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lysapadinTitle: Stick Some Gears on It (and call it steampunk)
Characters/Pairings: Midorima/Takao
Summary: This is a good look for Takao.
Notes: Porn Battle fill for steampunk, genderswap, crossdressing, and stockings. From the Rule 63 'verse. 1729 words, adult for smut!
~~~~~~~~~~
Stick Some Gears on It (and call it steampunk)
"Okay, Shin-chan, you know I love you, but I draw the line at bustles, okay?" Takao had said, and no amount of wheedling or expostulating on Midorima's part had been able to budge her on that point. Takao flatly refused to be cajoled into wearing a bustle or even a corset no matter how willing she was to cosplay with Midorima otherwise. Appeals based on the veracity of the thing were no good; appeals to vanity were even less so, because Takao had just laughed when Midorima had suggested that the corset might flatter her figure. "What figure?" she asked, derisive for no good reason that Midorima could see—Takao had a perfectly nice figure, sleek and compact, with just the right amount of curves over her muscles.
Takao was very strange sometimes.
In the end, they had to compromise somewhere between Midorima's need for authenticity and Takao's disdain for the finer points of Victorian ladies' dress. There was nothing for it but to put Takao into trousers instead of a dress—trousers and the braces to hold them up with, even though Takao had just enough in the way of hips to render the latter unnecessary. But successful cosplay was as much about the visual effect as it was authenticity.
"Whatever you say, Shin-chan," Takao told her, clearly amused, and held still while Midorima paced around her, examining the fit of the trousers and the shirt, both of which were rather ordinary. Takao had listened to Midorima's proposal that she adopt a gentleman adventurer's persona and wrinkled her nose before countering with the suggested that she be an engineer instead. The shirt was soft and worn and the trousers were artfully stained with grease in places. The fit was good, though, the tailoring already doing its part to disguise Takao's modest curves. When Midorima handed her the waistcoat to go over the shirt—sturdy canvas in weathered brown instead of something more fanciful—it disguised the rest of them perfectly.
Takao looked entirely different then, with her hair smoothed back and a set of goggles perched on top of her head. She looked like a boy, and that was—a surprisingly compelling look on her. After she'd rolled up her sleeves and settled the tool belt around her waist, she pulled on the fingerless leather gloves that completed the outfit and flexed her fingers in them. "Well, how do I—" She stopped short and began to grin, which was when Midorima realized that she might have been staring. Just a bit.
Though she looked away hurriedly, it was too late—the damage had been done. Takao seemed to have an infallible instinct for knowing when she had managed to somehow discomfit Midorima, and the present moment was no exception to that. "Shin-chan," she said, delighted. "I think you're blushing."
Midorima glared at her, not that it ever did any good with Takao. "I am not."
Takao just grinned and stepped closer. "I think you are." She set her gloved hands on Midorima's hips; they were warm through the layers of the chemise and the drawers. (Midorima didn't suppose anyone could blame her for it if she chose to wait until the last possible minute to don the rest of her own costume; she could admit to the impracticality of her dress, even if it was as authentic as she could manage to make it.) Takao insinuated herself close enough that she had to tip her head back to smirk up at Midorima. "Shin-chan, I think you like this outfit on me."
Midorima nudged her spectacles up her nose. "I suppose it's becoming enough on you."
Takao pulled an exaggerated face, mouth round with shock and her eyes wide and disingenuous. "Shin-chan. You say the sweetest things to me." She grinned again and ran her hands up Midorima's sides, slow. "I'm kind of liking this look on you," she confided, following the stays up and settling her hands against the swell of Midorima's chest. "It does some pretty fantastic things to your boobs."
"Takao—" Midorima began, but Takao wasn't really listening to her anymore. (So what else was new?) She was leaning forward instead and brushing her lips against the tops of Midorima's breasts, soft. The touch of her lips was warm; Midorima tried to keep her breathing steady, but couldn't help the way it bobbled in her throat when Takao cupped a hand around her breast and rubbed her thumb against it, coaxing the peak of it taut beneath the fine cloth. "Takao, what are you doing?"
"Mm, think that's obvious, don't you?" Takao's voice was muffled by the way she was addressing herself straight to Midorima's cleavage. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm molesting my incredibly hot girlfriend."
