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The thing Aragaki Shinjiro disliked most about being back with the SEES is that he was discovering new things about himself. Benign stuff, mostly--like that he actually enjoyed cooking for everyone, that he had admittedly missed spending time with Akihiko, that he functioned significantly better in his daily life when he had untethered access to hot water. Uncomfortable revelations, sure, but ones he could handle.
Also, he had a daddy kink.
Among the sweet little nothings that came with domestic comfort was THAT. Having spent so long in Iwatodai’s underbelly, Shinjiro had been hit on by his fair share of prostitutes looking for a payday; not much could pique his interest. Not fake tits, not a sloppy back-alley blowjob, not even feigned interest in him as a person. He didn't indulge in much when it came to sex and, consequently, he didn't require much to be satisfied. He didn't peg himself as the kinky type.
And yet, there he was. Staring at himself in the mirror in his room, his brain feeling at the fact that Aragaki Shinjiro likes being called Daddy. That was him, the cursed one, Aragaki Shinjiro. And not only that—he was especially, appropriately cursed when that word came out of Arisato Minako's mouth.
He didn't even know how to fucking touch this.
It had started in Tartarus, because of course it did--up until recently, nothing Shinjiro discovered about himself came without the promise of bodily harm. He, Akihiko, Koromaru, and their leader were on the 127th floor and Minako had ordered them to split up to find the exit--a standard move, nothing out of the ordinary. She had pulled Shinjiro with her--again, not a surprise, as her physical strength waxed and waned with whatever persona she had equipped and Shinjiro was powerful.
Whenever Minako paired up with Shinjiro, they worked in silence. Shinjiro appreciated that about her as a leader--she knew how to adapt to each of her party member's fighting styles, and Shinjiro's was "shut up and strike." And she may not have been strong, but she was always swift, all strong legs and svelte, athletic figure and focused dark red eyes. Fighting alone with Arisato Minako was a treat.
Another somewhat uncomfortable truth that Shinjiro had learned about himself this past month was that he liked redheads.
The redhead that was his leader turned to him after their sixth encounter with a group of Shadows, that even gaze now trained on Shinjiro as the final enemy dissolved into black smoke at her feet. "Tired yet, Aragaki-senpai?" she asked with a mischievous upward quirk of her mouth.
"'Course not," Shinjiro replied with a subtle selfsame smile. "I'm not Aki." He and Akihiko were in constant competition--who could eat the most takoyaki, who could hold out longest in a fistfight, who could go for the most consecutive floors in Tartarus. Akihiko had no stamina.
"I'm gonna tell him you said that," Minako teased.
"You'd better not," Shinjiro cautioned. "Behave or I'll make you regret it." He hoped he sounded playful, since he knew his gruff persona always made him seem far more aggressive than he actually was; besides, he'd never lay a malicious hand on Minako and with the way her lovely face beamed in response, she knew--
"Yes, Daddy." Minako stuck out her tongue at Shinjiro and that was enough to suck the stream of consciousness from Shinjiro's head.
Daddy. The word rattled around in his skull, bouncing from one ear to the next, mocking. The way she'd said it--airy, warm, wrapped by her soft-looking pink lips--sent an uninvited chill down his spine. Shinjiro didn't normally get flustered for any reason, but here he was, smile dropping and eyes widening. Tartarus was normally so cold, why was it so hot all of a sudden?
Minako appeared to notice how her response had affected him; her defiant tongue flagged a bit and retreated into her (small, pretty, Shinjiro really needed to stop thinking right now) mouth. Her eyebrows shot up, stare trained on him; Shinjiro felt like he was going to squirm under the intensity of it. Her mouth opened as she considered her next words, then closed, then opened again. The tense, awkward air between them was palpable and Shinjiro felt it wise to continue his trending of shutting the fuck up. He was certain his expression spoke for him.
"Senpai," she started. Shinjiro's neck was sweating. Could she really not address him in the same soft yet firm voice she'd literally just used to call him Daddy? "Did I--"
Mercifully, Minako's comm screeched, cutting her off. Heaving a sigh, Minako pressed the button on her badge and spoke into the receiver. "Go ahead, over."
