NIPPLE PIERCING | BAJI KEISUKE

NIPPLE PIERCING | BAJI KEISUKE

summary: you are an owner of a tattoo + piercing shop and a pretty boy books an appointment to get both. Reblogs are appreciated~

content warning: piercings and tattoo's, dom reader , pretty boy, semi-public, baji , i know nothing abt tattoo shops, I wrote this at 1:07 in the morning, reader is referred to master,{y/n}-

minors do not read! if you do you will be tainted ig? >:(

Working as a tattoo artist is not as easy as it seems. Sure, it lets your imagination run wild but the constant fear of disappointing your customers and ruining a tattoo is always there.

It's been a long ass day for you and you can't wait to skedaddle the fuck outa the shop, but God was remembering all the bad things you've done like come on man! Burning a child molester's house down with him in it is not a sin!

The sound of the bell in the shop chiming indicated that someone has entered the shop.

'I really need to change the closing time to 30 minutes earlier so they don't come in one minute before the closing time.'

Miss girl was done with life.

One thing great about being a female tattoo and piercing artist was that girls aren't afraid or that shy with you. That's why you more successful than yo big bro ;).

Sure you've had a couple o crushes and minor flings here and there but nothing was serious the other party knew this was not going to escalate more than a make out and neither did they disagree with that.

But boy was your last customer hot. He was panting with glossy sweat trickling down to his neck rose red tongue slightly sticking out and silky black hair looking like he just modeled for a Sunsilk ad. He has some good fashion sense too, with a midnight black choker with multiple silver chains attached to it , amber see-through shirt and lose marine blue jeans.

' Thank god I haven't closed yet! If i did i would have missed this amazing opportunity!'

" hey! What can i do for you?" You said in a slightly raspy and tired voice. And god, was that shit hot.

"Thank god Im not late....." The pretty boy muttered.

"Hey! I was thinking if you're not running late for anything and if you can..... May i get a tattoo and piercing please?"

"Where do you want to get it and do you have a picture of what you want to get?"

" I went it on my chest and the piercing i wantitonmynipple " his words were fumbled and you can't exactly understand them

" honey im gonna need you to speak a little slower on the piercing part"

" I want piercing on ...... my ..ni- nipples" Finally he got the clogged up words out of his mouth but he feels pretty embarrassed about having to say that in front of a lady that is so pretty godly amazing eye-catching magnificent wonderful blessed seggs- ok i'll stop >:).

" OHHH you wanna nip piercinmg? Don't worry hon i've done piercing on a few girls before but not on a guy that's a handsome as you~"

He was ready to bomb himself for the embarrassment but the praise sent blood gushing to his cheeks and especially t his dick-

"Come'on hun gotta lay down... unless you want it standing up"

You tried easing the stranger which you found out his name is keisuke. A hot name for a hot stranger-

the tattoo was easy a feathery arrow with a small pair of chopsticks acting as it's bow.

You deid to innturupt the silence.

" yu know? Funny how a few hours ago a blondie asked for the same tattoo as you. You know em' ?"

"Did he have an undercut and greenish blueish eyes?"

"so you do know him..... a tat for best friends?"

"yeah........BUT IT WAS A DARE"

Keisuke looked like he is pretty embarrassed about getting the tattoo but you find it adorable how eyes darting from left to right wanting to meet anything but yours, the tip of his ears are dusted with a coat of rosy pink.

'if his ears and neck are such a beautifully flushed shade of pink i wonder how flushed his dic- Y/N STOP BEGONE HORNY THOUGHTS'

Stuck in your........ interesting thought process, you couldn't hear baji calling you.

"-Y- EY- HEY? Miss tattoo artist? I've been calling you quite afew times..... are you okay? And you've already finished my tattoo...."

oh. i'm done with his tattoo? since when?

Oh. OH- it's time for the piercing-

I know that I've done this a shit ton of times but gah damn I feel like a train wreck.

A speck of flush sprinkled on his cheeks 😏 as he slowly almost as he was teasing you pulled his shirt off.

OH MA LAWDY LAWD IS THIS MAN 🙏 so damn fineeeee😫😫😫 meaty arms that flex unconsciously as he moves to cover himself pecs that look like real boobies #stanmanboobies.

"s-stop starina-hh"

it's as if your hands had a mind of theyre own. Moving the pads of your fingers around his cotton pink nipples. Steadily swirling them to the background music of the shop. "take it slow put it down on me" and indeed you took it slow just like the lyrics had said.

You ripped of your shirt which now left you with only a sports bra, and climbed on top of the pretty boy. Ploddingly grinding on his rampant crotch you took the tie that was ripped off with the shirt and tied his wrist together.

"M-mas-ter-r sto-p teasiNG"

Master. Master was all he said and only that was needed to makeyou loose all self control.

"you're so sensitive baby~" the tiredness in your voice vanishing instantly and getting replaced with a mischievous tone.

"master please please please PLeASe"

"please what baby i don't know what you're saying" you almost started feeling bad as you know you were being a little mean but KEY WORD: ALMOST.

"ma-master..." keisuke looked ashamed of saying it out loud but you weren't gonna move unless he says it. #airforceenergy #periot

Keisuke looked into your eyes clearly flustered but says it anyways.

"master please ride my dick suck it DO WHATEVER. JUST PLEase use me...." voice gradually shrinking, he pleaded with the last braincell he had.

Dear minors,

If a blog says “MINORS DO NOT INTERACT” please respect that persons decision and don’t interact. Most nsfw blogs (including myself) aren’t comfortable with minors interacting with their blog that has 18+ content. Sometimes you can ask the creator if you can interact with their non nsfw content, but at the end of the day it’s the creators decision and their blog if they want you on their blog or not. Please also respect their wishes when they ask you to not interact with their content.

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#rea this #rebloged #not mine

YALL I CAN'T GET OVER HOW GOOD THIS BOOK THANG IS

OUR CASTLE IN THE SKY — kakucho

𖨆♡𖨆 kakucho x fem!reader

¥ hounded by the tenjiku gang for aiding naoto tachibana on his beloved sister’s murder case, you come face-to-face with its top heavenly king one night in a dreary alleyway that changes your life—forever.

$ DARK CONTENT, MDNI, reader gets kidnapped by kaku, kaku is an assassin, future tenjiku timeline, Stockholm Syndrome, bondage, Dom/sub undertones, pushing my closet perv kaku agenda, service dom!kaku, pussywhipped!kaku, dubcon, noncon, hints of cnc (consent non consent), dubcon recording, gunplay, knifeplay, overstimulation, cumplay, facials, cum eating, cunnilingus, blowjobs, fingering, humiliation, degradation, tease and denial, edging, creampies, begging, gags, pet names (too many to count), mentions of pregnancy, blood, torture, mentions of food, mentions of injury, mentions of past trauma, mentions of murder, mentions of rape, greasy underground talk, language, explicit smut, heartbreak, mentions of abortions, mentions of guns, a smoke bomb, soft sex

≈ 23k+ words

The night sky was moonless.

No sliver of light was permitted past dense clouds to illuminate your still figure leaning by a wall, breathing heavily. 

Asshole.  

When you had gotten the coordinates to a safehouse that was hidden from Kurokawa Izana, you were sure it would be the right place to rest. To ease your restless soul after days on the road with nothing but fear and adrenaline as a steady diet. The shake in your hand was insurmountable, and you clenched your fists, bitten nails digging into your rough palms. 

After days of being on the run, you were worst for wear and looking more worn down. It was not your fault that you had no access to running water or a safe place to rest your head. Your hair was mused and tangled, dark circles hanging from your eyes and the stench of one too many cups of coffee on your breath. Someone could pass you on the street and mistake you for a lunatic on the loose from an institution.

You made sure to never stay in one place for long. 

But, you had to backtrack. 

As one of the city’s top analysts, you were on the beck and call of multiple police precincts. From criminal geolocational footprints to bank statements holding incriminating evidence, your services were used far and wide by bodies of law looking to uphold the balance of justice. Little did you expect that a side project you took on for a detective called Naoto Tachibana would spiral you into this fate.  

It started with a bullet in your mailbox that had your name etched on the side. After that, dead animals started showing up in front of your apartment, and the moment you realised how far you had already waded into the deep end, it was far too late. 

Kurokawa Izana, one of the Tokyo’s most notorious gang’s leader, had set his sights on you and there was nothing that could dissuade him.

You had stayed in one position for far too long. 

Tightening your grey trench coat around your shoulders, you ducked your head down. The swollen clouds gave way to light patters of rain and you shuddered, cursing the impending downpour that exacerbated your hair’s bedraggled state. 

Shivering now from the biting cold, you turned the corner and almost screamed. 

A man, hidden half in shadow and half in light, peeled himself from the wall adjacent to your escape. You didn’t have to fully glimpse at him to know who the notorious assassin was.

Hitto Kakucho, one of Tenjiku’s heavenly kings and Kurokawa Izana’s most loyal dog fixed you to the spot with his heterochromatic eyes.

Red and white. Dark and light. The scar running down his face aggravated his mean mug; you had heard about how he had gotten that laceration. Cement truck collides with family of three coming back from a vacation. You had read the archived papers on him back when you were in the thick of your research on the elusive Tenjiku gang. Never in your worst nightmares would you have guessed that you would be staring into the eyes of its deadliest king. 

I’ll always look out for you. A vivid recollection of his subdued blue hues shining with sincerity. You’re under my protection, Y/N, and I will never let Tenjiku hurt you, no matter what. Tears sprang in your eyes. Liar. You stumbled back into the hard brick wall, the hopelessness of your situaiton seeping in. You fucking liar, Naoto Tachibana. 

“L/N Y/N.” His hands were stuffed in his pocket, the drizzle clinging to the ends of his midnight blue strands and tip of his shapely nose. His plush lips were set in a hard line, and you had no doubt that in his hand, hidden in those lapels, was the pistol that would end your life. 

A deer frozen in headlights had a better chance of survival than you did in this situation. Where others would run or try their hardest to fight for their life, you remained rooted to the spot, wide-eyed and unmoving. The world’s most pliant prey.  

He probably thinks I’m easy. But, then again, it wouldn’t matter what Hitto Kakucho thought of you now. You were as good as dead; now, no one would find out your fate becasue Tenjiku’s strongest was just that good at covering up his tracks. How many nights had you gone over bizarre murders and freak accidents? Men whose bodies were burned beyond dental records, teeth pulled out and crushed into fine powder. Women who went missing because they reported to the police on disturbances down in Yokohama bay.  

