Dinner Date (SeikoXReader)

	You check your watch again. You know for a fact you’re not going to be late; if anything, you may even be fifteen minutes early. But you check it anyway to pass a few seconds whilst you wait for her to finish. It’s not that you’re impatient, per se. If anything, excited would be more accurate; you had no idea she even had a wardrobe beyond the dark jacket and dress shirt combo you normally see her in. With how little she seems to go anywhere beside her laboratory, you kind of just assumed… well, you’re not sure what you assumed. You check your watch. Judging by how long it’s taking, she rarely gets to wear whatever it is anyway. A little smile creeps onto your lips as you remember the excited mumbling that poured from her when you first asked; how her silvery hair seemed to writhe like little tendrils as each and every detail was hammered out. You’re not sure you’d ever seen her that happy before.

	The door opens with a click, snapping your attention back to the present. She slowly emerges, a little unsure on the shiny black heels and mumbling a mix of apologies and embarrassment. You can certainly see why she was having trouble; the nightshade cocktail dress is a far cry from her usual conservative attire. Its shoulder and backless, the only straps wrapping around her thin neck like a choker and pulling the fabric to a point just below her clavicle. The deep purple fades to a gentle forget-me-not blue through several layers of petal shapes that grow from her waist and down the elegant skirt. Matching silk gloves extend all the way up to her barely present biceps; her arms crossed nervously over her chest and hands idly rubbing along the shimmering fabric. Her usual segmented stockings have been replaced with a more traditional sheer black, flashes of pale thigh poking out beneath the hem of her dress.  It even looks like she tried to tame her unruly locks, albeit unsuccessfully, and has a small dash of pale violet make-up around her matching eyes.

	Seiko asks you how she looks, never quite making eye contact. A colourful blush brightens the sickly skin of her face –or what you can see of it. Even now, she’s reluctant to remove her signature surgical mask. Not that you mind, of course. Although, to be frank, she seems uncomfortable and gangly; a touch too thin to be showing so much, and a touch too tall to feasibly stand in those heels. You walk towards her, careful not to stand too close as she cowers back into the doorframe, before you give her your absolute honest opinion; that she looks amazing. Her face lightens up with flushed joy, her hair squirming a little as she stands a touch straighter. The confidence suits her. She takes your offered hand, shakily stepping forward. A soft squeak follows as she stumbles, falling into your chest. The faintest scent of lilacs desperately trying to overshadow sharp disinfectant wafts up from her. She’s bright red beneath her mask as she untangles herself from you, fiddling with her fingers as try not to chuckle too loudly. You offer again, smiling warmly, and the two of you slowly make your way into the night; her slender fingers wrapped tightly around your own.

	By the time you arrive at the restaurant Seiko seems to have mastered her heels, with only two or three extra incidents along the way. As expected, your jacket found its way to her exposed shoulders; a gift to stop the chill wind from causing another ripple of goose bumps along her pale skin. She pulls the lapels tightly over her chest and hunches her shoulders as her eyes flick across the room. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to be seated; nor does it take long for people to stare. You can’t really blame them. It isn’t often someone walks into a restaurant in a dress and a mask. With her skin, they might think she’s infectious. You swear at least one of the other patrons just scooted themselves the teensiest bit further away from your booth. Seiko shrinks from their eyes; unconsciously curling into the furthest corner. You sidle up beside her, your hand resting lightly on hers as you flash what you hope is a reassuring smile. You can’t see through her mask, but her eyes seem to smile back as her thumb gently rubs along your fingers.

	The food begins to arrive; all of it drawn from a pre-arranged menu created to fit Seiko’s unique requirements. You were surprised at how accommodating this place was; the chef assured you himself that not a single grain of sugar would make it into her food. Even so, a flash of panic crosses your face as each new course is delivered; and from the small, tense movements beside you it’s not hard to discern that the same thoughts have crossed her mind. You’re not even sure what would happen if she were to accidentally… No. You push the thought from your head, taking another bite. Nothing is going to happen. Nothing. You flick your gaze over to her as she slowly chews; no swelling, coughing or even a blemish on her. Your shoulders droop as you relax with an audible exhale. Sometimes you feel like you worry about her illness more than she does.

	More than an hour passes, filled with contented chewing and soft sprinklings of conversation. At first she’s hesitant, her responses mumbled and either short or rambling nonsense, but slowly you can see her begin to open up to you. You’re not entirely sure if that’s her growing confidence or the glasses of wine, but you can’t complain; you don’t think you’ve ever seen her this chatty before. Her cheeks have a healthy, rosy tint to them, and her timid slouch has vanished completely. She even starts to giggle a little at your jokes; you hate to use the cliché, but it really does sound like tinkling bells. You chuckle with her, your own cheeks a little flushed with a French red and the sudden realisation of how utterly wonderful that dress looks on her, now that she isn’t cowering.

