ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ contents - izana kurokawa , izana being mean , brat reader mention , gender-neutral reader , dom-sub dynamic if you squint , sadism-masochism mention , reader gets off on izana's boot .
: ̗̀➛ author's note - this is not a full fic, just a little something i randomly came up with and decided to post. it's not proofread and i didn't care enough to use any sort of capitalization so it's lacking that. sorry for my random disappearances. i'll catch up on my requests soon, but they are still open!
the way izana has you pinned to the floor with nothing but one of his black boots is pitiful. the cold wood of your apartment is digging into your back, eyes looking up at him as he sneers down at you. brats weren't to be tolerated and after one too many whines falling from your lips he snapped. heel digging almost painfully into your shirt-covered stomach, he leaned down, most of his weight on his other leg as to not cause you too much pain.
"i don't have time for your fucking games. was patient not something you could be for one minute?" the question is more rhetorical than genuine. his phone buzzes in his pocket, pulling his attention from you and lets you go out from beneath his food like a partially squashed bug. walking away, he sits himself on the couch in your shared living room, answering the call. it doesn't take long for you to follow and when you do he's ignoring you until you've sunk to your knees between his spread legs.
he mutes himself after saying a quick 'one moment', lavender eyes watching as your hands start to slide up his legs. moving one leg between your thighs, he's roughly pushing them open and shoving his boot beneath you so that it's pressing against that sensitive spot. grabbing your wrists with one hand and setting them atop one of his clothed thighs he bends down, breath tickling your face, "brats don't get what they want. prove yourself worthy of my attention and perhaps i'll allow you to have it."
with that izana is releasing your wrists and sitting up, one arm draping along the back of the couch. elbow propping up as it sinks into the soft cushion he leans his head against his knuckles, unmuting himself with his free hand. continuing the conversation he had started mere seconds prior, his mouth his moving and making sound to respond to the person on the other side of the device, but his eyes are trained on you. nudging his foot a little as some sort of wordless demand that you begin, he watches as you do just that.
watching you with the hint of a cruel smirk tugging up at his lips, izana doesn't touch you even as your fingers are starting to dig into the flesh of his thigh. only reacting when a whimper tumbled was elicited from the back of your throat, his eyes narrowed and his smirk vanished. he didn't need to say anything for you to understand that you weren't allowed to make any noise. the way you moved your hips had him amused, finding your desperation nothing short of entertaining. even as he could feel himself itching to hang up the phone call and shove himself down your throat he didn't do such a thing. servants were supposed to grovel at their kings feet if they wanted something, after all.