The one string of red they had connected to them was apparent—each of them tried and failed to go against the might of Tenjiku. 

And now, you would be just another notch in their deadly tally. 

You resigned yourself to your fate, meeting death head on. Squaring your shoulders, you narrowed your eyes at him, unwilling to back down and greet your ending like a snivelling cry baby. Taking it on the chin like a good agent would; like your father had once done when he served the badge, unafraid and valiant till the end. 

You took in a deep breath and exhaled in equal measure, your voice steady and firm when you returned his greeting. “Hitto Kakucho.” 

•

Kakucho was perturbed that you were not making a run for it. 

Most men twice your size would have tried to bolt away, only to be blown right in the head from his unmissable killshot. Yet, here you were, still standing albeit trembling violently. 

The top of your head barely brushed his shoulder, and yet, the brazen manner in which you held his gaze could be admired, if the gun in his hand did not weigh heavily with the strain of his mission. 

Izana’s drawl ran in his mind: Find that bitch and end her, Kaku. Naoto cannot get an advantage over us. 

It was against his moral code to ever touch or harm a woman, and his king knew this. Then why, Kakucho’s glare wavered—why did Izana send him out on this mission when other men wouldn’t think twice of lodging a bullet into a woman’s skull? 

(After they had their fill of them, of course).

He heard the stories—of women battered and bruised beyond recognition, their dignities stripped away and their bodis dumped at the side of the road like carcasses. Kakucho stayed away from those men who didn’t have a shred of compassion left in them, despite how his own streak of kindness was as slim as it came. As much as he was a vile beast, Kakucho remained staunchly firm that women and children were off limits from his cruelty. 

His mismatched eyes flickered up and down your frame. Tinier than him, with not a shred of muscle or sign of strength that he could find observe from your trembling form. Easy prey. He turned the gun in his hand, debating if he should make this quick or draw it out. Since Izana did not give him explicit instructions to torture you, he settled on the former and was about to remove his gun when you cried out.

“Don’t!” 

Kakucho halted his movements, dual-tone eyes flashing.

The woman before him struggled to form her words, and he knew deep in his bones that he should end her right where she stood to avoid any more conflicting emotions, but something about the shine in your eyes and the pucker of your mouth stopped him. 

“I know you must think I have it out for your gang,” you started, “But, that’s furthest from the truth. I can help you.”

Never in his life had a victim so casually walk up to him. Not even the most hardened yakuza gang members had this much courage to face down Tenjiku’s underboss, and here was a woman who was half their height and weight stepping forward, determination lining her features. 

“You need an insider to Tokyo PD, right? I can—”

“Are you turning sides? In front of me?” 

You clamped your mouth shut, aware of how Kakucho’s loyalty preceded him. Close enough to be Izana’s mad dog, but still firm in his standing to expect the same fidelity from his men. You had to tread carefully.

He doesn’t give you time to retort, and your back meets the wall, a squeak ripped from your mouth and bouncing off the dingy alleyway. Immediately, one leather-gloved hand slapped muffled your cries and your eyes flashed, staring up at your assailant. Waiting for him to pull the trigger and end your life right where you stood. 

But, Kakucho did not do such a thing.

He studied you, like how a scientist would to a specimen that was baffling them. Those incongruous eyes flickered across your features, tracing them again and again until you felt flayed open for him. 

If his hand was not clamped around your mouth, you would’ve asked him what his deal was. 

“You’re not afraid of me,” his deep voice rumbled in your ear, and you surpressed a shiver. You sensed that it was imperative for your life that you held his gaze. Feisty. He liked it. There weren’t many people in this world who were brave—and stupid—enough to underestimate his ferocity, but Kakucho was a man that treasured oddity. “I’m letting you speak, but if you scream, you’re eating a bullet.” 

He removed his hand and you gasped, your shaky fingers grazing your chin. With your heart thudding a mile a minute in your ribcage, you were completely floundering at his unusual show of mercy. As far as your findings concluded, Tenjiku was a ruthless gang which chewed and spat out anyone who was deemed far weaker than them. You decided not to squander your chance and cleared your throat. 

“I know the connections you have. Hotels, spas, restaurants, financial trade. But, what you’re missing is a hub. A person who can manage and control every aspect and who has a history of coding and hacking. If you kill me now, you probably won’t the chance of finding someone like me who is willing to help.” 

He took a step back, raising a brow. Deliberately, he swept aside his coat lapel, the glint of his gun in its holster stealing your attention. Silently telling you: don’t try to pull anything funny, bitch. 

You didn’t, firm in your stance. 

Kakucho looked you up and down, and before you could react, he grasped your hands together, forcefully spinning you around; your cheek slammed into the closest wall, jarring your chin and knocking your head back.   

You gasped, “What—”

“Shut up.” 

You had barely had time to scream when a zip tie was procured from his pocket and he bounded your hands together, pulling them tightly so you could not even squirm in the restrictions. Your mouth was stuffed with something and a separate cloth was pressed to your nose, filling your senses with pungent fumes. 

“Mhm!” your struggles barely roused him. Your head started spinning and it had nothing to do with your stolen vision. What’s happening to me? 

The world tilted on its axis, and you fell into the blackhole of your mind.

Losing consciousness in the blink of an eye. 

•

“—done.” 

You tilted your head to the side, slowly lolling it to the front as your lucidity came back piece by piece. 

“Yes, the girl is dead.” A pause and you chose the most inopportune time to groan softly. “Oh. That was just one of Ran’s whores.” There was a clipped silence where he did not say anything more. “Sure. Thanks, boss.”

In your line of vision, his boots sharpened from a blur to aching focus, and you gasped, snapping your head up and trying to shoot back to your feet when something restrictive held you back. Your heart sank. Ropes. Like a dead carcass hanging to dry, your arms were held over your head, feet bound together and your body swaying slightly as you tried to find your equilibrium. 

You were in a room of some sorts, with a wide bed draped in black satin sheets unfurling behind you, your arms held up with some rope through a ceiling hook protruding from the low wall. In front of you, Akasaka spread herself out like a glittering whore, the city’s lights drowning out your fear and leaving you almost blinded. 

Kakucho sauntered over to you, even deadlier up close. His stare was unyielding and he toyed with a knife in his right hand. You barely had time to react when his next words rattled you to your core. 

“Unfortunately, you’re dead now.” The underboss’ words rang in your ears, and you cried out when he gathered the front of your trench coat, tip of the blade hovering dangerously close to your throat. 

“Please—” you barely had time to choke out when he raised the knife and sliced it through… your clothes? 

The loud tearing of your trench coat stunned you in disbelief and a new wave of fear rose when your outerwear slipped apart to reveal your bare body. There was no telling who was more surprised—you or him when your nipples hardened under his scrutiny.

“You—” words eluded him and Kakucho swallowed hard. You had never seen a yakuza go red in the face like this. “You’re naked… underneath this coat?” 

He trailed the last part off into a question, as if the answer was not obvious itself. You made a strangled sound in the back of your throat that was halfway a shriek and a moan, hiding your face behind your arms. 

“What the fuck—”

“I had no time to even change after my shower,” your voice trembled, but you managed to get the words out miraculously in one coherent sentence. “Your men hounded me for days and I… that is to say—”

“Save it,” though his tone lacked its usual biting edge. He darted his eyes from your face to the ground, blatantly ignoring your bare chest in front of him. “Thought I could get rid of that ugly coat—” he trailed off, suddenly unable to bear your proximity. 

Kakucho stepped back, expression hardening. It was sickening, but he had a job to do. So, he was going to use your bare body as a leverage to get the answers to his most burning questions. 

Tightening his grip on the pummel, he advanced closer to you, so impossibly close, you could lean forward and press your lips to his. “Start talking, or else I’ll leave you naked right here, hanging for days.” 

The shame burnt through you like an inferno and you hiccuped on a sob when he poised the sharp tip right at your protruding soft belly, where the rip of the seam ended. 

“I-I was approached by Naoto Tachibana to help him solve the murder of his sister.” Those words unrburdened themselves from your lips like a confession. “And he wanted some dirt on Tenjiku to build enough evidence to raid your warehouse. That’s why I was hired. Not to harm any of your men, just for i-information.”

Your shining eyes and gasping mouth told him that it was no lie. 

But, Kakucho was raised from a young age to never trust anyone besides Izana. The knife sawed through the seam, and your shriek bounced off his bedroom, rattling his eardrums. 

“Information? Is that what you call hacking our systems and jamming our comms?” The sound of clothe tearing was deafening in the stark silence. “Answer me, Y/N.” 

“Y-yes,” you gasped out, eyes screwing close, face turned away in pure shame that a man was savoring the sight of your body so freely; how openly he was toying with you. The scrunch of your brow, the tears beading in the corners of your eye should’ve told Kakucho that you were terrified and wanted him to stop. But, he did not miss the slight stuttering of your hips, how your breath hitched a little higher when he ran the blunt edge of the knife down your bare belly. 

You loved this, it dawned on him in realization. You loved being taunted with danger. 

That was treacherous information in his hands. And he used it well. 

Kakucho was no stranger to finding out a person’s weakness and using it for his own advantage. Part of the thrill of interrogating a suspect was to report on his findings and let his underlings handle the dirty work of torture, his job as an upper executive finished and he could wash his hands off clean to attend to other matters. But, on the rare occasions, Izana would ask him to personally handle the tormenting of a suspect on his own and he was not one to defy his King. 

Until now. 

The white-haired leader of Tenjiku had no idea that the little snitch Tachibana employed was in his luxurious penthouse, tied from his ceiling; gasping and flinching like a whore in heat when he traced a pattern on your pubic bone with the tip of the knife, dangerously close to your glistening pussy. 

Shit. As much as he wanted to ignore it, the call of your twitching clit and beads of slick dripping down your thighs was hard to tear away from. Kakucho was Izana’s loyal slave, but he was also a man. A man who was now conflicted on what to do with this brand new information you presented to him when you sobbed out, “Stop, please—Naoto was just using me to find more dirt on Toman because they killed Hina.” Your shoulders shook with unrestrained sobs, your disheveled hair falling into your face. “Toman murdered his sister.” 

A ploy of revenge. Of course. The knife stopped in its motion from nearly running down your inner thigh, and you dared not breathe. 

“I see.” 

You hiccuped back a soft cry. “Please, let me go. Let me go and I won’t tell on you. I won’t—”

“I can’t do that.” The glint of his knife was back to your throat and you spluttered in fear. “If I do, I won’t guarantee that the next man from Tenjiku who finds you would be kind enough to keep you alive for this long.”

