One Cold Night in Ikebukuro
Summary. De-anon from the LJ Kink Meme. Prompt: "Izaya stops in for a drink and comes face to face with a very alluring bartender-ess." Izaya/fem!Shizuo.
Rating. M
Disclaimer. Drrr! is not mine.
Warnings. Genderbender with fem!Shizuo, het sex.
A/N. another old fic from the kink meme i've unearthed. there should just be one more after this. also, i re-read, but there are probably still mistakes.
Izaya stepped into the bar, smirk set in place and pocket heavy with the bills he'd just collected from his high-paying clients. Ah, yes, life was good when you were Izaya Orihara.
Life was even better tonight, it seemed, as Izaya caught sight of the female blonde bartender behind the counter. Glancing around the establishment, he was pleased to note the lack of patrons tonight. There seemed to be someone (or something) in one of the shady corners, but other than that, the place was empty.
Good, that meant he could do his…wooing, in peace.
Licking his lips in anticipation, Izaya strode forward confidently, seating himself in one of the stools. The blonde seemed to be unaware of his presence however, as she continued cleaning one of the glasses thoroughly, dainty hands with manicured fingernails (how'd she pay for that, Izaya wondered) carefully holding up the cup so she could examine it one last night.
He coughed pointedly, attempting to gain her attention. Apparently surprised, the woman turned around briefly, sizing him up, before returning to her polishing, gruffly commenting,
"Bar's closed,"
Izaya pouted. Then smirked, "You still seem to have a patron however, and I'm sure your boss could do with some extra cash,"
Well, that definitely caught her attention. She set the glass down harshly, before turning to him, eyes flashing and repeating through gritted teeth,
"Bar. Is. Closed,"
Izaya outwardly frowned, but inside cheered as he now had her undivided attention. Upon closer inspection, she turned out to be quite a catch. Although her hair was a bit short for his liking, just reaching her shoulders with a small flip outwards at the tips, and she was taller and more… voluptuous than his usual partners, Izaya liked what he saw. He licked his lips while she continued glaring at him, and that seemed to have made her realize that he what he was after wasn't a cocktail, because she blushed slightly. She continued glaring however, harsher than before.
"If you don't leave, I'm going to forcefully remove you," she threatened, hands on her hips.
Izaya leaned forward, making to attempt to hide his leer, and licked his lips once more, "I can do rough,"
The blonde's eyes narrowed, as she grabbed Izaya's collar and pulled her fist back as if to punch him, when a noise from the back of the room startled both of them. Up until that moment, they had completely forgotten about the existence of a third party. The man in question stood up, nodded briefly at the female bartender, and then stumbled out.
Red and brown eyes blinked, before the woman let go of the informant's shirt and headed to the door, closing it behind the man as he left. Then, she slowly turned to the room's other occupant, shit-eating grin set in place.
"Now, where was I?" as she ominously cracked her knuckles, Izaya blinked in surprise once more. What was she doing?
He got his answer soon enough, as she picked up a nearby table as if it weighed no more than a feather, and then hurled it his way. He was able to dodge just in time, but it still shocked him. There was someone like this in Ikebukuro that he didn't know about?
Once more, he turned his red gaze to the blonde, who seemed to be pouting at her miss. Izaya licked his lips once more. Well, he certainly knew about her now.
"Now look here, miss, there is no need to resort to violence," he attempted, opening his arms in feigned innocence.
The woman seemed to notice his lie, as she raised an eyebrow. Izaya was soon dodging a chair. Well, he certainly wasn't making much progress, but he intended to remedy that. As her assault continued, and he continued to dodge the various projectiles she threw at him (or cutting them up with his switchblade if he was able to), he steadily made his way closer to her.
"Why won't you die already, you flea?"
"Aww, you've got a pet name for me already! Darling, that's so nice!"
"Argh!"
But while Izaya would have had no problem continuing in such a fashion (the blonde was cute when riled up), he had other plans on his agenda tonight, so after dodging the latest piece of furniture thrown his way, he dove forward. Catching the bartender's waist, he successfully sent them both skidding to the ground. Before she could protest (or punch him, which Izaya thought was much more likely), he had already pulled her into a deep kiss.
Her eyes widened briefly, before anger reflected in them once more. As the man plundered her mouth with his tongue, she bit it. In slight pain, Izaya flinched, and she took the opportunity to kick him. Once he flew off, they both stilled, as the dust that had picked up from the bar's destruction slowly came back to the ground, and their panting ceased.
Izaya nursed his wounds, metallic taste invading his mouth, but he had no intentions of giving up. Her obvious disdain only made him want her more. He groaned lightly as he got on his knees, happy when she remained down, still attempting to ease her breathing.
"Y'know something darling? We've been getting all cozy and whatnot, but I've still to catch your name," he tried.