"Arisato-san, I found the stairs to the next floor," Akihiko's voice bled through the static. "Koro-chan is here too. What should we do? Over."
"Let's move on," Minako replied. "Aragaki-senpai and I are en route to the staircase, standby. Over."
"10-4,” said Akihiko. "Over and out."
Shouldering her naginata, Minako's expression hardened once more as she approached Shinjiro, who felt as if he was about to sweat through his overcoat. She maneuvered around him, their arms brushing briefly.
"Follow me, I think I know where they are," Minako said without seeming to spare Shinjiro a glance. When Shinjiro turned to trail her, he found that she was indeed sparing him a glance--one filled with consideration and Shinjiro proceeded to wonder if there was any way the suppressants could kill him faster to put him out of his misery. She looked like there was something else she wanted to add, but she shook her head and looked away.
As it always was when they fought together, their journey to the staircase was in silence.
At first, Shinjiro dismissed his odd reaction as completely situational. For Christ's sake, he was a red-blooded straight man in the thick of coming down from the adrenaline high of combat, of course he'd get flustered if a cute girl with nice legs called him "Daddy." It was completely logical. He knew any other guy in SEES--or, hell, Gekkokan High--would pop a blood vessel in their eye if Arisato Minako called them a dirty pet name out of left field.
Shinjiro rationalized this to himself the next day as he stared in his dorm room mirror and monologued internally, as he usually did whenever he was in moral distress. He concluded that even if he was some freak with a daddy kink, the odds of Minako saying it again were next to none. She was their leader--sure, she was positively sanguine, but she also knew when to sober up and give direction to others when it was necessary. Arisato Minako was not the "giggle and call her boyfriend Daddy" type. It had been a joke on her end, nothing more, and she'd clearly acknowledged his reaction and would doubtfully say it again.
Later that night, Shinjiro agreed to make dinner for everybody in the dorm and as soon as he was done grilling the salmon filets, Minako was the first to pad into the kitchen eagerly from the lounge. Shinjiro pretended not to notice how appealing she looked in her oversized sweater as she breathed in deeply. Her hands, small but roughed from battle, were clasped in front of her.
"Ohmigosh, this smells amazing!" she exclaimed, ruby red eyes shining eagerly. "Can I eat now?"
Shinjiro clicked his tongue. "Patience," he said, lowering the heat. "The asparagus needs a few more minutes."
Minako pouted--only for a minute, though, before she broke into a wicked grin. "Okay, Daddy," she said. "I'll be a good girl and wait."
Shinjiro froze. He turned around to face her from where he stood in front of the stove, mouth agape. The salmon sizzled loudly in the pan in front of him, taunting. Minako had already grabbed a plate and was heaping some rice onto it, (what a bad girl-- Shinjiro shied away from finishing that thought straightaway). Noticing his shock, Minako gave him a subtle smirk and retreated into the lounge.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Shinjiro grunted and cradled his head in his hands. He noticed the tremor in his hands, his nerve alight from her remark, his original hypothesis up in smoke. Was she seriously still teasing him, after the way he'd reacted in Tartarus? There was no way she was being serious--she'd been grinning again, just like before.
Maybe it was another joke. A shitty joke, but a joke.
"I'll be a good girl and wait--"
"Aragaki-senpai, the asparagus is burning." Fuuka's voice emerged from the void, as if he were hearing her in Tartarus, except she had appeared at the kitchen counter with her brows knit in concern and Shinjiro smelled more than just his hypothesis in smoke.
He threw out his dignity along with the asparagus.
In the days that followed the only time Aragaki Shinjiro had burnt a dish, Minako seemed determined to do it again. At every turn, she seemed to find some way to slip in her newfound nickname for him into everyday encounters, dropping it with the casual lethality of an atom bomb.
Patching her up with medicine in Tartarus? "You're so sweet, Daddy." Scolding her for something? "Am I being a bad girl, Daddy?" Offering her a taste of whatever he was cooking? "Thank you, Daddy!" It was incessant, neverending, and each strategically placed Daddy and well-timed accompanying pout was shortening Shinjiro's life by at least five years.