You were prepared for the white-hot slash through your jugular, for your blood to spew out and the rusty metallic tang to drown your lungs.

Kakucho did not such thing. He retracted the knife, midnight blue bangs falling into his eyes and almost covering his scar. Almost making him look human. “You’re just collateral damage. Our real fight is with Tokyo PD. I’m sorry you were caught in the crossfire.” 

He turned around, about to leave when you stopped him with a loud cry of wait! 

“You can’t just leave me here,” the panic in your voice made you stumble over your words. “People will start to suspect I’m gone. My job would report me missing, I… I have parents,” you choked out. “I have a dying grandmother and I have a life. You won’t get away—”

One second, you were on a passionate tirade and the next, a gloved hand was squeezing your neck. “I told you,” his silken, deep voice caressed your ear, “You’re dead now. I found another girl with the same body and slit her throat. She’s buried in the back of Izana’s mansion as we speak and no one will know it’s not you because you’re not important enough.” He dug his fingers deeper into your windpipe. 

“You’re a dot in our plans. You mean nothing to Izana—why did you think he got me to chase you down and not one of our underlings? Naoto wouldn’t care if you were dead or gone, he’d just find another poor hacker to take your spot. Your disappearance would soon be announced, and yes, your parents will grieve. Your grandma might die because of the heartbreak and they would mourn her and you. But, that’s it. They can’t bring you back. You’ll just be a memory because right now, you’re a living ghost.” 

He released his clutch on your throat and you spluttered, sobs turning into wails when the reality of his words settled in. Because he was right. There would be no one to mourn you. You had ran away from Hokkaido, far from your little country side and tried to make it big in Tokyo. The last time you saw your parents, you had a screaming match with them that resulted in broken plates shattered on the floor, like your trust in your family. 

They would not care for you. Kakucho was right. You were nothing but a living ghost. 

A ghost only he could see.  

What he did to you was worst than death, because he had dragged you into a limbo. Not alive, nor dead. Only holding onto the thread of his willingness to keep you alive for as long as he wanted. 

He let you sob in your bonds, leaving the room with your bare chest heaving, your wet cheeks and equally sopping pussy dripping tears and slick onto the pristine marble floor. 

The door closed behind you and you screamed, throwing your head back, the impact of his words shattering your soul into pieces, your resolve crumbling just like your lucidity when you succumbed back into the comforting darkness. 

•

Kakucho ran a damp clothe down the battered woman’s face, swiping off the dirt and grime from her weeks of unease, scrubbing until her skin shone and he could take in her full features.

The curve of her lips, the flutter of her lashes and the parting of her sweet breaths drew something in him. 

The Tenjiku underboss was not one for sentimentality, but even the most hardened fools would cave when a fissure of their own humanity stared at them right in their face. 

Kakucho, save me! Brown eyes welled with tears screamed for him to turn around, to put a stop to Izana’s madness. Emma. Her name was Emma. He had almost spoken up—almost went against his king—when the gunshot put an end to her begging. Her body crumpled like a sandcastle struck by a wave, her blood scattering around in crimson puddles.

Jolting from his reverie at your fluttering eyes, he put down the clothe, lips pressed into a tight line. “Welcome back to the world of the living.” 

His dry mutter registered through your throbbing head, and you whipped around, trying to rise, but fell back onto the soft mattress when a force held you back. Staring down the length of your body, you were wrapped in a soft cotton t-shirt and a pair of boxers, your wrists loosely tied to the headboard as a safety precaution.

Fear, cold and sharp, stung your every pore. 

“No,” you cried out, thrashing your head side to side, jostling the small pail of water he placed by the edge where it clattered onto the floor, a dark stain seeping across his grey carpet. “Please—please let me go,” you were babbling now, “I’ll do anything—leave the country, change my name and never return to Tokyo. Just, please. Let me go.”

The sun was rising, painting the room in orange tones of a new beginning. But for you, the clouds of your past life had long receded and you were constantly on a loop of this nightmare, never to awake back to the reality you took for granted. 

Kakucho did not answer you, and you flinched when his hand settled on your shoulder. “I won’t. I’m sorry. I meant every word I said—Izana will hound you down faster the moment you set foot out of my apartment. I’m sorry to say, Y/N-san, but I’m the only one you have now, until I can devise a plan, okay?” 

You expelled a shaky sob, unable to look him in the eye. The scarred man sighed, running a hand through his disheveled dark hair. “I’ll be making breakfast in an hour.” You reined in your surprise when he released your wrists, bringing them to your front and massaging the blood back into your veins. “I’m sorry for keeping you tied up through the night. I don’t trust easily and you… well, just don’t try anything funny with me.” His warning echoed in the tightening of hands around your wrists. “Or else I won’t be as kind anymore.”

There was nothing you could do but nod. Kakucho spared you one hard look, and released your hands, turning his back to stand up and walk out of the bedroom. As much as you despised your current situation, you could not deny the hum of survival begging you to play nice and obey him if you were to ever escape in one piece. 

Compliance was written in your stance, your shoulders low and defeated, your gait slow as you shuffled out of his room and into a grand living room. The reports did not lie when they stated every Tenjiku top brass was loaded; Kakucho was no exception. The floor-to-ceiling windows brought the light of dawn splashing across his monochromatic grey walls. There was another level upstairs, and you could make out two rooms opposite from a long hallway. 

Kakucho was currently in the kitchen, busy over the stove and you watched in reproach as he brought out some miso paste and slathered it onto a pink salmon belly, turning the slab of fresh fish over his fingers as he rubbed the marinade in. A small rice cooker was happily steaming to one side and besides the fact that you were kept here against your will, it almost felt like you were waking up at a hookup’s house.

He peered at you, the kitchen island separating the both of you in divorced continents of weariness and distrust.

“Sit.” A gesture to the bar stool opposite of him. “Breakfast will be ready in a bit.” 

You tentatively did as he said, straddling the bar stool and keeping your eyes on his every move. Kakucho moved with a confidence you had never seen a man don as he worked the kitchen, the mouthwatering smells crumbling your resolve to not accept his kindness; especially when he set down a steaming bowl of rice, a plate of grilled salmon belly and a bowl of hot miso soup with a side of umeboshi, still curdling in its juices, ready and waiting for you. 

“Eat.” 

Choosing the path of least resistance, you picked up the chopsticks he passed to you, gingerly nudging the pinkened slice of fish. 

“I did not poison it, if that is what you’re thinking.”

You warmed from the insinuation, shooting him a glare. To demonstrate that you were far braver than you felt, you plucked a piece of fish and bit into it, letting the flavour saturate your tongue with its oily goodness; your eyes rolled back into your head slightly and you let out a soft groan, melting at the taste of real food after so long.

Kakucho watched as you ate ravenously, passing you a cup of green tea which you mumbled a hurried thanks and sipped from, having no idea how such a simple meal could fill you up. 

When you were done, you breathed deeply, setting your chopsticks down and bowing your head slightly. “Thank you for the meal.”

He scoffed. “Didn’t your parents teach you that you’re supposed to give thanks before inhaling your food?” 

You returned his glare, but it was softened by an edge of sated contentment. Your eyes drooped and you yawned. “Y-you didn’t put sleeping drugs in this, did’ya?” 

His expression cracked, a sliver of a smile on those plush lips. So, he can show emotion. “No. I suppose its your adrenaline system finally relaxing after being on red alert for so long.” Gesturing to his room, he sighed. “Go and rest. I’ll be heading out for work. This house is a fortified space so don’t worry.” 

Just as you stood up, he paused, turning to face you. “And for fuck’s sake, don’t fucking do anything to harm yourself. I really can’t afford to get my upholstery scrubbed free of blood.” Nodding towards the window, he added, “Don’t even try to jump out, my window’s are password protected.” 

A man who covers his bases. You were impressed. “Wow. This is even more secure than a Russian jail. They would do good to consult you for security measures.”

He leveled you a look. “Don’t die.”

You spoke to his retreating back, sharp eyes cataloguing his swift movements of punching in a code on his door pad before grabbing his thick trench coat. “Hard not to when I’m literally in a fucking jail cell!” 

The door slammed shut. 

Bastard. You sank back against the counter, staring off into the distance. Fucking bastard. One quick shake off the tiredness and your sharp eyes scanned the area. Just like he said—everything was fortified and password protected. You were starting to think that Kakucho could be a tad bit neurotic if the situation called for it.

That’s how he got so high up the ranks in Tenjiku. 

A man of meticulous measure and careful consideration. Definitely the right material for an underboss. 

You sighed, plucking an apple from the golden wire basket sitting prettily in the centerpiece of his island and sank your teeth into the waxy flesh, its sweet juice coating your tongue.

Looks like I’m going to be here for a while. 

•

Kakucho hurried up the stairs, mind deadset on his his apartment, his boots skidding on the cool floor from the haste. 

All day, he was haunted with visions of finding your dead body hanging from the ceiling, a makeshift noose around your blue neck. Your bulging eyes, bloody wrists and drowned body filled his mind with dread, and he almost broke down the door when he stumbled into the living room. Only to find you reading on the couch. 

You startled at the noise, and slammed the book shut, gripping his blanket closer to your chin.

“Oh,” you blinked, “S’you.”

He exhaled, straightening his back. Today, he was clad in all black from head to toe, his structured trench coat shed off his broad chest and shoulders. “Thought you offed yourself,” he grunted.

“And miss out on the wonders of Murakami prose,” you held an orange paperback up, laughing mirthlessly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He ignored your thinly veiled jab and hung his coat from the wooden peg. “Let me cook dinner.”

“I’ll do it.”

Kakucho admitted he was wary from your sudden charitable intentions. You did not shrink back when he strode towards you, keeping your gaze locked on his. 

Unafraid. Just how he preferred it. 

That changed when his hands grasped your hips. You gasped, almost falling into his chest when he steadied you, running a brisk line down your body, feeling you up, palming your breasts, your stomach and even groping your clothed pussy. “What the hell—”

It was over just as it began. Kakucho clicked his tongue. “Needed to check for any poison pills on you.”

“And how do you think I would get it?” you shrieked, stumbling back and wrapping your arms around your heaving chest. “By teleporting out of this goddamn penthouse? You’re out of your mind, Kakucho.”

He froze. Like the first time you said his name in the alleyway, the cadence of your voice making up those syllables and consonants left him reeling. Common sense had left the room the moment he lifted you up by your thighs, putting you down onto the hard, marble counter.

Your cries were smothered by his lips, tasting of nicotine, coffee and something musky that was entirely him. “Mhmph—!” 

