Love/Hate (Lemon GarouxReader 🍋)

Intermission - Making It Rain

With a crisis safely averted, the last days of the summer break pass more or less peacefully and uneventfully, which, after everything that's happened, is a welcome change.
You've made plans to spend the Sunday before school starts hanging out with Tsukiko, but today is Saturday and she's out with Bad. With your evening free you decide to go for a stroll, enjoying the slightly cooler temperature. You don't really plan on going anywhere in particular but eventually - look at that! - you've ended up right in front of Garou's building. How unexpected, you think innocently, not fooling anyone but yourself.
Well, since you're here, you might as well say hello...it would be rude not to, wouldn't it, you rationalise as you watch the little numbered buttons light up one by one as the elevator takes you slowly up to the ninth, top, floor. And you'd hate to be rude. It's just not you. It's the last thing you'd want to be.
You stand in front of his door, your hand on the doorhandle, about to push down when it swings open, almost violently, giving you a small fright as you quickly pull your hand back. He'd heard you coming.
He stands in the doorway, all white t-shirt and lean muscle, grinning wickedly at you.
"Just can't stay away, eh?" he raises an eyebrow, leaning a forearm on the door.
You huff a little, his cocky arrogance still catching you off guard occasionally, but truth be told, if you hadn't been here in the next fifteen minutes he was all ready to come to you, your short absence already driving him a bit wild.
"Yes, I can," you narrow your eyes up at him, stiffening your shoulders a little as you turn on your heel, your back to him, ready to walk away, full of annoyance.
But oh no you don't! Get back here, girl.
He won't let you take a single step further, grabbing your wrist and playfully pulling you back right through the doorway, shutting the door and trapping you against it, his mouth hurriedly on your neck, warm impatient kisses, hands around your waist, pressing you closer to him.
Your annoyance begrudgingly starts to melt away as you run your own hands up and down his back, sinking into his arms. For the life of you, you can't stay mad at him, no matter how hard you try, especially not when he kisses you like that...heady and insatiable, the heat between your bodies expanding, enveloping you.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he says when you have to pull away from him to breathe, both of your chests starting to heave. He teases but at the same time cannot hide his own wild hunger for you right now.
"Oh, I don't know," you say, almost offhandedly, bored, tapping your finger lightly against the tip of his nose, his face so close to yours. "I was just in the neighbourhood and thought we could have a little playdate."
"Is that what the kids call it these days?" he gives you a suggestive smirk but the smile that plays at the corners of his mouth is undeniably affectionate.
"Don't know what you're talking about," you bat your eyelashes at him almost virginally as you encircle your arms around his neck and before you know it, your feet leave the ground as he picks you up and you have no choice but to be carried all the way to bed. The best playground of them all.

It's almost midnight as you sit on his couch, comfortably curled up in the corner, happy and content, the playdate a real success, wearing nothing but his white t-shirt, texting Tsukiko who's spilling all the tea about her date as Garou channel surfs, bored and unimpressed with everything he sees.
He lounges back on the other side of the couch in a way that only extreme, confident male pride will allow, the king of his castle, his queen fully satisfied, wearing nothing but his pants since you've stolen his shirt. And he has to admit, it does look good on you.
You're not even half paying attention to what comes up on the television screen as he scrolls through the channels one by one, too interested in Tsukiko's news, but suddenly a familiar song makes you pause, your ears pricked up.
"Leave it," you say, looking up for a moment, the music video you've seen a million times before and still like, flashing across the screen.
"Why?" he asks, not nearly as impressed with what he's seeing as you are.
"I like this song," you almost chirp, singing along under your breath as you dance a little in your cozy corner of the couch as your fingers fly over the little keyboard in reply to Tsukiko's text.
Ah fuck, you're damn cute. Ok. For you, he'll keep this song on. But only because you want it. Not because he likes it or anything.
"You like this song, eh?" he repeats.
"Yeah," you say, your attention still on your phone.
"Why?" he says, watching the band and the strobe lights and whatnot.
You look at the television a little too long and then at him.
"The singer's really hot," you say, full of mischief, wanting to push his buttons a little. But to your surprise he remains seemingly indifferent, examining the leader of the band.
"Alright then," he says. "I'll do my hair like that too," he runs his hand through his silver mane.
You're dumbfounded for a moment.
"You're going to get a mohawk?" you ask, not buying it for a second.
"Yeah," he nods, full of determination. "You reckon it's hot."
You roll your eyes a little.
"Yeah, it's hot on him," you jerk your head in the direction of the television. "You'll just look like a moron."
"You sure? It might look fuckin' cool. Won't know till I do it," he says.
"Trust me, I know," you state. When he doesn't reply, you sigh. "Fine. Do whatever you want. But I won't have sex with you ever again."
"Well, that's just a sacrifice I'll just have to make then," he grins back at you.
"If it's that important to you," you say, taunting, a little condescending before going back to your phone.
And then you give him a little shove with your foot. "I like your hair the way it is," you say, completely honestly, eyes fixed on Tsukiko's text.
