Hello! My friend and I really love your izou fics and wanted to make a request if you would humble me (us) with your talents please 🙏
Could you write a smutty oneshot of izou x reader also with shibari? I think it would really fit his character and I’d love to read it
Thank you, and I hope you’re having a great day/night!!!!
One Piece | Izou | 6.5k | Masterlist
18+ Readers Only | AFAB Reader | Contains Smut + Bondage
You heard the rope tug free and grabbed it on instinct alone, hand shooting out to catch it as it flew past your head. A grating, burning pain hit you so quickly you didn’t even have a second to be proud of your reflexes. You cursed loudly.
Not the smartest catch you’d ever made.
You swung down off the rigging and shoved it toward Jozu, grumbling under your breath the entire way.
“Good catch.”
You huffed and examined your palm in the light, thoroughly disagreeing with the notion that you should have caught it at all. Somebody else could have climbed up and grabbed it later. It would have saved you the rope burn.
He retied the rope to one of the cleats before he looked over. “Take that to Marco. Before it gets infected.”
You nodded and turned on your heel, annoyed at yourself. Your palm burned as though you’d stuck it into an open flame briefly.
Though, at least, there were several ways to get to the infirmary. One of which led you past the gun deck where you happened to know the sixteenth division were busy maintaining the cannons under the watchful eye of their commander.
It smelled of gunpowder and iron down there; the smells familiar enough to draw a smile to your face automatically.
Izou looked up the moment you stopped, raising a curious eyebrow as you approached.
“I thought you’d be kept busy for most of the day,” he said.
“I’m heading to the infirmary,” you said. “But I sort of got lost on the way there and had to take the long route.”
“Is that so? What did you do?”
You held out your hand and he gently took your wrist, turning it over so he could examine your palm. The smooth leather of his glove stung where it caught on the edges of the injury.
He looked to you for an explanation and you smiled.
“I grabbed a rope that I probably should have let loose. But on the positive side, I don’t have to go scrambling up the sail to retrieve it later and I get to see you because I forgot where the infirmary is.”
“Fascinating how you somehow walked past it to reach here.”
You put a hand to your mouth in mock shock. “I didn’t even realise. I must have been distracted because I was missing you so much.”
“We saw each other this morning.”
“That was like years ago,” you complained. “I’ve aged into dust since then.”
He chuckled at the slight theatrics and caressed your cheek gently. “Quite agreeable for dust then. I’ll give you something for this if you would like?”
“Hm?” you asked.
“I’ll show you.”
He said something clipped over his shoulder to his division before he stepped past you, catching your uninjured hand smoothly and guiding you with him. You glanced back over your shoulder toward the infirmary once. You weren’t about to complain. Sacrificing actual work to spend time with Izou was a very favourable trade.
He led you to his cabin and you settled onto one of the cushions beside his low table. Izou searched among the lacquered jars and brushes arranged beside his mirror until he found a small metal box worked with an intricate pattern.
He sat beside you and took your hand. “This is made specifically for friction burns.”
You smiled, not entirely bothered even if it was. He removed one of his gloves and began to smooth a small amount over the burn while you admired him. The gentle upward curve of his lips betrayed that he knew exactly what you were doing.
“I would ask if it’s making you feel better,” he said. “But I think it’s more likely that you’ve forgotten you were hurt in favour of watching me.”
“A little bit of both,” you admitted, shameless in being called out.
You reached for the small box with your free hand, curious about the intricate design and smooth metal. It was almost entirely ornamental but you did recognise a faint mark on the side that made you curious.
“Is this from Wano?” you asked.
Izou nodded. “Yes. Although not originally for injuries earned on deck, it became quite popular amongst sailors. Not every ship has a doctor who can heal injuries with fire.”
Marco’s flames would certainly be more effective than any cream but if you had to choose, you’d take the time with Izou over the quicker treatment any day. Though you doubted you would have received healing flames for such a small injury anyway.
“What was it originally for?”
He looked humoured as he answered. “A form of bondage.”
You laughed at the unexpected response, caught entirely off guard. “Oh,” you said. “I was expecting something far more… well, not that.”
“Some areas of the kingdom are very fond of rope bondage,” he explained. “Not everywhere, of course, but certain entertainment districts were known for it. The cream became more popular throughout the docks later.”
“I didn’t think entertainment districts worried themselves about rope burn.”