Slapping your hands on his broad chest did little to deter his fire. Kakucho pinned your body down to the cold surface, the hem of his cotton t-shirt riding up to expose the spill of your belly. His wandering hands made quick work of your tugging your boxer shorts down, and you shrieked, turning your head to break the kiss and shouting, “Kakucho—s-stop!” 

“You were creamin’ onto my floors yesterday, darlin’,” he panted into your mouth, turning your face so he could roughly steal of your lips again. Resisting was futile, not when your body was at an all out war against your rationale. 

I need to push him away. 

Your thighs parted for him when he pressed the hard line of his body onto yours. 

No, I need him. 

Kakucho could feel you giving in to the lust he had stirred inside of you yesterday, the sensation back with a vengeance, this time demanding for more. You parted your mouth and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your gasping cavern. Strong hands kneaded your hips and you tilted your head back, hands fisting in his dark hair to drag his face right into the crook of your neck.

“Needy,” he mumbled flush on your pulse point, taking the hint to suck and nibble on the sensitive skin until it throbbed. “Bet you liked it when I played with you yesterday, huh? Wanted me to run that knife over your pretty pussy, huh?” 

You throbbed at his words, mind running rampant with images of you bound once more for his pleasure. As if he read your thoughts, the scarred man snapped his belt off and wound it around your wrists, dragging it behind your back. Keeping his eyes locked your lust-blown wide ones, he stretched a hand out towards the knife stand on the right hand corner of the island, grabbing a medium blade and lifting it right to your face.

“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” 

You seized when the blunt edge touched your throat again, the tip tracing the shape of his mouth on your skin; dragging down the length of your body and straight towards your uncovered pussy. “Nggh—!” you huffed, whining when he dangled the knife right atop of your slickened pussy, the blunt edge gently running down the seam of your flushed folds.

The cold contrasted cruelly with your overheated skin and you cried out, head tossed back and bound arms twitching when he circled the sharp tip against your inner thighs. 

“Kakucho—”

“Don’t speak unless I give you permission to.”

You snapped your mouth shut, frustrated tears beading in the corners of your eyes. Muffling your whimpers was hard considering you were close to erupting in a fiery orgasm right when the pressure of the blade increased against your inner thigh.

A spot of blood emerged from the punctured flesh and the sharp pain was replaced by Kakucho’s tongue soothing the wound. “Fuck,” he hummed against the plush fat of your thighs. “Wanna taste you, baby.”

You don’t get to deny him—not when you were in a position like this. 

The boxers was torn away, blunt fingernails raking up and down your thigh, catching on your puncture wound once or twice. You shivered when the minute bite of pain transformed into pleasure, your entire body arching like a taut bowstring against the cool marble, eyes rolling back into your skull. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, breath ghosting your pubic bone. “Smell s’good, darlin’.”

His words were a precursor to his next actions, rough tongue parting your creamy slit to scoop up your wetness and messily swallow it down. No noises were born between you two beyond your ragged breathing and occasional whines; the smacking of his lips on your wet flesh as he ate you out heartily like a dying man in a desert loud in the heated silence. 

In this prone position, there was nothing you could do but take his torment, you bound wrists twisting in the leather hold of his expensive belt, your slick pooling freely on his tongue and thighs pressed to his shoulders, muffling his ears. 

You would confess that not many men had the power to make you squirm and unravel this quickly, but you were coming to find out that Kakucho was of a different breed.

He ate you out like his pleasure depended on you cumming on his tongue, your thighs trembling and hips circling. You didn’t bother masking your cries, letting them bounce off his walls; hell bent on relieving the aching ball right in your lower belly that demanded to be released. 

Your shirt was torn cleanly into two, the loud ripping noise barely phasing you when your chest heaved and nipples circled into stiffness. He pinched and plucked those sensitive peaks until they were blushing from his erotic provocation, tongue playing with your clit, dipping teasingly into your gaping hole. 

Kakucho was an expert at drawing out your pleasure, keeping you tottering right at the edge, and when you were about to plunge headfirst into a screaming orgasm, he pulled back. 

Bastard. Kissing you soundly, you panted into his mouth, your needy whines like the sweetest notes to his ears. You couldn’t find it embarrassing to taste yourself from his tongue when you were writhing and creaming like a bitch in heat on his cold countertop, begging for a morsel of release to be bestowed onto you. 

But, he did not give in, sitting you up and unwinding the bonds from your wrists. His cock was a stiff tent, and he paid it no mind. You were not bold enough to beg him to fuck you, and so you watched with wide eyes as he chuckled lowly, swiping his fingers on the marble surface. It came back wet and sticky with your slick, and you whimpered when he pressed the calloused pads of his soiled digits right to your plush bottom lip. 

The taste of salt and skin ignited on your tongue, drawing out the unbridled lust in you to keep sucking on his fingers while you stared deeply into his eyes. 

“Good girl,” his praise was uttered quietly. “So pretty like this. You like being an obedient pretty thing for me?” 

Mindlessly, you nodded. And in that minute surrender, he knew he had his first hook in you. 

“Go get cleaned up,” Kakucho nodded towards the bathroom. You unglued your limbs, mechanically taking one step forward, and another. Not paying attention to your torn clothes that fell like wilted butterfly wings onto the floor; your mind filled with nothing but the thoughts that maybe you could rub one out while in the shower. It’s not like he would know.

“Don’t even think of touching yourself.” You turned to find him leaning against the counter, looking so unfairly gorgeous with his stupid pretty face and stupid pretty scar and stupid pretty muscles bulging from his tight, dark dress shirt that was stained at the collar with your juices. “If you do, I can’t promise you I will ever let you cum again.” 

You froze, the idea that his tongue would not rasp against your flushed folds leaving you quietly despairing.

“Go,” he murmured, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. 

Will you not join me? 

You held your tongue, trying to tame the desperation flaring in your veins. He is the enemy, Y/N. 

Shakily, you continued towards the luxurious bathroom. But, why did I want him to finish what he started? 

The door locking shut was at odds with your irrational desire to leave it open, in case Kakucho changed his mind. 

If he would change his mind. 

Stubborn bastard, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, frowning at the disheveled air you held—the marks blooming on your neck. Stupid, handsome bastard. I hate him.  

As you slipped two shaky fingers between your puffy pussy lips, gathering the slick to circle around your swollen clit, you stopped when his words of warning rang in your mind. No, you didn’t, you sobbed softly and removed your sticky fingers, setting your hand down on the bathroom countertop and curling it into a fist at the aching realization. You didn’t hate him. 

•

Days passed and you could no longer deny your latent attraction to Kakucho. 

The morning sun would greet you as a constant in his arms, his bare chest underneath your cheek, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You would flutter your eyes open to find him already awake, mismatched orbs softening at the edges when he took in your sleepy countenance. 

Then, he would start to kiss you; breaths shared as one, desperate hands molding onto each others skin, raking down muscles, scars and shoulders. 

Afterwards, when he had completed his morning tasting your lips, Kakucho would make you breakfast, smiling when you prattled on, chuckling when you contradicted yourself with your hasty words. 

Domesticated, that was what it was. You both were far too domesticated for a man who in this harsh reality, had kidnapped you from your old life. 

Even after having you in such close proximity, he refused to fully claim you. Beyond that night when he had bent you across the kitchen countertop to eat you out while your hands were tied behind your back, Kakcuho had not showed the slightest interest in taking things up a notch. The confusion kept you on your toes, trying your hardest to subtly seduce him before he left you for the day, all alone in his apartment like a little puppy waiting for its owner to come back home.

This morning, you decided to forgo wearing your favorite pair of cotton panties and sat on the kitchen counter while he cooked, spreading your knees slightly. “What’cha making?” 

“Pancakes,” he mumbled, methodically pouring the batter in a perfect circle, ignoring your provocative position. You sighed, jumping off the counter and raising yourself onto the kitchen island instead, this time, spreading your legs fully so there was no mistaking your intention when the hem of his shirt rode up. 

Kakucho stopped fiddling with the pan, bi-colored orbs flashing and settling in between your bare thighs where a spot of moisture was beading from your twitchy entrance, oozing and dripping down your plush folds in a slow and unhurried manner, much like how you flipped your hair back and pinned your sultry gaze on him.

The scarred man flickered those beautiful eyes to yours, the emotions in them unfathomable. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

In answer, you leaned back even more, a lazy smile quirking on your lips (those lips that he so desperately wanted to devour again). 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you raked your fingernails slowly down your thigh, his hungry stare on your languid movements thrilling you in a dark way. “I’m offering you a better breakfast.” 

He was on you in a matter of seconds. Kakucho hurriedly flipped off the stove and pawed for your waist, wrapping his arms around your form and stealing your gasp with his bruising kiss.

“Fuck,” he moaned in between a tangle of your tongues dancing together, “Fuck, want you s’much.”

You tugged on his hair, tilting your head back, his palms hot and ready on the small of your waist. “Then, take me,” your answering gasp earned a low groan from him. 

“G’na be the death of me,” he mumbled, ripping his shirt from your frame, leaving you fully bare on his kitchen counter again. You found you liked being in this position; thighs wrapped lovingly around his narrow waist, his stiff bulge pressed flush to your core, teasing you with tight circles, mouthing open kisses onto your heated neck. “Need you now, baby.”

Baby. The term of endearment was not lost on you, especially when he followed it up with a sweet kiss squarely on your mouth. I’m his baby. 

You cried out when one long and thick finger circled your entrance, smearing your wetness around and lightly toying with your clit, before teasingly dipping into your aching pussy. 

“So tight and hot,” he groaned against your lips. “Gonna stretch out this cute little pussy real good, baby.” 

You whimpered, holding him and burying your face in his chest as he did exactly what he promised to do. Curling his finger deep inside of you, hitting your golden spot, stretching you more with another added digit. Kakucho was meticulous with his prep, his eyes never leaving your face, cataloging your expressions. 

He peppered your cheeks and chin with kisses, tender in a way you had never experienced with a man before. 

“I have a secret to tell you,” he murmured and you hummed in acknowledgement, droopy eyes snapping open in attention. “I’ve been dreaming of putting my ropes around you.” He smiled when your sweet pussy clenched down hard on his pumping digits. “Have you ever had a man stuff you full with a plug before? Put clamps on those cute, pert nipples? Let you suck him off while you’re all tied up like a pretty present?” 

You shook from the force of his fingering, your body unravelling quickly for him. It’s been so long since I last came. “No,” you hiccuped truthfully, eyes welling with tears. “N-no one has ever done that to me.” 