	The giggling continues as you make your way back to her place. Despite the cold air she refuses your jacket, choosing to stumble beneath the streetlights with her hand in yours; occasionally bumping against you. You don’t even remember the journey back, or anything you said to her; just the sensation of her fingers intertwined with your own, and the sight of her skin glowing in orange light. It’s almost a shock when you find yourself at her door, telling her how much fun you had. Her hands grip either the door frame or her arm as she nods in agreement, her confidence seeming to drain a little as the buzz dies away. You hesitate, your hand twitching as your eyes drop to where her lips would be and your brain urges you forward. But you step back, smiling softly; you won’t push anything. Not tonight. A wave goodbye and a turn of your heel later, and you make your way back down the stairs.

	Or would have were it not for a sudden, firm grip on your hand. You turn back to her, heart leaping as she holds you back; the alcoholic confidence washed from her once again timid face. Pale eyes stay fixed on the floor as she mumbles something about a night cap. You can’t help but smile as her slender hands tug gently at yours; pleading for just a few more minutes with you. Naturally you accept her offer, trying to hide your elation just a little. Your heart noticeably melts as her hair squirms like a happy octopus whilst she ushers you back onto her couch. You settle in as she rushes to the kitchen; re-emerging with tinkling glasses and a bottle of red. A few drops spill from her first pouring, her hand trembling gently. You clink your glasses, taking a long sip to refuel the light buzz whilst she sits with her hands cupped around the blood-coloured liquid.

	The conversation is much more subdued than at dinner, with scant few words passing between the two of you. The silence is comfortable, however, and your bodies say everything you need to as you unconsciously sidle up closer. Before you know it your arm is around her waist, gently pulling her warm, bony body against yours. Her head rests lightly on your shoulder with a soft sigh, a few sips of wine sneaking under her mask. It isn’t long before your head rests upon hers, the silvery hair tickling your chin gently as she snuggles deeper into your torso. Your empty glasses return to the table and your hand finds hers; the fingers of both rubbing gently together as you enjoy the sound of each other’s heartbeat.

	You stay like this for a while; Seiko’s soft, rhythmic breathing slowly causing your eyelids to droop. You’re awoken from your dozing as she pulls herself from you. You blink and mutter, sitting up straight before her weight settles on your lap. The light behind her casts a pale halo around her body as she slowly reaches to her face. With a short hesitation, she pulls the mask from her face and lets it fall to the floor. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her remove it for any reason; even when she eats, she’s just moved it away a little. Her breathing speeds up as she sits atop you, her full face finally exposed in all its flushed, nervous wonder.

	God, she’s beautiful.

	It takes a second for you to realise you said that aloud, a wave of embarrassed heat washing over your cheeks. Her eyes widen a little as her fingers fiddle nervously in front of her chest. She takes a long, deep breath, her hands resting on your shoulders to steady herself, and slowly leans her face into yours. You briefly feel her hot breath on your face before your lips press together into a tentative kiss. And then another. And another, and another. Over and over you crush your lips to hers; your hands climbing up her back whilst silk covered fingers run themselves through your hair. You hug her close to you as your tongues slip together, gently brushing along the smooth metal of her braces. You break apart for a quick gasp of air, diving back into her as her body writhes in your grip. You fumble with the bow at the back of her neck, letting the front of her dress drop away as her gloved hands tear your shirt open. Skin presses against skin as you embrace each other; hearts beating in sync as you enjoy the other’s heat.

	She pulls away, panting and trembling as she tugs the crumpled dress past her waist. With a little awkward repositioning it finds its way to the floor, and she returns to your lap; shaking as her hands roam your exposed chest. Without the flare of the fabric you can’t help but realise how slender she really is. She almost looks frail. Your hands are suddenly much less eager to roam across her petite breasts and small hips, choosing instead to gently run along the pale skin and feel the bones beneath. She swallows, and pulls you closer; holding your worried face in her hands as she kisses you again. She tells you not to be afraid. Not to worry for her. She trusts you, after all. And she’s tougher than she looks. Her plain black panties grind against your crotch to emphasise her desire; her thighs quivering as she feels the hardness growing beneath her.