If Minako was trying to break him with psychological warfare for some fucking reason, it was definitely working. Shinjiro had lost count of the number of times he'd had to subtly press the heel of his hand into his crotch to relieve the throbbing pressure there. All it took for Minako to walk into the room and spare him a passing glance and his dick hardened like Pavlovian clockwork. He absolutely hated that he was into this--that he was indeed the freak with the daddy kink--but he couldn't help it, not with it coming out of Arisato Minako's mouth. It didn't help, either, that he was allowing himself to indulge in thoughts of those dirty phrases that she'd now been saying so frequently coming out of her when she was a wet, moaning, naked mess on his bed. Every damn time the inkling crossed his mind, he instantly felt guilty.
Nevertheless, the teasing was getting to be too much, and Shinjiro knew that he was going to break eventually. He simply didn't expect the last straw to be in the middle of the goddamned day on a Sunday when he was supposed to be studying. He was hunched over the dining room table, his backlog of homework from all the classes he'd regrettably skipped scattered haphazardly over the surface, trying to focus when his major distraction sauntered in from the front door of the dorm, swearing smug smirk on her face and wearing that damn oversized sweater that haunted Shinjiro's dreams.
"Hey, Aragaki-senpai," Minako said, bending over to unzip her boots. Shinjiro frowned as he watched her turn with his back to him to do it--was that really necessary? In that miniskirt? Perfunctorily, Shinjiro ground the heel of his left hand into his dick as a warning to the erection forming there.
"Where were you?" Shinjiro asked without fanfare.
Kicking off her boots, Minako straightened her back and turned around again. "Hanging out with Hidetoshi-kun," she said. "Student council work."
Snorting, Shinjiro picked at the edge of his world history worksheet with his short fingernails. Sure, student council work. He'd seen that damn vice president Hidetoshi around--he was greasy and sniveling and looked at Minako with far too much longing whenever she greeted him in the hallway. Shinjiro wondered if Minako bent over to tie her boots in front of Hitedoshi, too.
Minako noticed his disdain; she cocked her head and smiled curiously. "Why?" she asked, the mirth in her words apparent. "You think I'm lying?"
"Nah, I believe you," Shinjiro said. "I just don't think Hitedoshi was looking to do only 'student council work' with you."
Minako hummed, the corners of her mouth tugging upward ever so slightly. Shinjiro felt as if she was slipping a proverbial noose around his neck with that smile. "You think so?" she said. "You may be right. Maybe I should ask him on a date. What do you think?"
A sharp jet of annoyance shot through Shinjiro's gut as she said that. She wasn't even being shy about baiting him anymore and Shinjiro was sick of not biting.
So he did.
"I think you're being a very bad girl by asking me that, princess." The words left Shinjiro's mouth before he could stop them, the first vestiges of his reciprocation. He watched Minako's expression shift to one of thinly veiled interest and--was that relief? Was it a trick of the light or were her pupils actually fattening?
"So?" she breathed, her words stepping on him with cautious confidence. "What are you gonna about it if I do ask him out?"
Shinjiro didn't remember what subject he was working on anymore and couldn't check anyway, because he was standing up and approaching Minako, hands in his pockets. As soon as he was a few steps from her, Minako began to back up until she was trapped between Shinjiro's looming figure and the front desk. She braced her hands behind her on its solitary surface, looking up at Shinjiro without a single shred of fear. Her breathing was heavy and Shinjiro could now confirm that the fattening of her pupils was not a trick of the light.
Shinjiro leaned in so that he was pressed flush against her, his mouth close to her ear. He removed his hands from his coat pockets and placed them on the desk next to hers, effectively cornering her. Minako made no move to shove him away to escape--on the contrary, she was pushing closer into him. Shinjiro licked his lips. She was so warm.
"If you ask Hidetoshi out," Shinjiro murmured, low and hot, directly into Minako's left ear, "Daddy will have to punish you."
With that, Shinjiro pulled back and stepped away, taking a moment to drink in the sight of Minako shivering, face as red as her hair, lips parted and breath shallow. Her gaze was wanton and her thighs were parted, as if inviting him to go further. He'd barely touched her and Minako looked utterly wrecked.
Only one thought emerged triumphant from the fog hanging over Shinjiro's brain, another hypothesis cremated: Arisato Minako was also a freak with a daddy kink.