Your candid words take him by surprise, and if you'd been looking up, you would've caught him smiling to himself, just for a moment, just a fraction of a moment. It's a small confession, trivial really, not like you meant anything by it he thinks...but it feels nice nonetheless. Like a small, warm light passing through.
You spend a few more minutes in comfortable silence as he switches from channel to channel as you engross yourself in your girl talk with your best friend.
And then:
"AHH!!! OHHH!! YESSS!!! AHH!! FUCK ME HARD!! OHH FUCK MEEE!! FUCK ME WITH THAT HUGE HARD COCK!! YESS!!! YES! AHHHHH!!!" the tv screams.
"Trust you to find the porn," you say, without even looking up at him.
"What d'you mean?" he says, terribly offended. "I was just innocently browsing, mindin' my own business when-"
"She's faking it," you glance up at the screen, catching the two actors contorted into a terribly uncomfortable looking position, before going back to your phone.
He's about to say something but stops, looking intently between you and the cliche porn scene playing out.
"How do you know?" he asks suspiciously.
"Oh please," you click your tongue. "No one screeches like that when they cum. It's like a cross between nails on a chalkboard and a stuck pig."
Hmm, you may have a point. Your sensuous moans are infinitely more of a turn on. He runs through his memories of your 'playdates'. The way your body moves and feels, the gorgeous sounds you make when he's pleasing you...it's not really even comparable.
"She's definitely faking it," you reiterate as you start to type another reply to Tsukiko.
"But really," he drawls, "you wouldn't know anything about that."
You stop in your tracks, your thumbs hovering over the light of your smartphone screen, and look straight up at him, watching as the most smug, obscene grin spreads across his face.
"Bold," you say very matter-of-factly, almost a little impressed at his arrogance as you fix him with a serious stare. "Bold of you to assume I've never faked an orgasm for you."
If we're honest, you never have. But this opportunity to bewilder him is just too good to pass up.
You watch that grin disappear as fast as it appeared, replaced with total displeasure, frustration.
"Anyway, change the channel. This is boring," you lean over and pluck the remote out of his hand and press a random button, ending up on the weather channel. Whatever, that will do. Better than the awful, badly acted (if we can even call that acting) late night porn.
You go back to your message, continuing to type, not paying Garou any attention anymore, not noticing the growing, fiery determination in his eyes.
You're about the hit 'Send' when he all but pounces at you, your phone slipping out of your hand and onto the floor as you give a squeal of surprise as you're pulled a little further down the couch as he gets in between your legs, his eyes glowing dangerously.
Oh you've done it now. Pushed a real hot button.
"What-?" You're about to formulate some sort of question when your (or rather his) t-shirt is carefully but forcefully pulled up, revealing your naked body and he's on top of you, his mouth on yours, passionately silencing you, ready and willing to prove a very important point. And, despite a very lengthy and perfect playdate an hour or so ago, you find your body responding to him, his intensity, beginning to crave him all over again, still a little wet from before and growing more so with every moment.
He moves down from your mouth to your neck, running his tongue along your throat, savouring the taste of your skin.
He needs to see it now. To feel it. To hear it. All over again. To witness all your pleasure for himself. He's convinced you're lying. Just having a good dig at him. But you've incited something in him now. And he needs to know, once and for all.
The t-shirt gathered just below your neck, he kisses down your body, that delicate space between your breasts, before turning to one of your nipples, a wolfish glint in his eyes as he places one strong hand on the arm rest above your head for support before heading down. You feel his unhurried, confident tongue now against the excited hardness of your nipple, making you squeeze your thighs together as you feel a little warm jolt in your pussy.
Fuck. You always taste so good. It's like the more he has of you, the more he wants.
His free hand reaches for your other breast, giving it a soft squeeze before his fingers brush over your nipple, just as excited as the one that's now in his mouth.
You bite your bottom lip hard, determined to not make a sound, to taunt, to torment his ego right to the end but your hips rock, press a little harder into the couch, your body beginning to betray you, your eyes squeeze shut as you feel the lust, the arousal spread quickly through your naked body underneath him, warm and sensual.
He lifts his head, looking at your flushed face, your hands by your cheeks, curled into amorous little fists, like you always do when you're so turned on.
"If I ain't mistaken," he says with a self-assured, fanged grin, giving your nipple a light squeeze, "I'd say you're really liking this."
"You're mistaken," you manage to suppress a gasp and get the words out as your heartbeat quickens.
"Really?" he says with mock puzzlement. "What about this?" he asks as he reaches down between your legs, his fingers gently spreading your wetness across your soft, open pussy before you feel his hand on you, his thumb rubbing your clit, watching you.
You shake your head because that's all you can do at this point. Opening your mouth would be much too dangerous.
Alright then...have your pretty little lies. Your body tells him everything he needs to know as he goes back to your nipple, sucking it lightly while he plays with your clit.