	Seiko gasps as your mouth latches onto the small dark bud of her nipple. She shivers in your hands as her hips rub and press along your own; stopping only so her hands can fumble your trousers open. You grope her subtle curves, kissing your way up from her breast to her neck as she bites her lip. Soft moans and small squeaks leak out from her as slender fingers stroke your cock through the fabric of your boxers. You pull her hips closer to you, grinding your hot, hard shaft against her; feeling the dampness grow as a long moan escapes her. Her hips roll and writhe against you as the silken hands return to your steadying shoulders. She whimpers as your teeth scrape along her collarbone; shakes as your fingers tug at the band of her panties; shudders as your curious thumb brushes past trimmed hair and over her sensitive clit.

	She leaps from you with a shocked jolt, apologising profusely. Your cock twitches as the warm pressure vanishes suddenly; you sit up and immediately ask her what’s wrong. She mumbles and fidgets as she dashes across the room to a set of drawers, hurriedly rummaging through. Your eyes land upon the large wet stain at her crotch, a little smile creeping onto your lips as her lean, panicking arse wiggles. The smile turns to a burst of laughter as she turns around; smiling nervously and holding several colourful squares in her hand. She rushes back to you, mumbling more apologies until you silence her with another kiss, and lets you pull her shivering frame back onto your lap. She fumbles with the one of the plastic squares, her silk gloves and shaken nerves disrupting her fingers. Gently, you take it from her and rip it open, offering the latex circle to her. She eagerly takes it, one hand pulling your cock upright. She seems to stall for a second, lightly rubbing your underside with her thumb as she stares at your manhood. You take the opportunity to tug away the sodden fabric of her underwear; her slick cunt glistening gently. You peck her cheek, snapping her out of her phallic trance. She mumbles another apology and slowly rolls the tight latex down your shaft; her gloved hand holding you upright as she positions herself above you. Your hands wrap around her bony hips and you flash her a concerned look. She looks down at down at your cock, biting her lip and nodding as a shiver of anticipation works its way through her.

	Low moans escape you both as her warmth envelops your cock. Her tensing muscles tighten her already narrow walls around you as you both slowly push against the other. Gradually more and more of your shaft slides inside her welcoming cunt; your hips bucking against your will as you try to hold back. Fuck, she feels so good. And judging from the way her moaning breaks into squeaks and shouts so do you. Her hands grab handfuls of your hair and pull you into kiss after kiss; each one breaking as another moan or cry of pleasure bursts from her. You don’t even have to guide her hips after a while as her desire spurs her on faster and faster. Even with the latex barrier the pressure at your base grows rapidly as Seiko slams herself down on your cock. Your ears are filled with the harsh slap of flesh on flesh, the ragged breathing from both your mouths and the wonderfully erotic cries of your silver haired partner. All you can see is her beautiful face contorted in ecstasy; her pale violet eyes begging and pleading for more and more and-

	It’s all too much. Try as you might you can’t stop yourself from plunging your entire length into her soaked folds, crying out as your cock pulses and throbs inside her. She hugs you close, gasping as you empty yourself into the cloying latex with a sequence of shudders. Her hips press against yours; her walls squeezing every last drop of hot cum from your quivering body. Your fingers dig into her flesh as you gently come down from your orgasmic high, panting and blinking. You lock eyes with her as the last spasms rockets along your shaft. Those gorgeous irises are still begging; still pleading with you. She bucks along your cock with quiver. You mentally curse yourself for being so quick. Slowly you pull yourself out of her; her whimper of protest turns to a shaky gasp as your fingers quickly replace the softening shaft. You curl and rub and stroke your fingers against her slick walls; thumb struggling to grind and press against her clit. Your technique is clumsy and haphazard, but she doesn’t seem to care: her head buries itself in your shoulder with a whimper, her slender thighs and skinny arms shaking as her needy cunt tightens almost painfully around your digits. A strangled cry bursts from her as every muscle tenses against you. After a few more body wracking spasms she finally breathes, slumping against you with a satisfied sigh.

	The two of you lie there, stinking of sweat and sex and basking in one another’s comforting warmth. Seiko nuzzles her face into your neck, her arms curling around your torso as yours gently pull her closer. Her slow, steady breath tickles your skin. You know that you should move. Your body is going to ache incessantly in the morning if you let yourself fall asleep here. She moves against you gently, murmuring in protest as you gently lift her from the couch. You can hardly believe how light she is as you carry her exhausted form to the bedroom. It doesn’t take you long to lay her down and pull the covers over. You make a move to leave, but a weak hand tugs at yours. You smile to yourself as it tugs again, before you relent and slide under the soft covers yourself. Her head quickly finds your shoulder again as your hands hug her frail body against yours. You close your tired eyes, planting one last kiss against her forehead, and let yourself fall asleep as you listen to her gentle heartbeat.