“Hmm.” You barely heard his little hum over the the sounds of your pussy squelching and taking his long, thick fingers well, your moans echoing off the pristine walls and almost touching the ceiling. Crying out, you reached for his wrist to ground yourself, and Kakucho let you, hiding his smile in the crook of your neck as you started to buck and writhe. Tell tale signs that you were about to cum hard for him. 

He stilled and you cried out, your impending orgasm crashing into nothingness all around you. 

Kicking your feet, you bit down on a wail, muffling your sounds of displeasure with the palm of your hand. Kakucho didn’t give into your temper tantrums, choosing to kiss you sweetly on the forehead while you hiccuped and blubbered for him to please fuck me. 

“I can’t, I’m late for work,” he mumbled, kissing you once more, pressing his lips into a line to stop himself from chuckling at your teary eyes. “Later when I come back, we’ll discuss our relationship, okay?” His sincerity could be felt in the light graze of his fingertips on your temple. “I meant what I said—that I want to try all those things with you.” Like before, he leaned forward, pressing a soft, chaste kiss on your swollen lips, a stark contrast to his next words that were lined with steel.

“If I find out that you touched yourself today, I’ll punish you until you can’t walk, angel.” 

You heeded his warning, but with every hour that whittled away with nothing for you to do but rest, eat, workout on his treadmill and watch Netflix, you grew even more restless. It was when you caught yourself staring at the clock for the second time in five minutes that you realized temptation was calling for you to disobey his rules.

It’s just a touch, the Devil on your shoulder deviously whispered, what he doesn’t know will not kill him. 

You were still in your workout clothes, sweat cooling from your body when you could not deny the need any longer. Dipping your fingers past the waistband of your yoga tights, you lightly grazed your fingers through your damp slit, moaning wantonly when you brushed your fingers over your swollen nipples. 

Imagining that it was Kakucho’s strong hands doing this for you instead, you pushed your sports bra up, freeing your heaving tits, immediately toying with one stiff peak. You muffled a whimper by biting on your lip, turning your head to the side. The clock hanging above the front door showed that it was still 4 o’clock and it would be hours before he came home. You stretched your legs out, rubbing your glistening cunt and praying that the front door would not suddenly burst open. 

You were far too exposed; touching yourself right on his couch, your trembling thighs parted as the familiar rhythms of self-pleasure settled into you. Like returning back to a comfortable hearth, you ran a slick finger through your folds, focused on rubbing your clit while your free hand played with your stiff nipple.

Flicking your hardened nub, slipping one finger inside your already fluttering cunt, you were right at the precipice of falling down into the rabbit hole of intense pleasure, that you did not hear the front door creak open. Your gasps and loud moans drowned out the lock clicking and only when you cracked your eyes wide to find Kakucho at the foot of the sofa did it finally hit home. You were in so much trouble for defying his rules. 

Fuck. You scrambled to right yourself, removing your slick fingers from your yoga tights, and pushing your sports bra back down. “Kakucho, m’so sorr—”

“Quiet.” 

He tossed his keys onto the living room console and slammed the door shut. Mechanical whirls along with the sound of the lock clicking shut was the final nail to the coffin, your mind reeling in unease. Though his words were harsh, his tone was not biting, and you watched as he removed his coat, hanging it on the closest wooden peg. 

While you tried to decipher his true emotions, Kakucho moved closer to you, his leather-gloved hand warm on your cheek. He always removes his gloves and boots. You were starting to hyperventilate. Is he going to kill me? Is that why he’s wearing those gloves… so he doesn’t leave a trace behind? 

Your thoughts screeched to a halt when he whispered: “Strip.”

The scarred man’s tone brokered no argument, and you rushed to your feet. He sank down on the sofa, legs spread wide, those incongrous eyes behind his circle glasses never leaving your figure. It was safer to not defy him, and you did as he said, firstly removing your damp sportsbra with a bit of difficulty, huffing when you finally got it off. Tossing the sweat-soaked piece of clothing aside, you eased the band of your Lululemon tights down your hips, past your thighs, down your calves and soon, kicked it to the other side of the room as well. 

Kakucho’s eyes raked up and down your bare body, and his expression was completely stony. “Everything has to come off, princess.”

You shivered at the mean undertones of his pet name and gulped, your fingers toying with the band of your panties. It was a simple cotton one, nothing too extravagant for your workout, and you half-wished you had worn something lacier and racier to seduce him. What the hell—he probably wouldn't care for what you were wearing anyway if he ordered you to strip right in front of him. 

Panties off, and standing shyly in front of him, Kakucho appraised you with dilated pupils and a quirk in his right brow. 

“Come here.”

No you look pretty or you’re so fucking gorgeous. Just a command. You were truly fucked now. 

Swallowing hard, you walked towards him, coming close enough for your thigh to brush his kneecap. 

“Kneel.” 

You settled onto your knees right in front of him, unsure of where to look so you chose to train your gaze to the ground. 

Apparently, he was pleased with your subservience. You could tell because his fingers wound around the nape of your neck, bunching in your hair and he tugged your head up to look him right in the eyes. Those beautiful red-white orbs were unreadable. Nothing was said for the next few seconds. Just him staring at you, and you trying not to burst out into tears. 

“So. You touched yourself, huh?” 

His tight grip in your hair did not leave you much room to nod, and you awkwardly bobbed your head instead. 

“Even when I told you not to?”

You bobbed your head again.

“Are you sorry?” 

Licking your lips, you nodded, shame burning hot in your veins. “I am.”

“Good.” He released his grip on your hair and if you were a dog, your ears would’ve perked up in disbelief at his quick pardon. But, your relief was shattered when he snorted quietly at your hopeful expression, standing up to his full height while you remained quivering on your knees, fists bunched on your lap, your neck craned uncomfortably to keep your eyes on him. 

“Because it’s time to take your punishment like a good girl now.” 

•

You had never realized how much bigger your lover was in comparison to you until he leaned against the edge of his desk, bi-colored eyes locked on the dildo stuffing your tight pussy to the hilt, his larger and muscular frame dripping in dominance. 

“Spread your legs wider.” 

You winced and rushed to comply, chewing on your ballgag desolately as you let his hungry stare devour the sight of your folds creaming around the monster cock.

He had made you bounce yourself silly on the hard toy, murmuring praises and encouragement, even playing with your swollen clit as you grunted and moaned around the bright red ball splitting your lips apart. But, like always, he stopped before you could reach the zenith of your pleasure. This time, to up his torment, he made you do it over and over and over again until your body was wrung out in exhaustion, almost limp from the denied pleasure buzzing loudly in your veins. 

The tip of his boot dragged between your flushed folds, and you tensed back to life, broken moans and more drool bubbling down your chin. “Look at you,” he clicked his tongue, shaking his head from side to side. His hair fell into his face in waves, giving him an angelic demeanour when his actions were born from the demonic thoughts of Satan himself. “Slobbering like a little slut. Tsk. Is this what you hide from the world? Behind your modest skirts, brains and books? Is it this easy to turn you into a hungry little cockslut, my princess?” 

You whined, straining against the rope harness he had tightened around you, your hands clasped primly behind your back while the jute wrapped your tits lovingly in meticulous diamond patterns.

No, your eyes screamed. I’m not a slut.

Kakucho pretended not to consider your struggles and continued stimulating you with his boot. “I thought you were stronger than this—less shameful. But, you’re such a twisted little whore, hmm? Creaming when a stranger ties you up. Gagging for an orgasm when I run a knife across your perfect body. It’s a good thing you landed in my hands, angel; if it were any other Tenjiku asshole, you would’ve been sold to the highest bidder and turned into their little breeding slut.” 

His words shimmered in your mind like water on hot stone, and you blearily flickered your fucked out gaze to his flashing ones. 

You were so good for him; riding the dildo with such vigor till sweat ran down your back, pooling together with your slick connected to the suction cup cock on his cold marble floors. Kakucho smiled fondly when your eyes rippled close, hips stuttering around the huge toy. You were almost to the edge. 

He increased the pressure and speed of his boot roughly rubbing onto your fat, pearly little clit, so swollen from the stimulation that it was a raw red. 

“So pretty,” he grunted. “Taking this so well.”

No! You expelled a loud cry when he ceased his movements, snapping his foot back to his side as he crossed his arms and stared down at you with mirth in his incongruous eyes. Bastard, bastard, bastard! 

You gurgled out his name, eyebrows pinched and hips twitching again. This was your, what—seventh ruined orgasm of the day? Not counting the one this morning, of course. 

Let me cum, your eyes begged him. Please, oh please, let me cum.

Your lover brushed the tears from the corners of your eyes, murmuring soothing sweet nothings that fell on your deaf ears. The toy grazed every sensitive spot in your walls, driving you quietly insane. 

“How bad do you want to cum, sweet girl?” 

The ballgag impeding your mouth did not stop you from trying to whine out so much, please, so, so much. It came out garbled—naturally—and Kakucho’s grin grew infinitesimally wider. 

“You sound so cute, y’know that,” he mumbled. You shifted on your knees, eyes bright and expectant, waiting for him to finally set you free from this torment of unrealised pleasure. Leaning down, Kakucho loosened your ballgag, letting it fall free from the confines of your mouth. You tensed your jaw, stretching your neck and trying hard to get some feeling back into your mouth muscles. 

“K-Kaku—” he rendered you speechless by what he did next. Lithe and veiny hands drifted to his dress shirt, undoing the buttons. Once his stacked torso and gleaming abs came into view, he unbuckled his expensive Armani belt and slipped it off, tossing it to the floor. Popping open the button of his slacks, he made it a show to drag down the zipper of his pants, knowing and enjoying how you were eyeing that short action with such rapture.

His cock sprung out, thick and veiny like him, and already leaking copious amounts of pre. A dollop of it oozed out from his weeping tip and smeared right onto your chin, and you fought back a whimper, every neuron in your brain pleading for him to stuff that fine length down your throat. 

Kakucho did not immediately give you his cock; dragging the bulbous head across your chin, your cheeks and slapping his length a few times against your waiting mouth, leaving a glistening trail smearing your features. You parted your swollen lips, tongue darting out to taste him and he stifled a groan at how easily you could tease his sticky tip. 

“So messy,” he breathed, and threaded his fingers through your hair. “All for me, huh?” 

You leaned forward, shifting the toy deeper in you to wrap your lips around his stiff, angry head and sucking. Hard. Kakucho tossed his head back, the lapels of his dress shirt shifting further down his shoulders, revealing more of his drool-worthy abs and the fine smattering of dark hair that led to his deep ‘V’ cut. Staring at him through half-mast eyes, he was a beautiful sight unraveling right into your mouth. 