Midorima felt her face go even hotter. "Takao, I have to finish getting dressed—" But it came out with less force than she'd intended, because Takao had begun to stroke her thumb in slow circles against the peak of her breast. The friction of the cloth moving over sensitive skin was enough to put a twist of heat in the pit of Midorima's stomach. "Takao—"
"The convention isn't going anywhere." Takao planted her lips against the top curve of Midorima's breast and sucked until Midorima could feel the sting of a mark blooming there. "What's the rush?"
"I don't want to have to put this damn corset back on again," Midorima told her, because it had taken both of them to get it laced in the first place.
The heavens alone knew why she'd thought that would be a deterrent; Takao just lifted her head and grinned. "Guess we'll have to leave it on, won't we?"
"You are horrible," Midorima said, but it only meant that Takao was laughing when she pulled her down for a kiss. There was no point in resisting Takao when she got into this sort of a mood, so Midorima didn't bother trying and kissed back, opening her mouth to Takao's and wrapping her arms around Takao's shoulders when she hummed with satisfaction and pressed closer. She seemed to mean it about leaving Midorima's underthings in place, because she continued to stroke Midorima's breasts through the chemise without making any move towards the laces of her stays. Somehow that was more exciting in its way than getting undressed would have been—or maybe she was only feeling lightheaded because she was breathless. Midorima supposed it didn't matter which it was. By the time Takao drew away, her lips red and wet, Midorima was beginning to rethink her position on undressing and whether the inconvenience of getting dressed again after might not be worth it.
But Takao seemed to have really meant what she'd said. "Here," she said, nudging against Midorima, walking her backwards a step, and another step, until Midorima backed into the hotel room's low dresser and could brace herself against it. Takao kissed her again as she slid her hands down the stays again and settled them against Midorima's hips—no, she was gathering up the loose fall of the chemise, pulling it up to bare Midorima's legs—well, not bare them, not with the stockings and the drawers, but close enough. "I can't believe how many layers you're willing to put up with for this," she muttered, tugging at the drawstrings of the drawers with one hand and lifting the other to close her teeth on the snap of her glove—
"Leave them on," Midorima said, impulsive, which seemed to shock Takao almost as much as she shocked herself.
"Shin-chan," Takao sighed after her split-second second of naked disbelief had dissolved into an expression of open glee. "That's filthy." She didn't allow Midorima any time to recant, either, and immediately slid her hand into Midorima's drawers, slipping her fingers between Midorima's thighs and stroking. She made a pleased sound when she realized how slick Midorima already was, while Midorima clutched at her shoulders and gasped with the quick, light touch. "Oh, man, Shin-chan, you're really into this, aren't you?"
"Stop talking so much," Midorima told her, voice husky even in her own ears as Takao moved her fingers back and forth, sliding them against her delicately enough that the tease of it made Midorima rock her hips forward, desperate for more friction than that.
"You ought to know better than that by now." Takao leaned inter her again, kissing the side of Midorima's throat, open and wet. She circled her fingers against Midorima's clit, which made her gasp at the rush of sensation and lean her head back. "Fuck, Shin-chan, you should see what you look like, this is such a good look for you..."
Midorima wrapped her fingers around Takao's nape and kissed her again to stem the tide of Takao's chatter. Takao hummed into her mouth, sucking on her tongue, and slid her fingers against Midorima more firmly, stroking them between her folds and pressing the tips of them into her. Midorima groaned and rocked her hips into the pressure of that and the curling build of pleasure low in her gut and the friction of Takao's glove against her clit. Takao hummed again and pressed her fingers deeper, fucking her on them until Midorima was shaking with the way pleasure sang through her, the pitch of it rising and rising until it finally broke. She groaned against Takao's mouth, arching into the line of Takao's body as her hips jerked against Takao's hand, until Takao finally eased her fingers away. She panted for breath, sagging against the dresser, and couldn't help the sound she made when Takao slid her fingers into her mouth to lick them clean. "Takao—"
Takao stepped back smartly, retreating out of arm's length when Midorima reached for her. She grinned again. "Later, Shin-chan," she said, her eyes bright. "We've got to get you ready for the convention, right?" When Midorima blinked, not quite following her logic, it just made Takao's eyes gleam more brightly. "Just think of how much fun you're going to have later, undressing me after we're done for the day."
Midorima couldn't keep herself from shuddering at the way that pulled a wave of anticipatory heat through her and didn't bother trying to conceal it. "I see," she said, low. "I'll look forward to it."