“You’d be surprised how commonly friction burns occur,” he said. “Smugglers carried it beyond Wano long ago. It still turns up in port markets occasionally.”
You gave the box one last turn and put it back on the table. “It’s made it feel much better already.”
Izou reached for a thin piece of silken fabric. He wrapped it carefully around your palm, tying it in a delicate and unobtrusive knot on the back of your hand.
“It’s a pity,” he said. “With an injury like this, you’ll be pretty useless above deck. I suppose you’ll have to assist the sixteenth division with inventory for a while.”
You laughed. “You know, the fifth division has inventory tasks too.”
He hummed but said nothing else.
The injury healed quicker than you would have liked it to. You rather enjoyed the time you got to speak to Izou – definitely not distracted and entirely doing your work rather than staring at him while he organised his division.
The bandage remained neat despite several days of work and you actually found you liked it enough to dread taking it off. The beautiful azure of the fabric didn’t lose its softness even once and you found yourself playing with it as you wandered around an island days after it originally happened.
Shore leave for the fifth division had scattered most around the island and you had very little intention of being on ground for too long.
You already had a plan to find Izou after you’d spent long enough to pretend you were doing anything else. You drifted along a market and examined jewellery you did not need and weapons you would not be allowed to bring back before you found a second-hand bookstall.
The stock was piled carelessly at its sides in uneven towers and the merchant seemed thoroughly disinterested in selling anything.
She was young enough and distracted that you assumed the stall may belong to a relative. You sorted through faded covers until you recognised the familiar mark of Wano stamped into the leather at the top of a small red book.
You flipped it open with mild interest, only to pause when you saw the illustrations within. Ropes, loops, and knots were organised over the pages, growing more elaborate as the book continued. People began to get involved a third of the way in and you immediately snapped the book closed.
Alright then.
But as you did so, your eyes fell on the knot tied on the back of your bandage, painstakingly careful and deliberate.
“You going to buy that?” the merchant asked.
You handed over the beri without even really thinking and tucked it into your coat pocket. You spent the rest of the time walking around the market, wondering what you should even do with it.
It was only curiosity, you told yourself briefly. Izou mentioned it and now you had a book that showed what he meant. It was totally normal.
You pondered keeping it to yourself but by the time you stepped into his cabin, it had already occupied your mind for long enough that pretending otherwise would be foolish. Your nerves fluttered in your veins as you held it out to him.
“Look what I found.”
Izou reached for the book. He wasted no time flipping through the pages with an expression of careful disinterest that might have convinced you if his gaze had not lingered over several of the drawings. His thumb stilled against the edge of one page before he continued.
“I see I started something for you.”
“Maybe,” you agreed. “It looks interesting, doesn’t it?”
He hummed quietly. “Depends what kind of interest you’re implying.”
You took a seat next to him with a small smile. “Either,” you said, truthful despite your rapid heartbeat.
“That can’t be your answer to most things.”
“It’s true though. I find it very pretty and well…”
He breathed out a small laugh. “You’re far too readable for being coy. If you wanted to indulge in this, it would need a decent amount of rope and practice to be possible. Who would you imagine as being in charge of it?”
You blinked, not having expected the question because it was fairly obvious. “Either?”
“I’m not going to accept that as an answer anymore.”
“Izou, you’re being mean.”
“I know.”
“You’re better with knots than I am and I think you might far prefer it that way,” you relented. “But I really didn’t think it through beyond buying the book.”
He hummed and pressed a small kiss to the side of your head. “I can see. Though the problem with that is easy to identify. You would need to be quite patient.”
You gave him a small look. “Hey, I can be patient.”
“Mm.”
“You know, you’re in a bit of a rude mood today.”
“I am.” He closed the book and placed it on the table next to him, cover facing the table. “I can think on it but I won’t promise you anything more.”
He returned to the sewing he’d been doing when you entered; drew a length of thread through the eye of the needle and smoothed the fabric across his lap. It was normal but it was bordering on weird.
You watched his hands move before you looked up at him.
Izou’s expression remained carefully measured. His attention seemed very focused on the fabric rather than on you.
“You aren’t telling me something,” you said.
“There are plenty of things I don’t tell you,” he said. “Not every thought in my mind is so important that it needs to be heard.”
You crossed your arms, turning more to him. “But it’s bothering you. You know that you can say no to me, right?”