“Shit,” he cursed lowly, husky voice going straight to your throbbing clit. “Fuck—mhm. So perfect for me.” 

Emboldened by his praise, you loosened your throat muscles, taking him in deeper down your soft gullet, till the tip of your nose was pressed to the course hair on his pubic bone.

“Fuck!” Kakucho bit out, a slight tremble in his thighs. His beautiful eyes squeezed shut, pretty face contorted in pleasure. “Y/N, you—mhm—fuck.” 

A part of you was thrilled and proud; reducing the taciturn and serious Tenjiku underboss into a gasping, blushing mess. Evidently catching your smug grin stretched around his cock, he decided to turn the tables on you.  

Something silver glinted in your periphery, and you jolted, almost lifting yourself off his cock when he tightened his grip in your hair. The slim nozzle of his gun appeared right in front of your eyes and panic encased you in its grasp, leaving you thrashing for air. Kakucho was kind enough to let you resurface, your loud gasps and gurgles echoing off the sleek, monochromatic study room. 

Before you could ask him what the fuck was going on, he pushed your head back down onto his cock. There was nothing you could do but force your throat to loosen, taking him right to the hilt.

“Hold it,” his unsteady whisper reached your roaring ears. 

Was he fucking serious right now? The ropes he wound around your torso were starting to hurt and your bruised knees shifted agonizingly from one bent calf to the other, alleviating the burn in your thighs. But did he care? Of course he didn’t. Why would he when his cock remained lodged down your soft gullet; spearing down the length of your throat and your breathless gurgles were all that he could hear past the blood roaring in his ears? 

The gun remained in your periphery and you prayed to every deity above that he would not choose this moment to kill you. Even as your pussy creamed even harder around the dildo, your thoughts going fuzzy around the edges. You were pliant for him once more. 

Kakucho brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, expression inscrutable. At least, you thought it was.

Your teary orbs did not hinder you from noticing how his eyes were sparking with an untamed emotion when he took in your barely clad and bound figure, nipples hard and waiting, mouth stuffed full with his cock. The nozzle of his silver Glock almost lovingly caressed your forehead, and he tapped the weighted metal once, twice on the rise of your skull. 

“Hold it,” his murmur was softer this time; less demanding. “Be a good girl and don’t choke on me… or else I’m pulling the trigger, angel.”

Doubling down on your efforts, you gurgled out a moan, moving your head from side to side as you tried to stimulate him with the back of your throat. Kakucho appreciated your efforts, and a small, sadistic grin stretched across his lips. You were such a wrecked sight on your knees, he was almost sorry. 

Almost. 

Spit slicked down your chin, drooling onto the floor. He didn’t have to fully look down to find your hips pumping and swirling over the fake cock. Fuck, you were a natural at this. With his other free hand, Kakucho reached for his cellphone on the desk. You realised a second too late what he was doing when the camera flashlight shone into your eyes, leaving you reeling.

“Smile for the camera, angel,” his deep voice commanded. You peered up into the lens, a single teardrop leaking down your face. 

The gun came back into the scene, and you flinched. Your fate was sealed when he almost tenderly aligned it to your temple, the light blinding you. If he pulled the trigger right now, you could confidently say that you were not ready.

In fact, the idea of you dying while getting taped on camera sounded like something fucked up only a Tenjiku member would do. Why did you think Kakucho was any different? 

Just because he fed you, offered you a roof over your head and claimed he saved you? 

This was his plan all along: to lure you into trusting him so you could offer yourself up like a ripe fruit into his trap. 

The postmortem reports would say you consented to this. Your snuff film will be played in darkened interrogation rooms by your fellow agents and psychoanalysts alike, not to seek justice for your murder. But, to catch snatches of telltale landmarks in the video that would alert Tokyo PD to where the notorious Tenjiku underboss resided.

There was no one to be blamed for landing you in this situation but yourself. 

As the fear pumped itself in your veins, so did your hips over the plastic cock.

Fucking take me, you bastard, you seethed, starting to bob your head up and down his drooling length with vigor, earning his husky groan. If you’re gonna kill me, at least make it a death worth remembering.

Kakucho’s hand holding his gun trembled, and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pretend it wasn’t there—focused solely on pleasuring him. 

“F-fuck,” his shaky exhale managed to puncture throgh the fog of lust in your mind. “Fuck—g’na cum, angel. G’na—”

He didn’t give you any warning. His gun clattered to the ground, causing you to flinch and nearly yelp aloud from the fear of it going off. But, he kicked it aside, far across to the other end of the study room. His other hand was free to grip your locks in a death hold, pushing your mouth up and down his slickened cock. 

“So close,” he breathed, pretty eyes fluttering closed, scar rippling from his scrunched expression.

Kakucho did not give you any warning for what he did next. Dragging his cock from the depths of your throat, he gave it a few pumps, the camera’s light still blinding you to hot strings of his cum shooting all over your face. Some of it landed in your parted mouth, more found its way to your hair and tits, trickling obsenely down the planes of your body. 

His harsh panting and your heavy breaths were the only sound in this room. The suction cup dildo was completely drenched with your juices, and your knees were starting to go numb. Mercifully, he plucked you from the ground, crowding you in his arms. His phone switched off, and gun far away from your vincinity, you found it comforting enough to pitch your head forward, knocking it against his chin. 

Unsteady gloved hands slipped down your body, squeezing your ass and thighs, ghosting a touch between your drenched folds and smoothing up your body. Kakucho gathered his cum, the stringy ropes swiped off your heaving tits first and messily pushed into your mouth where you got the hint, cleaning up after him.

He worked in silence, swiping his cum off your cheeks and chin, pushing his soiled fingers into your mouth for you to suck them off. Your hips twitched and bucked, finding his thigh, and he let you grind your sticky folds on the muscular curvature, working out your fustrations on him. 

You whined when he removed his ruined, gloved fingers from your mouth, batting your lashes in desperation.

“Sorry, pretty girl,” he grazed your cheek with a soft peck. “You cleaned it all up, and I don’t have more to give you.”

His words sent a shock of humiliation and want straight to your core, your clit throbbing from his condescending coo. 

“Please,” you squeezed your eyes closed, the dam breaking. Sobs filled the room, and you shook in his arms, your bound body going completely limp. Your pussy ached with such need, it felt like stabs of pain, and your pitiful cries were starting to chip at his resolve. “Wanna cum s’bad, Kaku, please, please,” you blubbered, pushing your face into the crook of his neck while you continued to rut against his thigh. “Please make me cum, oh please make me cum. Give it to me, please? Please?” 

“Hm.” He leaned back on the desk, and lifted you up into his arms. Docilely wrapping your thighs around his waist, you looked up into his face with such doe-eyed distress, it tugged on his cock and heartstrings. 

His length slid easily into you without any resistance, your hole prepped and ready. Kakucho was even bigger than the toy, and thick enough that you wondered how your mouth could’ve stretched around him when your pussy was struggling to do the same, even with all this lubrication. 

“Oh—fuck! Yes!” you tossed your head back, panting loudly. Hips circling and clipping against his, you almost burst out into relieved tears when he mouthed and played with your nipples, sucking on them feverishly while you bounced on his cock. The desk shook and groan underneath your combined weight, though neither of you cared. Kakucho let you work yourself up into a frenzy on his cock, slipping his hand between your bodies to catch at your clit in time with your needy thrusts. 

Soon, you were clenching on him in a vice-like grip and his eyes rolled back into his head, a string of loud curses mingling with your gasping cries filling the room in a cacophony of lewd sounds. 

“Can I cum?” you remembered your manners, desperately pinning your wet eyes on him. His thighs were drowning in your juices. “Can I please cum?” 

Kakucho tightened his hands around your hips, knowing that if he told you no this time, you would be broken beyond belief. Not exactly the scenario he wanted to happen when you were already shaking and falling apart on his cock. 

“Please,” your voice was a thin string of hope. “I-I can’t hold out any longer—”

Your gummy walls were already melting around him, leaving him lightheaded.

“Yes.”

The word resounded in the white blank slate of your mind; your entire body tightening with anticipatory tension. 

Kakucho kissed your cum-stained cheek almost reverently. 

“Yes, you can cum, my angel.” 

And you did. 

Gloriously. 

Your screams could’ve shattered the window, and Kakucho was thankful he had the entire penthouse soundproofed. Wails mingled with loud sobs fogged up the ceiling-to-floor windows and he worked your hips in his two large palms, fucking into you like a crazed stallion hell bent on inseminating his frisky mare. Your frame jolted and writhed, twisting this way and that, as if trying to escape the insane pleasure he was eliciting in you.

He did not give you any wiggle room to escape. 

Pounding into you from below, Kakucho made your first release with him count, teeth catching on your nipple, thumb reaching below easily to swipe at your raw clit.

The shudders were now accompanied with sobs, and you wailed for him to stop. 

He clicked his tongue. 

Make me cum. Make it stop. 

You were such a nuisance.

Kakucho did not heed your cries, fucking you beyond the point of overstimulation. His cock slammed over and over again in your softening walls, bulbous head punching the opening of your cervix. You screamed out his name, voice breaking off into a whimper, and like a trigger, his balls tightened. 

“Fuck!” he roared, nearly breaking the entire desk when he shoved his entire soul into fucking your pussy, the loud squelches of your sweet hole taking his cock leaving him drunk on the soft planes of your body and your lush, velvety walls. 

“Kaku, Kaku,” you sobbed over and over like clockwork, completely fucked out of your mind. Your pussy spasmed—hard—and he gave one last surge, skin slapping on skin before his restraint crumbled and he was pumping hot rivulets of cum into you. It was too much, too thick, that it dribbled out to spill on your thighs, mingling with the froth of your own slick to create sticky webs between your bodies.

You staggered into his embrace and he held onto you tightly, your bound body pressed to his defined one. 

The blood rushing through his ears took a long time to subside, and when it did, he opened his eyes to find your shimmering ones locked on his. Completely glowing with tiny hearts in them. 

From that expression alone, Kakucho knew that he had you. 

You were completely his.

Undoing your bonds, he helped you straighten up, pressing soft kisses onto your cheeks and parted lips as you slowly descended from your high, too. Once or twice you stumbled like a newborn baby deer on your feet, and he held onto you tightly, too fucked out to care that he was stepping in a puddle of your pussy juices. 

The both of you were snuggled up on his thick rug, bare bodies wrapped with a blanket from a nearby sofa he had hastily grabbed before you two crashed onto the floor. 