"Yo!" The front door to the dorm blew open and Shinjiro felt relieved that he'd moved away from Minako. Junpei strolled in, a partially melted fudgsicle in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. To Shinjiro's amusement, Minako nearly jumped out of her skin at Junpei's arrival as she frenetically scrambled to smooth down errant red strands from her ponytail.
Junpei was none the wiser, his usual airhead smile plastered on his face as he wiped away droplets of melted fudge pop from his goatee with the grocery bag hand. "Senpai, Minako!" he said cheerfully, lifting up the bag. "I got fudgsicles at the store on my way home! You guys want one? You won't get another chance later, cause they'll all be gone!" Junpei wiggled his brows.
Shinjiro shrugged. "Thanks, Peipei, I'll take one," he said. Shinjiro accepted Junpei's offering as he produced a wrapped fudge pop from his plastic bag. Out of the corner of his eye, Shinjiro saw that Minako was still blushing.
"Man, Minako, you definitely need one!" Junpei exclaimed. "You're all red! Are you sick?"
"I'm fine," she said hastily. "Thanks for the offer, Junpei, but I, uh, have to write an, um, speech." Minako never stuttered like this. Shinjiro was practically preening. "Gotta get to work, but save one for me, 'kay?" She was skittering up the stairs before either of them could form a response.
"No guarantees!" Junpei managed to yell at her retreating form. He turned to Shinjiro, slurping sloppily at his fudge pop, now turning to a slushy mess on his hand. "Man, what's up with her?"
"Misbehavior," Shinjiro answered cryptically. He left Junpei to his confusion and returned to the dining room table to finish his homework.
He realized he'd indeed been working on world history.
Shinjiro decided to actually go school the next day, to Akihiko's perpetual shock. He'd dramatically grabbed his chest as Shinjiro meandered into their homeroom class, pantomiming a heart attack.
"Shinji Aragaki, not skipping class?!" he wheezed. "Someone get me a medic! I must be having a heart attack!"
"Shut up," Shinjiro mumbled, nonetheless flattered by Akihiko's acknowledgment. The majority of his classmates hardly recognized him--Mitsuru greeted him, of course--but Shinjiro didn't have any connection to anyone else that was in his classes.
Especially not Odagiri Hidetoshi, who was very much not a third-year student.
Shinjiro tried to ignore his presence in their classroom--yet because Mitsuru was the student council president, Hisetoshi was skulking around outside of the classroom, waiting to speak with her like Shinjiro's personal shinigami. After school, Hidetoshi boldly entered their third-year classroom in search of Mitsuru and presumably not to utterly torture Shinjiro to death.
"You looking for Mitsuru?" Akihiko asked, glancing up leisurely from his book. Shinjiro was trying to play it cool by killing time with Aki in their adjacent homeroom desks, as if Hidetoshi didn't exist and wasn't looking to excuse himself at her recourse. "She's picking up Takeba-san from archery practice."
Hitedoshi appeared desperate, glancing around frantically for Mitsuru. "Oh, yeah," he confirmed, thin voice on edge. "I, uh, have a previous engagement. We can't make it to student council today and I wanted to let the president know."
We. Shinjiro felt his hackles raise on the back of his neck.
"Sounds romantic," Akihiko teased. "Who's we? You and Chihiro?"
"You and Arisato Minako?" Shinjiro asked without embellishment, tone short. His voice was thick with scantly veiled rage. Judging by the way Hidetoshi straightened his posture, Shinjiro could tell he perceived it. His brusque question also didn't pass by Akihiko unnoticed as he cut Shinjiro a surprised sidelong glance.
Hidetoshi, all greased hair and nervous energy, somehow still brought himself to nod. "She asked me on a date today," he said, seemingly less meek as he presented it. "She said a senpai of hers helped her gain the confidence."
Shinjiro's countenance darkened as a scowl painted his face. "Huh. Isn't that something." Shinjiro's deadpan was more of a statement than a question. Understanding crossed Hidetoshi's face as he smiled wider and Shinjiro wanted to bash the hot air right out of his ugly face. Akihiko's eyebrows were practically beneath his bangs in shock.