He lowered the needle to his lap. “I have no problem with the idea, in theory.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
He smiled and ran his index finger along the underside of your jaw, drawing you slightly closer so he could press a light kiss to your lips. “I appreciate your concern but it’s not as negative as you seem to be believing. I’ve simply never considered the idea. Most of my associations with what was popular in the entertainment districts of Wano are… poor. But I do not want that to be the deciding factor in my answer to you.”
You pulled a face. You didn’t know much about the entertainment districts of Wano and understood even less about Izou’s opinion of them but him being unimpressed was enough.
“We really don’t have to do it,” you said.
Izou gently rubbed the spot between your brows. “Don’t frown so hard,” he said. “You’ll give yourself a headache. I’m only thinking.”
You huffed and caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles in thanks for the reassurance. “I don’t want to worry you with things like thinking.”
“Thankfully, it’s not too unusual of an activity for me. Unlike some on the ship, I’m not averse to the concept.”
You laughed. “At least you’re not being mean to me only.”
“Just more to you.”
“Why?”
“Because you look far too sweet when you’re mildly offended. Now stop worrying yourself so much about me. You are not the source of my discomfort,” he asserted. “I know what you meant by asking. I simply need the time to consider what answer I feel most right in giving.”
When you eventually left with him for dinner, the book remained on his table. He made no move to return it.
Two weeks passed without another mention of the book, and you assumed Izou had made his decision in silence and left it there. Which meant you were entirely unprepared when he appeared behind you while you were securing a practice dummy on the fifth division’s stretch of deck.
The dummy shifted beneath your hands as a tape measure slid around your chest. You startled hard enough to nearly send it toppling into the railing.
“Try not to move too much,” Izou said near your ear. “I need precise measurements.”
His arms bracketed you as he brought the ends of the tape together in front of your body. His chest pressed against your shoulders, far closer than the task required, while the fifth division continued training only a short distance away. He read the number aloud, released one end, and drew a slim notebook and pen from his sleeve.
You heard the faint scratch of the nib against paper before the tape settled around your waist.
“Breathe normally. You’re making the measurements inaccurate.”
You weren’t even breathing at all. You forced yourself to do so, breath shaky as you inhaled. Izou moved around you, looping the tape around your hips and pulling it tight. What was he doing?
“What are the measurements for?” you asked when you met his gaze.
He held one end against your shoulder and unravelled it until it rested on your hip. “Clothing.”
“Izou,” Vista commented and you suddenly became very aware that the rest of the fifth division were staring at you. “I don’t often ask this but could you measure my division members in your own time?”
“You’ll have her back soon.”
Izou didn’t look away as he answered. He lifted your arm and measured from the shoulder down before he settled the tape over your wrists, measuring the width in a way you couldn’t possibly explain away with clothing. You were trying your hardest to look anywhere but at him, all too aware of the heat burning across your face.
He measured higher along your forearms and then, without warning crouched down in front of you in a way that made your breath catch.
He hooked the end of the tape against your hip and slowly ran it down your leg toward your ankle; his knuckles glided along the outside of your leg as he followed the path downward.
“Stand naturally.”
You were dying inside. “What do you mean?”
“Stop leaning away from me.”
“It’s because you’re kneeling in front of me,” you said, voice a sharp whisper.
“Very observant.”
He wrote down the length and then circled the tape around your calf. His fingers brushed behind your leg as he brought the ends together, contact fleeting enough to make your muscles tense up.
Izou paused, concentration slipping for a second as he looked up at you.
“Can you raise this leg slightly?”
You obeyed, awkwardly swaying for a second before your hand found his shoulder for balance as he looped the tape measure around your thigh. For a breath, Izou went still at your touch. Then his hand settled lightly against your calf as he steadied you while he drew the tape snug enough to take the measurement.
“This is very thorough for clothing,” you said in mild complaint.
“I dislike wasting material.”
The tape loosened and he remained kneeling as he wrote the final number down. Then he stood smoothly and tucked the book away, gathering the measuring tape back into his palm. He looked far too composed for what he had just done.
“Is that all?” you asked.
“For now. That dummy is off balance.”
“What?”
He reached past you to straighten the practice dummy, a faint curve to his mouth, before he stepped away. You watched him go blankly before you remembered that you were supposed to be working.
Vista frowned at you. “Clothing?”
“I don’t even know,” you admitted honestly.
Izou gave you no real answer when you found him later. He just smiled and offered you your usual seat in the dining hall. As though he hadn’t taken every measurement of your body in the middle of the deck as though that was normal behaviour.
