled around the wrist behind her head, are desperately trying to put some space between them.

Sam falls onto her forearms when he pulls away, sucking in breath after breath and through hazy vision, stares at the Japanese man. He’s unbuttoning his shirt quicker than usual, kicking his pants off, and Sam kicks off her shoes and scoots backwards as Naito lurches towards her to rip her own pants away.

“Get up.”

He bends her over the bed before she’s even half standing.

There’s no prep. Naito pushes into her with only her spit acting as a lubricant, and the yell that tears from Sam’s throat is anything but quiet. He hits her cervix straight away and the painful jolt it sends through her body rips from her another noise, but at this stage, Naito doesn’t care. He’s using her. Getting what he wants with no regard to her or her body, and she doesn’t know whether that makes her mad or only turns her on more.

He starts to groan when sweat forms on her skin. “Take your shirt off,” he mutters, almost helping her with it, flicking the clasp to her bra open.

She’s on her back then, completely naked before him. A dark flush colours her chest as he takes a moment to stare at her body.

“Kuso,” he says dangerously low. “You want to torture me, don’t you?”

“Just fucking get this over with,” she hisses back.

Naito grabs her shoulder and yanks her off the bed, pushes her until the top of her ass hits a tall table, and then he’s lifting her up and onto it, takes his place between her legs. She’s torn between slapping him and swearing at him— she settles for the latter when he slams back into her, and gasps loudly when he brings a hand down on her breast.

A hand wraps tight around her throat, forcing her head back against the wall, and she can’t help the noises that start to fall from her mouth.

“Fuck,” Naito breathes.

His face is tinged pink with effort, orange hair sticking to his skin, and there’s a slight sweat forming across the top of his shoulders. Like this, he looks fucking amazing. Thrusting into her, taking her without even asking her… her body is starting to respond to him now.

His dark eyes hold hers for a moment. “Come.”

She wants to laugh at him and tell him that she’s no where close, and then she shuts her glistening mouth and drops her fingers to her clit, circling and pressing until she’s gasping for breath. She comes convulsing around him. Her body curls into itself and her jaw drops, white hot ecstasy pulsing throughout her, and before she’s even down, Naito pulls out completely and jerks himself a few times before the hot mess of his cum shoots over her breasts and her chin.

Bar their panting breaths, silence surrounds them. 

Sam holds her eyes shut. She doesn’t want to open them. Doesn’t want to see what she’s just done. Doesn’t look at Tetsuya Naito until he’s pulling away from her. And when she does, she feels tears start to prick at her eyes; what has she just done?

“Don’t cry,” he snaps at her, “this was bound to happen. Accept it and move on, Seiya has.”

Her voice is small. “Fuck you.”

Naito strides forwards and Sam gasps sharply as he embeds two digits into her raw pussy, curling them against her g-spot. He doesn’t move them, though, and she whines, almost, her entire body tensed. “I think once is enough, don’t you? Don’t want Seiya to think I’ve overstepped my boundary.”

She doesn’t understand a fucking word coming from his mouth, but the noise that falls from hers as he pulls his fingers away is borderline pathetic.

Then he’s dressing himself. He gazes at her from the corner of his eyes. “Are you just going to sit there?”

Finally, like she’s peeling herself from quicksand, Sam is able to move. She glares at the Japanese man as she pulls the jeans back over her thighs, reaching for her bra and shirt only to have the skimpy material plucked from her fingers. Sam frowns at him,  narrows her eyes.

“I think I’ll keep this.”

And then Tetsuya Naito quite literally walks through the hotel room door with her bra in his hand.

[nahmooste]

HELP

Naito/FOC or Pete Dunne/FOC for my super dark fic?