"Sure is," Hidetoshi smugly agreed. "It was nice of her senpai to agree that she should pursue me. Don't you think?" His even stare leveled with Shinjiro's.
Before Shinjiro could leap across his desk and wring Hidetoshi's neck, Akihiko loudly cleared his throat. "We'll, er, notify Mitsuru," he cut in with a sharp warning glance to Shinjiro, as if cautioning him against summoning Castor to slice Hidetoshi in half. "Have a good date, Hidetoshi-san."
"Thanks, Sanada-senpai," Hidetoshi preened. Turning on his heel, he smirked back at Shinjiro before disappearing around the corner of their homeroom door.
Shinjiro seethed.
"So," Akihiko said after a short pause. "Why don't we go to Hakugare Ramen and you bring me up to speed about what the fuck just happened?"
In anticipation of the shock Akihiko would experience from Shinjiro's admission, Shinjiro bought Akihiko an extra bowl of ramen. As expected, Akihiko was stunned and only partially through sucking down the second when Shinjiro confessed.
"No way," Akihiko said, disbelief coloring his tone. "Shinji, you have a... daddy kink?"
"It was an accident!" Shinjiro immediately leapt to defending himself through a mouthful of pork belly. "Listen, man, you can't blame me. Minako called me Daddy after battle, for fuck's sake. Any man could develop a fetish from that."
"... I'm not that scandalized, Shinji," Akihiko admitted. He paused long enough to drain his cup of tea. "You're the nurturing type. I guess if anyone had to--"
"I swear to God, I will cleave you in half if you keep talking," Shinjiro growled.
Akihiko shrugged wordlessly and flagged down the waiter for another cup of tea, unbothered. "So you think her dating Hidetoshi is a scheme to make you jealous?" he asked. "Seems about right. She's made absolutely no moves towards him in public. Meanwhile, she's been salivating over you since day one."
Shinjiro nearly choked on his mouthful of pork belly. Goddammit, could he not just finish eating? "I beg your pardon?" he stammered.
Akihiko looked at Shinjiro like he had two heads. "Are you joking? Can you not see how obviously into you she is?" he asked incredulously. "She's always asking me 'where's Shinjiro-senpai?' whenever you're out. And she always makes a beeline to you when she needs homework help."
"That doesn't mean anything," Shinjiro retorted. "Those just sound like things people do when they have a close friend."
"Shinji, she's been calling you Daddy for the last fucking week," Akihiko snapped, "and you pinned her against the reception desk and she did absolutely nothing to get away from you. Are you dense? How many blows have you taken to the head from Shadows? She couldn't be more obvious if she sat on your lap."
Grunting, Shinjiro shook his head and flagged down a waiter for their check. "Whatever, she's just wasting her time with me anyhow," Shinjiro said. "She's just messing around with me. I'm not going to buy into it just to get my rocks off."
Akihiko snorted. "Yeah, okay," he snickered. "Daddy." His ensuing chuckle was louder than the first.
"Aki, have you ever considered shutting the fuck up--"
As if by happenstance, Shinjiro's phone chimed in his coat pocket, his text tone cutting through his biting remark. Confused, Shinjiro fished around for it--people seldom texted him these days, unless it was Fuuka with an update on Tartarus in the SEES group chat. He flipped open his phone and gave a cursory glance at the message.
And he gripped his phone so hard it nearly cracked.
Sitting there in his text inbox, plain as day, was a picture from Minako--a selfie, in fact, taken from one of the benches in front of the fountain in Palowtenia Mall. Minako was grinning and flashing the camera a peace sign. Hidetoshi was leaning in and planting a kiss on her cheek from her left. She'd attached a caption--cute, huh? ;)--and Shinjiro felt a blood vessel threaten to pop in his brain from rage.
"Christ, Shinji, don't keel over," Akihiko piped up, doing nothing to assuage Shinjiro's anger. Akihiko knew him well enough to detect irritation without Shinjiro having to utter a word. "Who texted you?"
Silently, Shinjiro turned the phone over for Akihiko to see. Akihiko's mouth twisted into a wry smile.
"So, what was that you were saying about not letting her get to you?" Akihiko said.
Shinjiro pocketed his phone and said nothing.