“What was that?” you asked.
“I think,” he said. “It’ll be ready by next week. If you’ll come by my cabin.”
“Couldn’t you have asked me to come by later for measurements? Not in the middle of the deck?”
“I could have,” he said. “But then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to see you looking so flustered.”
You groaned and leaned your shoulder against him. “This is why I say you’re mean. Do you have any idea how many questions I got?”
“I imagine enough that you’ve constructed a whole narrative that I have no plans of confirming.”
The next week was the longest one of your life. Izou was far too good at redirecting your attention whenever you asked him about it and the time dragged by at an ungodly pace. You couldn’t even find it in your brain to think about much else and earned yourself a few sharp bruises during training for it.
When Izou finally asked you to come to his cabin, you arrived far too quickly.
He was waiting beside his low table, flipping through an unrelated book. Nothing in the room suggested anything strange but you closed the door with a little more force than needed in your excitement.
He smiled and gestured for you to join him. You did so with a forced slowness, trying to keep your eyes from darting around the room.
“Try not to look as though I’m fulfilling your greatest wish when you’ve barely known of it for a few weeks,” he said, amused.
“That’s… it’s not like my greatest dream,” you defended. “I’m just curious if it means that you’ve made your choice.”
He chuckled and reached to the side to pick up a pair of very simple, elegant heels. They were gorgeous and he placed them down next to you for you to examine. They felt expensive, even as you lifted them carefully.
“You bought me shoes?”
“We’re going to start with something decorative,” he said. “And then, perhaps, we can see if we try anything more. It’s experimental for now.”
He placed the small book he had used to record your measurements in front of you. You picked it up, inspecting the page he’d opened to find something sketched that looked nothing like what you’d seen in the book before. The lines were simple to follow; a rope that looped the ankle and secured a heel in place, decorated on the outside with a truly beautiful knot.
“This wasn’t from that book I got,” you said.
“No. I wasn’t fond of the idea of following instructions,” he said. “If the goal is to be aesthetically pleasing, I’d prefer something I designed.”
Warmth curled in your stomach at an embarrassing speed and he noticed your flush immediately, chuckling softly.
“Already? I haven’t even touched you.”
“You designed something for me.”
“We haven’t seen if it works yet,” he said. He reached beneath the table and took out a coil of rope, almost navy in colour. Your heart stumbled in your chest as he slid it through his fingers. “You will tell me immediately if anything pinches, burns, or becomes numb. Don’t wait until after you’ve decided if it’s okay.”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave you a sharp look. “I’m being serious.”
“I am too. You just used your ordering voice.”
“Because you rarely listen to anything else.” He moved around the table so he sat ot the same side as you and held out one hand. “Your foot.”
Izou placed the heel on your foot and slipped the rope around it. He fixed it delicately around your ankle; took his time with perfect loops and an impeccable knot resting against your skin. Every time his fingers brushed against your skin, it sent a faint shiver through you, your mouth slightly dry as you watched his careful work.
The rope was softer than you had expected, firm without scratching. When both were done, he helped you to your feet and you shifted as you stood to try and ignore the heat that was nagging between your legs.
“Are they comfortable?”
You lifted each foot carefully and twisted your ankles. It was no different to wearing a heel with a strap although even looking at them was sending a small pulse of pleasure through you. The ropes didn’t rub against your skin at all, even as you took a small step back.
“They’re cute,” you said. “I could almost make it part of a regular outfit.”
He inclined his head faintly. “Maybe. If you chose the colour correctly. Though I imagine you would get some looks.”
You slowly sank back onto the cushions and he took a seat beside you, his smile far too pleased to be unaffected. Even seated, the ankle ropes were very comfortable. You ran your fingers over the threads and appreciated the softness.
“They took some practise,” Izou admitted. “And I obviously did not have a great number of test subjects. Still, the visual appeal was the most difficult to get right and provided a very satisfying challenge.”
“You struggle with things?”
He chuckled. “You don’t need to praise me all the time. I don’t begin to doubt myself the moment your praises soften.”
You adjusted your seat so you were imitating his seat, resting on your knees in front of him. “You’re too perfect for me to not say it.”
“Simply because I tied rope around your shoes?”
“You did it so prettily I don’t want to ever take them off.”
He laughed, and it was such a pretty sound that you felt yourself melt at hearing it. You raised your hands and he tilted his head forward, aware of what you wanted from countless times before. You loosened his hair with careful movements, never pulling as you dismantled the elaborate style and allowed the strands to drape over his shoulders.