Takao laughed, wicked. "Yeah," she said. "So will I."
end
Characters/Pairings: Midorima/Takao
Summary: This is a good look for Takao.
Notes: Porn Battle fill for steampunk, genderswap, crossdressing, and stockings. From the Rule 63 'verse. 1729 words, adult for smut!
Stick Some Gears on It (and call it steampunk)
"Okay, Shin-chan, you know I love you, but I draw the line at bustles, okay?" Takao had said, and no amount of wheedling or expostulating on Midorima's part had been able to budge her on that point. Takao flatly refused to be cajoled into wearing a bustle or even a corset no matter how willing she was to cosplay with Midorima otherwise. Appeals based on the veracity of the thing were no good; appeals to vanity were even less so, because Takao had just laughed when Midorima had suggested that the corset might flatter her figure. "What figure?" she asked, derisive for no good reason that Midorima could see—Takao had a perfectly nice figure, sleek and compact, with just the right amount of curves over her muscles.
Takao was very strange sometimes.
In the end, they had to compromise somewhere between Midorima's need for authenticity and Takao's disdain for the finer points of Victorian ladies' dress. There was nothing for it but to put Takao into trousers instead of a dress—trousers and the braces to hold them up with, even though Takao had just enough in the way of hips to render the latter unnecessary. But successful cosplay was as much about the visual effect as it was authenticity.
"Whatever you say, Shin-chan," Takao told her, clearly amused, and held still while Midorima paced around her, examining the fit of the trousers and the shirt, both of which were rather ordinary. Takao had listened to Midorima's proposal that she adopt a gentleman adventurer's persona and wrinkled her nose before countering with the suggested that she be an engineer instead. The shirt was soft and worn and the trousers were artfully stained with grease in places. The fit was good, though, the tailoring already doing its part to disguise Takao's modest curves. When Midorima handed her the waistcoat to go over the shirt—sturdy canvas in weathered brown instead of something more fanciful—it disguised the rest of them perfectly.
Takao looked entirely different then, with her hair smoothed back and a set of goggles perched on top of her head. She looked like a boy, and that was—a surprisingly compelling look on her. After she'd rolled up her sleeves and settled the tool belt around her waist, she pulled on the fingerless leather gloves that completed the outfit and flexed her fingers in them. "Well, how do I—" She stopped short and began to grin, which was when Midorima realized that she might have been staring. Just a bit.
Though she looked away hurriedly, it was too late—the damage had been done. Takao seemed to have an infallible instinct for knowing when she had managed to somehow discomfit Midorima, and the present moment was no exception to that. "Shin-chan," she said, delighted. "I think you're blushing."
Midorima glared at her, not that it ever did any good with Takao. "I am not."
Takao just grinned and stepped closer. "I think you are." She set her gloved hands on Midorima's hips; they were warm through the layers of the chemise and the drawers. (Midorima didn't suppose anyone could blame her for it if she chose to wait until the last possible minute to don the rest of her own costume; she could admit to the impracticality of her dress, even if it was as authentic as she could manage to make it.) Takao insinuated herself close enough that she had to tip her head back to smirk up at Midorima. "Shin-chan, I think you like this outfit on me."
Midorima nudged her spectacles up her nose. "I suppose it's becoming enough on you."
Takao pulled an exaggerated face, mouth round with shock and her eyes wide and disingenuous. "Shin-chan. You say the sweetest things to me." She grinned again and ran her hands up Midorima's sides, slow. "I'm kind of liking this look on you," she confided, following the stays up and settling her hands against the swell of Midorima's chest. "It does some pretty fantastic things to your boobs."
"Takao—" Midorima began, but Takao wasn't really listening to her anymore. (So what else was new?) She was leaning forward instead and brushing her lips against the tops of Midorima's breasts, soft. The touch of her lips was warm; Midorima tried to keep her breathing steady, but couldn't help the way it bobbled in her throat when Takao cupped a hand around her breast and rubbed her thumb against it, coaxing the peak of it taut beneath the fine cloth. "Takao, what are you doing?"
"Mm, think that's obvious, don't you?" Takao's voice was muffled by the way she was addressing herself straight to Midorima's cleavage. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm molesting my incredibly hot girlfriend."