Your cheek nestled in the crook of his neck, and his fingers gently running up and down the seam of your spine, you finally found your voice.

“You’re so fucked up.” 

Kakucho’s fingers stilled, and he turned to face you. Finding you grinning like a love-sick fool. 

“All the things you did to me… you’re a hardcore motherfucker, Hitto Kakucho.” Summarizing your findings on him like a good analyst did, you propped your head on his defined chest, gently tracing the scar on his forehead with the tip of your index finger. “You’re fucked up.” 

The softness in your voice contradicted your statement and despite his good conscience, he found himself smiling. 

“Yeah, but you’re fucking me,” he teased.

Your swollen lips curving into a smile made him want to devour you whole again. “So, who’s the one that’s even more fucked up?” 

He brought you into his arms, where your body laid on top of his like the world’s best weighted blanket. Kissing down the length of your jaw, his next whisper tickled the loose strands of hair around your face.

“Looks like we’re both the same type of fucked-up, angel.” 

•

Life fell into a simple routine. 

Everyday, you would be the first to wake, watching the sun rays play across his face. Sometimes, Kakucho greeted consciousness the same time you did, and you would both spend the entire morning with lips tangled, hips clipping against each other; determined to drive the other down the deep end with slow, languid strokes.

Other times, he would be content to press his lips to your temple, breathing you in as the world slowly fractured into wakefulness.

You would help him make breakfast, curious about his missions. Though Kakucho did not divulge much to you, it was still enough to whet your appetite of the outside world.

Somedays, you missed it.

The sun, walking freely down pavements, feeling the breeze brush your skin and rustle your clothes. All the simple things you took for granted were those you missed the most. Your friends, your colleagues, your parents—you wondered if they ever thought of you. If they refused to believe your disappearance and tried to uncover the truth. Would they know you were up above the clouds, staring down at them with forlorn eyes? Would they sense your yearning to be one with their world again, far away from this reality of luxury and loneliness? 

Kakucho could tell you were breaking around the edges. Your smiles were a bit more empty, eyes settling into vacant pockets of silence as you stared off into the distance. 

One day, he came back home carrying a large parcel. You stood up from the couch, glancing at it in curiosity when he beckoned you closer, the door closing resolutely shut behind him. From the nondescript cardboard, a short yelp brought your attention and you didn’t dare believe it when he opened the flaps and a cute, fluffy golden face peeked out from the depths.

“Do you like him?” Kakucho asked when he handed you the tiny ball of sunshine, its yelps and whines nearly making you cry from the sheer preciousness of that sweet, small face.

“Like him?” you murmured in a thick voice. “I love him. Thank you, Kakucho.”

You pressed a wet kiss to his warm cheek dusted with pink, and he coughed lightly, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “S-so, what do you wanna name him?” 

The retriever’s pink tongue lapped at your chin and you giggled, holding it away from you, the warmth of its tiny body immediately offering you comfort. His name was partly derived from Kakucho’s infamous character, and there was no hesitation when you pinned him with a bright and warm smile. “Kenji. Because he’s strong—like his daddy. Hitto Kenji.” 

If Kakucho’s cheeks weren’t already pink, he was sure he would’ve combust in embarrassed delight. Saving his face, he cleared his throat, and dropped his gaze, letting his long bangs cover his expression from your dancing eyes. 

“Nice name.” 

“M’glad you think so,” you enthused, and held Kenji in your arms, cradling the pup like you would a baby. “Hitto Kenji—welcome to our home.”

Home. 

Kakucho never had a home to fully call his in his life, and hearing that peculiar word drip from your tongue like it was the most natural utterance made something in his chest twinge half in agony and half in pure ecstasy. This lavish penthouse he had bought on a whim because it reminded him of the kingdom he wanted to oversee together with Izana suddenly became a little more brighter. A little more warmer. 

All because of you. Your sweet smiles, your chiming laugh and the light returning back into your eyes. Kakucho wanted to preserve this moment for life; keep it hanging on his wall where he could admire this joyous scene for life. 

“Kenji, go to daddy!” The golden retriever collided into his ankles, scrapping his dress pants happily with its tiny paws. Kakucho chuckled and lifted the darling animal up into his chest, loving how its weight felt in his arms. 

You came up beside him, hugging him around the waist and a part of his mind—the traitorous one—imagined this same scene with a huge twist. 

Instead of the golden retriever coddled to his chest, he pictured a bubbling baby with your beautiful eyes and smile, cooing up at him; unafraid of his scar, his mismatched eyes, or his bloody past. Just wanting to love him as much as he already loved that darling soul. 

“—need to get him a pen. Kakucho? Kaku?” 

He snapped back into reality to find you waving your hand in front of his face, an amused smile quirking your shapely lips. Before he could stop himself, Kakucho leaned forward, trapping your grin to his lips, feeling you melt into the kiss. 

It ended as soon as it began with a smack of soft lips parting, and this time, it was his turn to beam. “You were saying, angel?” 

Huffing, you took Kenji back from him, the dog whining and its ears perking up, nuzzling its muzzle into your neck. “I said, we should get him a playpen. And some chewtoys. Oh—snacks! Lots of snacks. He needs to grow into a big boy and protect us. And formula… I think he still needs formula—” Kakucho let you prattle on, content to cross his arms and watch you bounce Kenji in yours, suddenly feeling lighter than he ever did in what appeared to be decades.

Thank you, Y/N. He memorised the curve of your smile, the glint of happiness in your eyes. I can’t imagine a world where you’re not in it—thank you for giving the sunshine back into my life. 

•

You woke up in a swathe of thick blankets, finding Kakucho stirring beside you. 

He was fully awake, adoration beaming from his features, and he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re up early,” you mumbled, stifling a yawn. “Yer never up earlier than me.”

“That’s because it’s almost ten, sleepyhead.” 

You jolted upright at his words, disbelief written every crevice of your face. “W-what? I never sleep this late.” In a voice still thick with fatigue, you rubbed your eyes, surprised to find him fully dressed for work but still lounging in bed with you.

“True,” Kakucho remarked and pinched your cheek, his expression soft with something you thought was similar to love. “But, it’s fine. I enjoyed the silence while it lasted.”

His insinuation settled in and you stuck your tongue out in his direction, giggling when he tickled your sides in retaliation. 

Kakucho pinned you onto the bed, encouraged by your peals of laughter to skitter his hands up and down your belly. Your laughter dissolved into moans when he slipped a hand underneath your satin sleep shorts, finding your sweet pearl already swollen and slick for him. 

“Fuck,” he mouthed against your neck, breathing growing heavier. “How is it that you’re always so good and wet for me already?” 

Your answer was a muffled whine that did not go unnoticed by him. Kakucho pressed a kiss to your hairline, smiling when he felt your face nuzzle into his neck. 

He took his time with you—prepping you for his cock and letting you work yourself up to a comfortable rhythm that had you moaning and snapping your hips lewdly. Your soft pants and quiet cries spurred him on to curl his fingers in a come hither motion, circling on your golden spot over and over again until you cried out from the stimulation.

“K-Kaku!” soft fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

Like a great golden tapestry unraveling, he held the gorgeous threads of your dissolution carefully in his open palms with the tender care of a great artist putting the final touches to his masterpiece. Your kisses tasted like desperation and he happily drank them up, finding his belonging in the curve of your knitted brow. Kakucho was gentle when he retracted his slicked fingers and tapped them against your parted lips, implicitly asking for you to open up. 

You fulfilled his wishes for him perfectly like you always did, suckling on his calloused digits, wide doe-eyes locked on his incongruous ones.

He manouvered you onto your side, removing your tank top and sleep shorts, tossing them onto the floor. Your obedience was a sliver of nirvana for him when he tasted it on his open mouth; caressing your lower lip with his velvet soft tongue, your lashes fluttering against his. 

The sunlight streaming in highlighted the lines of your body dipped in gold, only for his viewing pleasure. Rapturous attention was paid unto the intimate curve of your dainty wrist when it dipped in between your bare thighs past the band of your satin panties, lightly strumming your clit while your hooded gaze flickered to his parted mouth.

“I want to ruin you,” Kakucho mumbled, large palms drifting up the terrain of your form to cup the plush offerings that were your heaving tits. “Tease you til’ you cry for me like you always do. What do you say, my little whore?” 

Your desperate little nod should not have made him grin so widely. Like the smug bastard he was, Kakucho had you trapped under his heftier build, and he brought your hands behind the small of your back, lovingly kissing your shoulder as he mumbled for you to hold onto this position. The sweet blurbs tumbling from your mouth when he arrived back to bed reminded him of a fragile bird caught in a trap, and him, the gleeful hunter ready to sink his teeth into your soft, willing flesh. 

The cuffs pressed your arms together, holding them in a reverse prayer position while he roped its harness under the swell of breasts, making sure to languidly tongue the stiff peaks of your nipples while he fastened the buckles. It left your upper body completely interlocked; his warm palms rasped down your thighs, and secured the last two remaining cuffs around the plush flesh, lifting them up to hook the two manacles onto the harness securely strapped underneath your heaving chest. 

Trussed up and warm in the face, you could only watch, helpless as his muscles gleamed, cock stiff and leaking inside his grey sweatpants. Kakucho’s incongruous eyes twinkled, and you didn’t have to unwind your heavy tongue to ask him what he was doing; the intention was clear enough when he went towards the oak dressing table and rummaged in the designated toys and ropes shelf. 

He kept the hidden instrument behind his back, sauntering towards you with a growing smirk. The bed dipped under his weight, and there was nothing you could do but let him pull you close by the ankles, your lewdly spread legs giving him a front row view of your messy folds and throbbing clit. “Beautiful.” 

You tensed when leaned closer, lips brushing your nose, your cheeks and eventually enveloping the soft petals of your parted mouth in a chaste kiss. Every gust of inhale was wasted when he stole it just as fast, inhaling you like you were the world’s most delicious scent. Kakucho busied his lips down the column of your neck, biting into that favourite spot which always made your toes curl. Warm, open mouth kisses descended down your collarbone, towards the rise of your tits and he squeezed them generously, flicking the turgid nubs with his fingers just to watch them harden under his teasing ministrations. 

“Kaku,” your breathless moan made his cock twitch and he hungrily suckled on one stiff nipple, letting your flavour explode across his tongue. Burying a muffled moan in a mouthful of your tit, his other hand trailed lightly down the curve of your side, straight towards the soaking seat of your panties. Two fingers found the imprint of your clit and gently circled them, leaving the material sticking to your skin with ridiculous transparency; your juices almost flooding the diaphonous fabric through. 