They were like silk under your fingers; smoother and more luxurious than any fabric he could find elsewhere.
When it was done, he raised his head again and you smiled.
“Thank you. For trying it a little.”
He inclined his head. “It took me some time to think of a true answer for you but, as much as I know this might cause you a bit too much excitement, we aren’t done yet.”
True to his warning, something in your chest stirred at the promise. “Oh?”
Izou reached out and ran his index finger very slowly across your chest. He traced imaginary lines through the fabric, crossing under your breasts and over your shoulders.
“A pair of ankle ties is hardly enough to judge by,” he said. “We won’t do much more but I’d like to try a form of harness. The purpose is to restrain your arms.” He caught your wrist and leaned forward, moving both your hands behind your back. “Like this.”
You weren’t really focusing because he was suddenly so much closer. You tilted your head toward him, heart pounding in your chest as his gaze dropped for a second to your lips.
But instead of kissing you, he released your arms and sat back.
“I’ll need an opinion,” he said.
You huffed and caught his face gently between your palms, leaning in to kiss him before he could keep teasing you. Izou made a quiet sound against your lips, surprise lasting only a moment before his hand slid around your waist and pulled you closer.
The kiss deepened with an intensity that made your fingers tighten faintly against his jaw. His mouth moved over yours with slow, deliberate pressure, patient even as you chased him for more. When your teeth caught lightly against his lower lip, his hold on you tightened and the careful control of the kiss slipped for a breath. Heat rushed through you at the soft sound he made.
He drew back before you were ready, though not far. His breath brushed over your mouth and his thumb pressed once into your side as if reminding himself to let go. The composure in his expression had thinned just enough to leave you pleased.
“I’m happy with it,” you said, slightly breathless. “What do I need to do?”
“Sit properly,” he said as he rose from his seat. “This will be far easier if you’re not shifting too much.”
You straightened your back and neck, breathed in deep and tried to relax. His hand stayed on your shoulder as he stepped around you, leaving you far too aware of his fingers against your skin. You kept your gaze forward, scanning over the bookshelves against the walls. You recognised the familiar cover sitting amongst his others and smiled.
He kept it with the rest.
Izou’s fingers caught the edge of your shirt and he paused for a second, waiting for permission.
You helped remove it; tried desperately to ignore the sharp kick of your heart as your bra followed not long after.
“Remember, I need you to breathe normally,” he warned.
“That’s not fair to ask for.”
He settled behind you and leaned forward to press a short kiss to the back of your shoulder. “Maybe not. But I still need you to try.”
It took an embarrassing amount of effort to bring your breathing under control. Your pulse beat too quickly beneath your skin, and Izou did nothing to help as he drew the rope around your chest.
The first length passed beneath your breasts, smooth and cool for only a moment before it gathered the warmth of your body. He guided it twice around your ribs, each loop settling flat against the last. The rope tightened with a quiet drag, firm enough that you felt every breath press against it without making one difficult to take.
He drew the next length up over your sternum and across your shoulders. His knuckles followed its path, brushing your skin whenever he flattened a twist or adjusted the tension. Every small correction made you more aware of him behind you, of his knees near your own and the faint shift of his kimono whenever he leaned closer.
Your seat was doing little for the heat pooling in your cunt. Every time he tightened something, it sent another small pulse through you.
When he brought your arms behind your back, your shoulders protested at the unfamiliar angle. Izou paused immediately, one hand steady around your wrist while the other adjusted the rope across your upper back. The pull eased into something firm but comfortable before he secured your wrists to the rest of the harness.
Izou ran his hands over your upper arms to check if they were in the right place before he leaned back.
“It’s done. What do you think?”
You adjusted your seat to try bringing some relief to the aching in your cunt and pulled experimentally at your arms. They were comfortable. The harness even more so. You barely noticed it until you adjusted and the rope shifted.
“I like it,” you admitted.
“Aside from the obvious.”
You turned your head around to smile at him over your shoulder and the ropes pulled gently in a way that went straight through you. “It’s the nicest way I’ve ever been tied up.”
He offered a mildly unimpressed look. “Are you referring to when you were almost arrested by the Marines?”
“Yes.”
“That’s hardly the same thing.”
“I know,” you said. “I much prefer this.”
“I would sincerely hope so.”