Your pussy already feels so sensitive, your clit tender and aching so good from when he made you cum just earlier and now he drives you completely crazy with his touch, sometimes slow, tormenting, barely there and sometimes faster, right on your most sensitive spot, pressing against your hot, slippery skin, making you feel you're on the verge of an intense orgasm before pulling back, not letting you cum yet.
You twist your hair in one of your hands, your legs quivering, thighs tightening helplessly around his hand.
He can feel it, the beautiful tension of your body, driven wild by him, your desperate desire for more of him. It's mesmerising. It's impossible how irresistible you are...
He can't wait any longer. You're already soaking wet for him, naked, beautifully exposed body on complete edge, needing him.
You feel him pull out his hand from between your legs and are about to complain, completely forgetting your resolve, when you notice his strong, careful grip on your ankles, your legs impatiently arranged on his broad shoulders a moment before you feel him hard inside you.
You wrap your hands around his lean, strong arms, watching him hold himself above you, feeling him thrust deep into your wanting, warm, slippery pussy.
Oh yes. Ohhh yes...How does it always feel so good? So delicious...So ridiculously amazing... You find it hard to look at his beautiful yellow eyes, his gaze much too intense as he watches you, your gorgeous face, as he enters you over and over, wanting to see your every reaction, to read every expression, to know your desire, to feel you in the midst of your pleasure, your impending orgasm.
You can't even anymore.
"Garou!" you pant, holding on tighter to his arms, your legs still on his shoulders as he fucks you exactly how you love. And in this position you get such a wonderful feel of him, the hot friction of his hard cock against all your most sensitive places...it's almost dizzying. "Mmmm...Garou...yes!...Oh! Right there! Don't stop!" your words are so seductively breathless.
You pull your hands away from his arms and place them around his handsome face, pulling his head down, kissing him deeply, feverishly, helplessly as he pushes himself inside you deeper, harder.
He can't help it. When you get like this...when you pull him closer on top of you, both of you hot and naked and almost out of your minds with this fucking frenzied lust he can't stop himself. And you love it, urging him on with your moans, your tongue flicking over his...
Your body feels hot and wild, there's no doubt this orgasm is coming and coming fast, even better than the previous one, if that's even possible.
You throw your head back as you feel it surging through your body hard and fast and sensual.
"Ah! Garou! Ohh..." the moans oscillate to whimpers and back to moans as you start to cum, your pussy tensing around him as he continues to thrust into you, your cheeks a beautiful crimson as you hold onto him tightly.
"Ah! Fuck! Garou! Oh!...Oh...Mmm..."
"Are you fakin' it?" his voice low, groaning between his heavy breaths.
"Yes!"
"Are you lying?"
"Yes...!!"
"Are you even listenin' to me?"
"Garou...! Oh! Garou!"
Apparently not.
Well, fuck...he knew he was good but this is the best fucking response. The way you're practically trembling, arching your back, pressing yourself closer to him, the dazed, helpless yet completely fulfilled look on your face...It never ceases to amaze him how exquisite you are. Your body, your desire, your total lack of inhibition, just you...a perfect match for him. How the two of you seem to understand each other without really saying anything...
And suddenly you're kissing him again, needing to taste, to feel more, needing to feel him while you cum. And the way you kiss...fuck!
You feel him groan, heavy and loud, right onto your tongue, his strong hands digging into the old, worn cushions of the couch under you, his hips push hard against you as you feel him cum deep inside you, letting you have this wonderful pleasure for the second time tonight.
You run your hands over his face and he turns and kisses one of your pretty ankles, his lips lingering, before letting one of your legs down carefully, admiring your flushed nakedness in the electric light of the television.
"...expect heavy showers until at least lunchtime tomorrow if you're in City..." the presenter informs you, the meteorological map behind him.
"Oh...no..." you sigh as you turn your face to the screen, watching all those weather symbols move around the two dimensional terrain of your town. "We're going out tomorrow..." You murmur to yourself.
"So?" Garou shrugs as you turn back to him.
"What do you mean 'So?'?" you look at him confused.
"You should be used to getting wet by now," he grins, his eyes alight, all confidence now securely restored.
You let that joke sink in for a moment before your fists fly at him, hitting him over and over.
"You little...!" you snap. "I hate you," you attempt a scowl as you continue to smack at his rock hard chest as he laughs affectionately at your temper.
"I know," he says with that stunning smile, taking your hands in his, "I know," he repeats before gathering you up, enveloping you tight in his arms and you find yourself covered in kiss after kiss as you curl right up against him. Absolutely wet and loving it.

1 New Message
Tsukiko: you sure are typing for ages...are you writing me a novel? Or are you...😏😏
You: No...! 😳 was just watching the weather. Sorry. It's gonna rain tomorrow. Bring a jacket. Otherwise it'll get really wet. 🌧️☔
Tsukiko: I'm sure it already has.💦💦
You: I can neither confirm nor deny this statement.
Tsukiko: I'll take that as a yes.👀👀
You: 😐...I can neither confirm nor deny this statement.