Midorima felt her face go even hotter. "Takao, I have to finish getting dressed—" But it came out with less force than she'd intended, because Takao had begun to stroke her thumb in slow circles against the peak of her breast. The friction of the cloth moving over sensitive skin was enough to put a twist of heat in the pit of Midorima's stomach. "Takao—"
"The convention isn't going anywhere." Takao planted her lips against the top curve of Midorima's breast and sucked until Midorima could feel the sting of a mark blooming there. "What's the rush?"
"I don't want to have to put this damn corset back on again," Midorima told her, because it had taken both of them to get it laced in the first place.
The heavens alone knew why she'd thought that would be a deterrent; Takao just lifted her head and grinned. "Guess we'll have to leave it on, won't we?"
"You are horrible," Midorima said, but it only meant that Takao was laughing when she pulled her down for a kiss. There was no point in resisting Takao when she got into this sort of a mood, so Midorima didn't bother trying and kissed back, opening her mouth to Takao's and wrapping her arms around Takao's shoulders when she hummed with satisfaction and pressed closer. She seemed to mean it about leaving Midorima's underthings in place, because she continued to stroke Midorima's breasts through the chemise without making any move towards the laces of her stays. Somehow that was more exciting in its way than getting undressed would have been—or maybe she was only feeling lightheaded because she was breathless. Midorima supposed it didn't matter which it was. By the time Takao drew away, her lips red and wet, Midorima was beginning to rethink her position on undressing and whether the inconvenience of getting dressed again after might not be worth it.
But Takao seemed to have really meant what she'd said. "Here," she said, nudging against Midorima, walking her backwards a step, and another step, until Midorima backed into the hotel room's low dresser and could brace herself against it. Takao kissed her again as she slid her hands down the stays again and settled them against Midorima's hips—no, she was gathering up the loose fall of the chemise, pulling it up to bare Midorima's legs—well, not bare them, not with the stockings and the drawers, but close enough. "I can't believe how many layers you're willing to put up with for this," she muttered, tugging at the drawstrings of the drawers with one hand and lifting the other to close her teeth on the snap of her glove—
"Leave them on," Midorima said, impulsive, which seemed to shock Takao almost as much as she shocked herself.
"Shin-chan," Takao sighed after her split-second second of naked disbelief had dissolved into an expression of open glee. "That's filthy." She didn't allow Midorima any time to recant, either, and immediately slid her hand into Midorima's drawers, slipping her fingers between Midorima's thighs and stroking. She made a pleased sound when she realized how slick Midorima already was, while Midorima clutched at her shoulders and gasped with the quick, light touch. "Oh, man, Shin-chan, you're really into this, aren't you?"
"Stop talking so much," Midorima told her, voice husky even in her own ears as Takao moved her fingers back and forth, sliding them against her delicately enough that the tease of it made Midorima rock her hips forward, desperate for more friction than that.
"You ought to know better than that by now." Takao leaned inter her again, kissing the side of Midorima's throat, open and wet. She circled her fingers against Midorima's clit, which made her gasp at the rush of sensation and lean her head back. "Fuck, Shin-chan, you should see what you look like, this is such a good look for you..."
Midorima wrapped her fingers around Takao's nape and kissed her again to stem the tide of Takao's chatter. Takao hummed into her mouth, sucking on her tongue, and slid her fingers against Midorima more firmly, stroking them between her folds and pressing the tips of them into her. Midorima groaned and rocked her hips into the pressure of that and the curling build of pleasure low in her gut and the friction of Takao's glove against her clit. Takao hummed again and pressed her fingers deeper, fucking her on them until Midorima was shaking with the way pleasure sang through her, the pitch of it rising and rising until it finally broke. She groaned against Takao's mouth, arching into the line of Takao's body as her hips jerked against Takao's hand, until Takao finally eased her fingers away. She panted for breath, sagging against the dresser, and couldn't help the sound she made when Takao slid her fingers into her mouth to lick them clean. "Takao—"
Takao stepped back smartly, retreating out of arm's length when Midorima reached for her. She grinned again. "Later, Shin-chan," she said, her eyes bright. "We've got to get you ready for the convention, right?" When Midorima blinked, not quite following her logic, it just made Takao's eyes gleam more brightly. "Just think of how much fun you're going to have later, undressing me after we're done for the day."
Midorima couldn't keep herself from shuddering at the way that pulled a wave of anticipatory heat through her and didn't bother trying to conceal it. "I see," she said, low. "I'll look forward to it."
Takao laughed, wicked. "Yeah," she said. "So will I."
end