Shinjiro was still seething when Minako walked in the door later that evening. She made eye contact with him as she coyly unwrapped her scarf and draped it over one of the dining room tables.
"Hey, Aragaki-senpai," she said smoothly, all pomp and circumstance and she unbuttoned her white cashmere coat and tossed it over the same chair. Shinjiro was sitting in the lounge, seething, desperately attempting to mind his own business until she walked in, acting like she had everything in the world to be proud of.
As Shinjrio watched her preen and adjust the collar of her sweater, he decided that he was indeed whipped and that he was going to utterly wreck her.
"Leader." His voice was terse, taut, sinew waiting to crack. "Glad you're back. You needed help with science, right?"
Junpei and Akihiko were hunched over physics homework, begrudging over vectors together when Akihiko lifted his head and displayed mild panic on his face at Shinjiro's statement. From the look in his eyes, he knew Minako had absolutely no need for homework help. Junpei, absorbed in his problem, did not notice Akihiko's alarm. Shinjiro didn't know why exactly he was setting the stage for this--Akihiko knew, Junpei was clueless, and everyone else in SEES was conspicuously absent from the lounge tonight. Shinjiro could've dragged Minako by the ponytail to his room and neither of them would've have said anything.
But as much as Minako toyed with him, Shinjiro respected her and wanted to show her kindness before he broke her. The glint in Minako's eyes said the same.
"You know it, senpai," she purred. "Where should we study?"
"Textbook's in my room," he replied. "Meet you in the second floor lounge?"
“Sure,” Minako said. And, like the succubus that she was, she followed up with a beckoning wink before disappearing up the spiral staircase. Shinjiro’s fist was so tight that he was practically white-knuckled. Before trailing after her, Shinjiro paused at the base of the stairs and gave a cursory glance back at Akihiko, whose brows were knotted in judgment. Shinjiro made a show of rolling his eyes before ascending the stairs.
As promised, Minako was lounging on the couch in front of the vending machines in the second floor lounge, legs crossed and left arm slung casually over the back cushions. Her entire demeanor was smug and it pissed Shinjiro off. Well, and made him hard as a fucking rock, but it also pissed him off.
"Safe word," Shinjiro instructed without fanfare as soon as he entered the lounge, eyes trained on her.
Minako chuckled darkly, raising her arm and leaning her face on her hand, gazing at Shinjiro with a welcoming glint. “Wow, right away? No discussion?” she said.
“Safe. Word,” Shinjiro repeated, firmer and more stilted this time.
“Yabbashah,” Minako murmured throatily, a tone that Shinjiro doubted anybody ever used to discuss a block of Tartarus.
“And if your mouth is busy,” Shinjiro continued, “three taps of your hand against me and I stop. Got it?”
At the implication of his statement, Minako squirmed, almost imperceptibly. Nevertheless distracted, she managed a nod of assent.
Shinjiro jerked his head towards his room. “Come with me,” he told Minako.
Minako pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Make me,” she challenged, expression fogged with lust.
A growl thundered at the base of Shinjiro’s throat as he advanced on Minako, casting a shadow on her small form. Shinjiro knew he cut an imposing figure—he was taller than average, always hunched over with his beanie pulled over his brows with a scowl, fists in the pockets of his red trenchcoat.
But, even though she was half his size and practically underneath him, Minako did not regard him with fear. Instead, her eyes were blazing with lust just as they had been in the lounge yesterday, and any anxiety Shinjiro had that he was pushing her into this evaporated in an instant.
Threading his fingers through Minako’s curly ponytail, he yanked and Minako stumbled awkwardly to her feet, letting out a surprised gasp. “I’ll make you do whatever I want you to do,” Shinjiro rumbled lowly. “Now are you going to come with me or am I going to have to drag you to my room by your hair?”
“No, Daddy,” Minako breathed. Her irises were thin red rings around her pupils, fat with interest. “I’ll come.”
Shinjiro’s dick twitched at the implication of her response; fuck, he was so into this, his brain was running a mile a minute thinking of things he could do to Minako. A filthy part of him didn’t even want to wait to make it to his room—maybe he could just fold her over the couch and fuck her into a sobbing, obedient mess. Junpei and Akihiko were downstairs, nobody else was home, why was he seriously considering this—
Luckily for Shinjiro, his legs worked faster than his brain and he and Minako were able to get to his room before he made a fool out of the two of them. But as soon as the door closed and latched shut behind them and Minako peered at him over her shoulder expectantly with an underlying note of mischief, Shinjiro’s dick immediately began thinking for him again.