"Screw you,"
Izaya grinned.
"I'd much rather screw you, darling," and before she had a chance to react, Izaya was on her again.
This time, his kiss was much more demanding, and left no room for discussion. He held her chin forcefully with one hand, while his other hand had both of hers pinned over her head. She fidgeted and kicked, and it was no easy battle, but Izaya finally managed to subdue her. Or at least, he thought he did.
Carefully, he released her lips, a stream of saliva still connecting them, and took in the sight before him, moving quietly as if not to upset a wild animal. Her eyes were closed, and cheeks a rosy red, as small puffs of air came from her lips. Izaya grinned slightly at her seeming compliance, before her eyes snapped open and she lunged.
The red-eyed man was thrown onto the bar counter, breaking more than one glass as he skidded down, before coming to a halt. He groaned again, raising his head only to see a certain female blonde bartender sensually crawling over to him through the pieces of glass. Izaya groaned again. If he'd been hard before, during the fight, it was nothing compared to what he was like now.
Soon, she was straddling him, a certain smugness clearly written on her features. She bent down, and blew on his ear lightly, before roughly biting it. And Izaya moaned again. For some reason he could not fathom, this woman's forcefulness only served to increase his attraction to her.
She seemed to notice, if the slight chuckle that escaped her after palming him through his pants was any indication.
Soon, she had worked her way through his buckle and zipper, unfastening his pants with the ease of someone who'd done this before (and he didn't know how he felt about that). Izaya, for his part, had set his own hands to work, one of them pulling the end of her blouse from under the skirt, and then travelling up, up, up, to unfasten her bra clip. The other was quietly travelling up one of her thighs, and soon enough managed to get under the skirt.
Blondie, as Izaya had mentally dubbed her, bent forward once again, this time meeting his own lips in a searing kiss, as her hands suddenly stroked him while he pressed down on one of her hardened nipples.
Both of their moans were consumed in the kiss, effectively keeping them quiet, despite the fiery need that was now running through both of their veins. Izaya normally enjoyed foreplay -particularly if the woman's breasts were anything like his current companion's- but right now he needed release. And soon.
Withdrawing his hand from beneath her blouse, he joined both under her skirt, moving aside the dainty piece of material which kept him from her core, but not taking it off. With one hand, he held her panties aside, while the other busied itself playing just a bit. He pressed against her clit, even as he himself was panting hard with the kisses Blondie was showering on his neck and the unwavering rhythm of her hands on his cock. She stilled lightly when the first finger entered her, and Izaya thought he heard something like a mewl, but he soon forgot as the attack on his neck resumed, this time more vigourously. Her hips soon began to move, fucking herself on his fingers and thoroughly enjoying it, if her murmurs, pants and purrs against his neck were any indication.
Suddenly, the hands on his cock disappeared, and Izaya groaned in annoyance, until he felt the rivulets of the liquid falling on both him and his companion. Casting a glance upwards, he found Blondie's white blouse had become see-through (and, if possible, Izaya felt himself harden even more at her erect nipples), her hair slightly wet, and a bottle of what seemed to be vodka held high above her head. With a naughty grin, her hips stilled as she playfully engulfed the top of the bottle with her mouth, and gulped. Izaya was now the hardest he'd ever been. Having had enough of playing, he pulled her down on him roughly, the alcohol falling everywhere as she lost her balance. Izaya thought he heard the telltale sound of broken glass, but by then he didn't care anymore. Blondie chuckled slightly against his ear before finally, finally descending on his weeping manhood in one. smooth. thrust.
They both stilled - Blondie taking deep breaths and Izaya far too engrossed in the pleasure he was finally receiving to begin to move. But then, then they moved, in unison, filling the empty, destroyed bar with pants, and moans, and "more"s, and "yeah right there"s, and not stopping, never stopping, because this felt too good, this heat that enveloped him and was just so tight and perfect and Izaya was seeing colors and stars were there were none and he just held on so he could keep seeing them and-
With a low groan, Izaya thrust one final time, his vision swimming in white, vaguely aware of the fact that his partner had folded herself on top of him so their panting chests met. Too tired to care, he allowed whoever he was with to detach herself from him, and he leaned back on what he remember was the bar counter, surrounded by broken glass and liquids that he supposed were alcohol but were also something else, and simply gave himself over to sleep.
-o-
The next morning, he was roughly awakened to three or four burly men in suits and a man whom he assumed was the owner of the establishment. Needless to say, they did not look happy. Looking around, he realized he was alone in an empty and destroyed bar, sleeping on the counter and too exposed for comfort. He had no idea where Blondie was. Or who she was.
But he'd find out. Even as the first fist met his face, his psychotic smile remained. Oh, he would definitely find out.
A/N. again, comments on the sex scene appreciated. -still a novice-