He reached out to adjust one of the ropes and the brief tickle of his skin against yours felt far sharper than it should have. You swallowed and tried to focus on the ropes instead and what he’d been trying.
“Have you made it pretty?” you asked.
Izou ran his fingers straight down your spine and your back arched. A small gasp escaped before you could catch it.
“I have,” he said. “This blue suits you well and the position certainly shows off your upper body well.” He traced the harness ropes around your front and moved minutely closer. “I can certainly see the aesthetic appeal of this.”
His hair was tickling your neck. You could feel his kimono shifting against your back every time he moved. He followed the ropes around your breasts and his thumb brushed over your nipple.
Your breath hitched sharply and you clenched around nothing.
“I wanted to ask if you’re enjoying this as much as you thought you would,” he mentioned. “But that would be foolish of me, wouldn’t it?”
Your tongue felt a little too heavy in your mouth. “I like it,” you agreed. “About… about as much as I thought.”
“It’s only a pity you can’t see many of the finer details yourself,” he said. “I should have considered a mirror.”
You didn’t care to admit how much you liked that idea.
Izou’s hand turned firm against your chest, guiding you back until you were leaning your back fully against his chest. Your thighs clenched hard despite yourself; the movement left you feeling far more exposed than it should have.
He trailed his fingers over the ankle bindings where they rested beneath the backs of your thighs. Gooseflesh prickled over your skin as he did so, his small hum vibrating against your shoulders.
“I considered trying one that connects these to your thighs,” he mentioned. “They would keep your legs in this position quite nicely.”
“Oh?”
It was the best you could manage and it sounded shaky even to your ears.
“I thought you might like the idea,” he continued. “But I worried the restriction might be a little too intense when you weren’t certain you’d enjoy it. Though… with what I know now, I’m certainly reconsidering it.”
His hand moved to pull your thighs apart and you couldn’t help but whine. His hand so close to where you wanted it felt torturous.
Everything felt unbearably close. The rope holding your arms in place. His arms wrapped around you. The hand between your thighs that seemed insistent on just rubbing small circles into the flesh there and nothing else.
“Can you still breathe fine?”
“Yes,” you whimpered.
“Good.”
He took your nipple in the hand that remained on your chest, rolling it between his index and his thumb. The sound that escaped you was far louder than it should have been. Your legs shook as you fought to keep your hips from moving.
He chuckled and leaned back, just slightly, but still enough that you immediately mourned the loss of him. You tipped your head back, leaning against his shoulder.
“Lift your head.”
You did so regrettably and he let go of your nipple to tap against each of your fingers, trailing a touch alongside the rope.
“Move your fingers for me.”
You flexed your fingers as best you could and it must have been enough because he caught the harness and tugged you back against him.
“I don’t want this on you for much longer,” he said, voice low against your ear. “So, if you want something from me before I take it off, I’d like you to ask.”
“Please,” you said, the word falling from your mouth so fast you almost couldn’t catch it.
“No. Ask properly.”
You whimpered and raised your hips faintly toward his hand, hoping it would be enough. Izou tapped your thigh in response but gave you no more.
“That’s not a request.”
“You know what I want,” you huffed.
“I do.”
You rocked your hips up again and this time he removed his hand entirely, placing it firmly against your hips and pulling you back down. You groaned softly. The heels were pressing hard against your ass now.
“You’re mean,” you complained.
“As you’ve told me before.”
“Please?” you tried again.
He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. The ache between your legs was quickly becoming impossible to ignore. You shuffled as best you could, pulling faintly against the knots.
“Izou.”
“Yes?”
He ran his fingers over your wrists and then reached toward the release knot. A spike of alarm went through you at the thought that he might genuinely stop.
“Please touch me,” you said, voice cracking your rush to get the words out. “Anything. Just please.”
Izou stopped and then he laughed against your neck. The hot air over your spine made you shiver as he finally moved off your hip, drifting past the waist of your bottoms. You fought to stay still as his palm pressed against your stomach and then slowly, languidly lower.
“You’re taking to this even better than I expected,” he mused.
His fingers brushed over your clit faintly and a desperate moan caught in your throat. He circled it twice and your hips bucked sharply up. He gave you no more pressure nor friction, teasing you with a maddening patience.
You pulled against the ropes, wishing you could drag him closer. But with him behind you, you couldn’t even plead with your eyes.
You lifted your hips again and he pulled back on the harness; the sudden force against your chest making your moan louder.