He pointed at Minako’s houndstooth skirt, way too fucking short just like everything else she owned. “Off,” he commanded. “Just your panties, keep the skirt on.”
Amazingly, Minako did as she was told, still gnawing on her lip all the while—she slid her fingers beneath her skirt and peeled off her underwear, the garment hitting the hardwood floor at her feet. Shinjiro noted that her panties were pink with little strawberries on them. Cute. Very Minako.
Shinjiro decided to work her up a bit more. “You wear those for Hidetoshi?” he asked point-blank.
With a playful smirk, Minako shook her head. “No, Daddy,” she said. “For you.”
Shinjiro nearly groaned. He was in dire straits of coming in his pants like a fucking geed. He gestured toward his desk up against the north wall of his bedroom. “Lift your skirt and bend over,” he said, trying not to let his voice betray how turned on he was.
With a sensual swing in her hips, Minako turned and approached the desk; as she walked, she made a show of pulling the hem of her skirt over her ass and bunching it up around her waist. Arching her back like a cat, Minako leaned her upper body over the surface of the desk, spreading her legs apart and bracing her hands on the furthest edge of the table. Coyly, she glanced over her shoulder again and winked at Shinjiro.
The leader of the SEES, Arisato Minako, Shinjiro’s underclassman, was bent over his desk with her ass in the air and she had the audacity to wink at him.
Shinjiro was about to have an anyuerism.
Walking up behind her, Shinjiro placed his hand on the small of her back, right above her plump, well-shaped and well-toned ass. His only remaining brain cell registered how soft and pleasant her skin was to touch. “So, Princess,” he said as he slid his hand over her right cheek. “What do you have to say for yourself? Going out with another man? Sending me pictures of you two together? That’s very underhanded of you.” He pinched her ass and Minako whimpered lightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Minako said, her voice wavering, her confident veneer beginning to crack. “I was just hanging out with Hidetoshi-kun.”
“Really?” Shinjiro snorted. “Don’t play dumb. He was kissing you on the cheek in that picture. And you know just how badly he wants you—it’s all over his face.” Shinjiro’s hand ventured over to her left cheek, running his fingers along the flesh there as Minako shivered. Shinjiro felt goosebumps forming beneath the pads of his fingertips.
“He leers at you in the hallway like you’re a slab of meat,” Shinjiro continued, gripping and fondling Minako’s ass as she squirmed. “Follows you around like a damned lovesick fool, hoping you’ll notice him and let him see you in those cute strawberry panties.” His hand slid down between her legs and he pressed into the folds of her pussy. She was nearly dripping wet. “Maybe even get the chance to fuck you. I’m sure that would make him very happy.”
Minako’s breathing was ragged now as she pushed her hips back against his finger in vain. “That’s not true,” she mumbled. “I promise, Daddy, it’s not true.”
“Too bad he won’t, because you belong to me,” Shinjiro said sharply, finger encircling her clit, never quite touching it. Minako’s face hit the desk and she whined, the sound muffled by the wood. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, princess. You tried so hard to make me jealous.” He clicked his tongue disdainfully. “Guess I need to remind you of that.”
Shinjiro removed his hand from her pussy and brought his palm down hard on Minako’s ass. The slap echoed throughout his room and Minako shrieked, head jerking up in shock.
“Quiet down, doll,” Shinjiro hissed. “You want the whole dorm crashing through my door?”
“Shinjiiii,” Minako cried, shaking her ass. Shinjiro couldn’t help but admire the angry red handprint now forming on her right asscheek.
Shinjiro grabbed her by the ponytail once more and shoved his hips against her ass, hoping that she could feel his erection through his dark jeans. From the way Minako sighed and grinded against him, he figured she could. “That’s not what you call me,” Shinjiro snapped. “Try again.”
“Daddy,” Minako whined, louder still. The rebellious edge in her voice never diminished, despite Shinjiro’s warning slap.
With that, the last of Shinjiro’s resolve shattered into pieces as he scooped Minako’s dainty cherries-and-cream panties off the ground, balled them into his fist, and shoved them into Minako’s slightly ajar mouth.
The resulting whimper from the base of Minako’s throat set Shinjiro’s veins on fire. A shudder of arousal ripped through him as she flicked her gaze up at him beneath her bangs, red irises rimming her fattened pupils like a sultry suggestion. Shinjiro felt that he’d been around the block a bit in comparison to others his age—he’d seen more than a few high-class escorts near Port Island Station and even had a handful of encounters with them here and there on lonely nights. He hadn’t hated those experiences, sparse as they were.
Now, every encounter paled in comparison to seeing Arisato Minako spread out on his desk, skirt bunched up around her waist, his hand fisted in her hair and her gaze wanton as she drooled around a mouthful of her own panties.
Shinjiro felt every ounce of control he’d ever had in his life seep out of him as the urge to have her, take her, claim her, right this fucking minute replaced them. He choked out a quick, halfhearted “sorry, doll” before fisting through the notches on his belt, pulling out his cock—achingly hard and practically dripping with need—and sheathing himself inside her in one fell thrust.
For a moment, Shinjiro expected a strained, muffled “Yabbashah” or the telltale three taps they’d agreed on, but Minako made absolutely no motion to put a stop to him. In fact, her tells showed the opposite—she rocked her hips back against him and let loose a high-pitched whine barely concealed by the delicate fabric of her panties. He felt her hips give a stilted thrust in return, as if pushing against him, urging him to continue.
Shinjiro was a weak man. He started thrusting.
Each movement of their bodies punched out bites of sound from deep within Minako’s chest as Shinjiro watched her bury her face against the surface of his desk. Her grip was white knuckled on the splintered edges. Her heat was tight and impossibly wet. Shinjiro was mad.
Seemingly far too soon, Minako arched her back so far that she was nearly flush against Shinjiro’s chest and Shinjiro felt the distinct sensation of her coming completely apart on his cock—her hole pulsating around her like a vice grip and the shuddering sob she emitted was the nail in the coffin.
Shinjiro realized foggily that he must have gotten off on the foreplay—the anticipation—more than he’d known because Minako’s orgasm tore into him and ripped his own out from the base of his shaft. Before he could stop himself, get a damn handle on his reaction—he was painting her walls with his come as if he were an oversensitive virgin.
“Fuck,” Shinjiro said immediately as he pulled out. “Shit.”
Minako spit out her panties on the desk and turned her gaze back to him. There was a devious twinkle in her eyes. “Was it too much for you, Shinjiro-senpai?” she giggled.
“I promise it usually doesn’t happen that fast,” Shinjiro promised (he hoped, because Minako’s daddy kink might make him pop off in seconds from here on out and that was maybe an empty promise).
Playfully, Minako stretched, her form catlike as she straightened her spine and stood up straight again. “I don’t mind,” she beamed at him as she adjusted her skirt. She made no move to reach for her panties. “It’s flattering, Daddy.”
The weak twitch of interest in Shinjiro’s overstimulated cock at Minako’s words felt like a death rattle. “Give me a break, will ya?” he grumbled. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Minako did not respond—instead, she grinned and sauntered over to the door. Distinctly, Shinjiro saw a bead of his seed roll down her inner thigh, trickling like liquid starlight in the harsh gleam of the overhead lights in his bedroom. For a moment, Shinjiro wondered if the suppressants were getting to him and it was him who had the panties in his mouth.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Shinjiro said, motioning toward the panties on the desk.
Minako turned back to look at him, one hand on the doorjamb, almost an afterthought. “I know,” she said impishly. “I don’t have time to put them back on. I have to go to a meeting.”
Shinjiro decided to ignore the fact that he knew it took half a goddamned second to put some underwear on. “What meeting?” he asked.
“Going over some new school policies with Hidetoshi-kun,” Minako said as if she were going to the fucking corner store.
Just as Shinjiro was opening his mouth to respond, Minako gave him a coy wink and disappeared from Shinjiro’s bedroom and left him with his cock in his hand like an idiot.
“… Son of a—”