“Stay where I’ve placed you.”
He dragged his fingers over your cunt, stopping right when you thought he might give you what you wanted. You groaned after the third time and he must have taken some pity because his fingers slid into you slowly.
You clenched hard around him, broken moan catching in your throat as his mouth pressed to the curve of your shoulder. Your back tried to arch but he held you firm by the wrists.
His thumb rubbed over your clit and your hips rocked up sharply.
“Next time, I think those thigh ones are very needed,” he commented. “You struggle far too much with sitting still.”
Only he would be evaluating his design while reducing your thoughts to nothing. Your brain caught on ‘next time’ with a rush of excitement that came out as little more than a soft whimper.
Izou took up a slow, patient pace. The curl of his long fingers inside you drew embarrassing sounds from your throat; arousal so intense you could barely catch your breath. The ache between your legs sharpened until every slow movement of his hand felt impossible to endure.
It was maddening. You were so close. You could feel your orgasm lingering as he kept curling his fingers into the spot that sent stars over your vision.
But it wasn’t enough. He was taking too long between pumps, dragging you to the edge and then taking it away again. The sound that escaped you could only be called a desperate whine as his fingers shifted deeper, his thumb rolling over your clit.
“Izou,” you moaned. His name was the only part of the plea that survived.
“I suppose I cannot keep you in these forever,” he said and for a second, you heard a faint tremble in his voice.
It was deeply unfair that he could sound so pretty while staying hidden behind you. He increased his pace before you could protest, groans falling from your throat instead. You ground down against his hand and he let you now.
He released his hold on the harness and took your breast, playing with your nipple as you chased your high desperately.
His breath was catching against your shoulder and the sound dragged you closer; his hot breath fanning over your skin as he thrust his fingers deeper into you. Izou made a soft sound against your neck and your hands clenched desperately around the air.
You let out a near sob as he curled his fingers and hit every spot just right.
Your back arched away from his chest, head knocking into his shoulder as your climax hit you. It broke through you in sharp waves that made breathing seem optional, his name the only word you could manage. You clenched around his fingers, spasming as the last sparks of it jolted through your body.
Izou trailed soft kisses over your throat and back as you recovered, even the lightest of sensations making you moan softly.
He slipped his fingers from your cunt and brought them to your mouth, brushing his fingertips over the lower lip. You opened obediently, cleaning them as best you could while your breathing remained unsteady.
Only when your breathing began to settle did he reach for the release knot behind you. The tension vanished from your wrists in one smooth pull, followed by the gradual loosening across your chest as the harness slipped from your skin.
You brought your hands forward immediately and caught his forearm. Relief moved through you at the simple freedom to hold him again, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his sleeve while sensation returned fully to your shoulders. Izou covered your hand briefly with his own before he began rubbing the stiffness from your arms.
The rope gathered in soft loops beside you. He freed your ankles next, the heels making a sharp click against the floor as he set them down, and the cooler cabin air touched the places the bindings had warmed.
When he moved in front of you, he lifted each arm carefully and examined the faint red impressions around your wrists. They did not sting or burn. They were only shallow marks left by pressure, already beginning to fade.
“You look far too composed,” you mumbled, somewhat bitterly.
You stretched your legs out, knees finally protesting the angle. Izou smiled and rubbed your shins where they rested next to him.
“Good. And there’s no damage to be seen on your skin. Nothing that would even require the cream.”
“Why would there be?” you asked. “You did it perfectly.”
“You have too much faith in me.”
“Have you ever given me a reason not to have it?”
He sighed as though you were simply being stubborn but you could see the pride you stirred up glinting in his eyes. “I hope you enjoyed that as much as you thought you would.”
“More than,” you mumbled. “Did you enjoy it?”
Izou hesitated for just long enough that you began to panic before he smiled and you realised he was teasing. You huffed and he chuckled quietly.
“I liked it,” he said. “Whether I enjoy it, I’ll need more experience to decide.”
You straightened. “If you need more experience, I might be interested in helping.”
“Might?” he repeated. “Unusual choice of words when you’re staring at me like that.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Do I get to keep the shoes? They’re really comfortable.”
“I’ll consider it.” His fingers settled around your ankle, thumb passing over the place the rope had rested.
You smiled, all pretence of disappointment vanishing. Izou’s expression was far too satisfied for someone who had claimed he was still undecided.
I am very tempted to write a Part 2 to this.