Kakucho hummed, and rolled your nipple in between his teeth, enjoying your sudden sharp inhale. 

“I love it when you’re all tied up for me,” he dipped his head lower, leaving more kisses down the valley of your breasts. From the corner of your eye, he picked up the hidden object high above your head and dragged his mouth right back to the pulsating mark he left on your neck, distracting you from what he did next. Your head was lifted slightly off the soft mattress, and you felt the familiar band of your favorite ballgang rasping your cheek. Instinctively, your mouth fell open and Kakucho chuckled, kissing the plump of your lower lip before bringing the ball underneath your chin.

He busied himself with adjusting the material, and you took the time to teasingly run your tongue over the ridges of his ear, enjoying how his gust of warm laughter on your neck made goosebumps erupt down the line of your spine. “Impatient?” 

Your whine was muffled from the bright red ball stuck in between your teeth, the straps tightening to squish the fat of your cheeks and giving you an adorable, chipmunk like similarity that made him grin wider. He kissed your cheek, muttering how cute you were, much to your chagrin and humiliation. 

It did not get any better, especially when Kakucho was intimately aware of the tactics to make you squirm. He held out from touching your body, lifting himself up into a kneeling position to admire the spread of your legs and the twitchy little pearl begging for his tongue to devour her. Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he aligned the camera to your flushed folds and started filming, ignoring your muffled, sweet whines. 

“Hush, baby. I want to make this a morning neither of us would forget.”

As he spoke, he dipped his fingers down lower and lower until they touched the hood of your pulsing clit. You seized, eyes rolling into the back of your skull when he started to pinch and roll the throbbing bud; your thighs tensing from the frustrating reality that you could do nothing but endure his torment. 

Kakucho kept his phone steady, dipping his fingers teasingly into your warm, wet hole where they came out slicked to the knuckles. He brought his fingers up to your face, smearing the sopping juices onto your cheek as you flinched and shot him a glare. The camera caught every twitch of your expression, and his low chuckle made the blood shoot further down south, more wetness spilling out from your exposed hole.

“So pretty. Don’t act like you wouldn’t suck on my fingers like a little slut if that gag was not shutting you up.” His harsh words was in contrast to the soft kiss he placed on your shoulder, before ending the recording and tossing his phone aside.

After minutes of heavy petting and more fondling than your frustrated pussy could endure, Kakucho finally gave in and trailed blooming hot, and wet kisses smacking lewdly against your skin down the apex of your thighs. Stopping short just of your pubic bone, he flickered his eyes up to you and grinned; a split second of delay until he parted the seat of your panties aside and fell into your pussy like a starved man devouring a buffet for the first time. 

Your scream ricocheted off the walls, and your hips pushed back, taken offguard by his zeal. But, Kakucho pinned you down to the bed, forcing you to take it; to last under his torment. He licked, sucked and lapped at your folds, murmuring praises in a dark, husky timber, holding you open for him as your limbs twitched in your bonds.

Muffled whispers of pretty, such a pretty baby and taste s’good were heard in between the pornographic wet smacks of his mouth meeting your squelching cunt. Drool slipped down your jaw, joining a stream of tears seeping into the sheets as your lover heartily ate you out for his own pleasure. 

Two thick fingers parted through your twitching, gummy walls and you shrieked, biting down on the ballgag hard when they found your golden spot. Kakucho curled his fingers forward in a come-hither motion, all the while he ran his tongue around your clit, suckling it like a candy he was trying to dissolve into his mouth. Your tears and sobs mingled with the stuttered groans coming from the man passionately chasing you down the peak of your pleasure. 

Too much… it was too much.

“Mhmp—Kwaku!” 

You thrashed your head from side to side, hips stuttering and jerking to escape his wicked attentions. 

The bubbling hot pit just underneath your belly button was begging to spill over and you bucked your hips up, already tasting your orgasm in the back of your throat. But, like always, nothing with Kakucho was easy, especially when he pulled away a fraction of a second before you went careening down the edge. 

He chuckled at your muffled profanities, swiping away a tear forming in the corner of your eye. 

“Almost there? Sorry, baby.”

Resting his big build in between your legs, you shivered, abdomen clenching when he started kissing the inside of your thighs, making sure to run his tongue along the natural curve of your body from time to time. Riling you back up. 

Your teeth dug into the rubber ball, chewing out your frustrations when he started peppering small, wet kisses along your pubic bone, right at the edge of your panties. They were completely soaked through, paper thin and translucent that you should’ve been embarrassed. But, no, you were snapping your hips up again, circling them with breathy whines expelling past your stretched jaw, humiliation and intense need welling deep in your body, each stream close to overflowing.

Kakucho made good on his promise to tease you until you cried; fat tears splashing down your face as he gently pinched and rubbed your clit through the flimsy material. One particular hard pinch was enough to get your hips snapping up violently and a scream tearing through the room. 

The burn from your tender clit was no match for how he started to tease your pussy over the fabric, making you soak your ruined panties even more. 

You wished you could close your thighs, ground your pussy on the bed—anything to alleviate this maddening sensation of unfulfillment deep in you. 

“I know you want to cum so badly,” Kakucho flicked your clit and you whimpered. “But I’m having so much fun with you, my baby. You’re such a fucking treat to tease and deny.” 

If your reactions drove him mad, his words made you positively feral. Lifting your fucked out gaze to him, sweat stuck the loose strands of your hair together onto your chest. Kakucho had barely stuck his cock in you and you were already unraveling for him in record time. 

Such a pretty thing… I want to ruin her for other men.

You were full on whimpering, eyes rolling towards the ceiling, chin and chest shiny with drool, mimicking the slick of your thighs that was completely drenched from his ministrations. 

Kakucho was in no better state—the front of his sweatpants was soaked in pre, and his cock was a massive tent, raging to be buried in you. He couldn’t deny the both of you any longer. Sliding his pants down his thick and tone thighs, he pushed your panties aside almost lovingly and aligned the bright red tip of his swollen cock right to your entrance.

The moment he sank deep into you with no resistance, the both of you moaned. 

“Feels good?” he panted, starting a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t do anything but whine and nod, eyes knocking back into your skull til the only the glimmer of white shone. He kissed your cheek, suffused with pride. My good little fucked out slut. 

Kakucho grabbed your hips, fistful of your flesh his anchor to drill his huge length into you over and over again, until it felt that you might die from the void his outline left behind. You needed him to cum in you—needed to feel the hot, sloshing ropes fill you up or else you swore you would lose your mind. 

Hiccuping his name in broken, muffled whimpers, Kakucho pressed his forehead to yours, unexpectedly tender. “I’ve n-never known a home u-until you, Y/N.” His cheeks dusted with pink, rivulets of sweat running down his angular features rolled onto yours, and you studied him, rapt with attention, looking so adorable despite the ballgag and restraints holding your body in submission. Kakucho’s eyes were crystal clear, with no deceit behind them.

Just pure, unadulterated love. The same kind reflected in the shine of your eyes. 

“Thank you.” A clumsy kiss that bruhsed your cheek and you whimpered, turning your face to his, begging without words for him to remove the gag. 

Somehow, he understood. Shaky fingers undid the buckle, and the bright ball fell from your sore jaw, leaving you free to coax his lips onto yours. Kakucho kissed you deeply, tongue pinning yours down as his hips stuttered and bucked, a telltale sign he was quick to cum. 

“Fuck, shit, sorry, baby, sorry—” 

You had no idea what he was apologizing for when you felt it. The twitch of his cock; the cum that filled you up to the brim in hot ropes. 

Kakucho expelled a gutteral groan, unlike that of a male bull breeding his willing partner. His pretty features contorting into devastating wildness, the lewd groans of his pleasure spilling deep into you, made your shoddy restraint on your orgasm crumble like a sand in the wind.

Your entire body seized, every fiber and neuron freezing. And then… the fires raged.

Bringing you down. Dragging you over hot coals. Your orgasm was a vengeful, powerful thing.

It left you wailing out his name, hips stuttering and stilling, your brow scrunched beautifully as it dragged you under. Kakucho’s kiss only made it the more intense, the rush of emotions that departed from his tongue twining with yours, bringing forth a ruin which shook you both right down to your cores. 

A fractured sort of silence took over the bedroom. Kakucho came down from his high the same time the fires stopped burning you to the stake. His lips pressed to your cheek was a cool balm, slowly grounding you with more warm stamps that left you even more exhausted than when you had drifted off to sleep last night.  

Like a warm blanket had wrapped around you, your eyes fluttered close and you fell back against the mattress, limp with exhaustion. You barely felt him remove the restraints, catching hints of metal clinking onto the ground, and then, your sated body was in his arms. 

“M’sorry, baby… I couldn’t help it.” Kakucho swiped his fingers through the mess between your thighs, murmuring softly into your hair. “Couldn’t stop myself.” 

He held you close to his stuttering chest, the beat of his heart loud and wild like a stallion underneath your cheek. Eventually, it mellowed out, and you zoned in on his quiet breathing; the rise and fall of his broad chest calming you down. Warm circles rubbed onto your back leashed you back to reality and the fog slowly disappeared, bringing with it a chill that trembled you right in your bones.

Kakucho held you through the plateau, kissing your forehead, your cheek, your lips until the shakes subsided. You drifted off into a light doze, barely hearing the next words he whispered into your hair.

“—love you…”

You flickered your eyes open, something tender and cautious smarting in your chest. It stood on shaky legs, like a newborn baby deer, blinking awake to a world beholding its presence for the first time. It shook you like the first winter’s chill and the last summer’s breeze at the same time. Taking root in you to gloss over the unknown doubts coming out from the woodwork in the thick of your soul. 

“You… love me?”

His hesitation was regarded with little scrutiny; the tiny hitch of his breath monumental. The next words he murmured laid the last of your doubts to an earthly death.

“I do. I love you.”

Breaking. You were breaking. Seeping, golden light flooded the tender chambers of your chest, a longtime fear you never knew you harbored so intimately—so preciously held fast in red strings wrapped tightly to your sky high walls, blew into smithereens from his quiet proclamation.

What did you know of love? Beyond its foolishness, its fiction and its elusiveness? 

Right here, in his arms, you came to understand that even fantasy was rooted in reality, much like how you were anchored by his side for now—for many years to come down this uncertain, but brightening road. 

“I love you, too.” Four words that was akin to a teacup trying to hold the entire ocean.

Not enough—never enough. 

But, somehow, just right. 

•

Good things never last for someone as unlucky as you.

With your days whittling into weeks, every moment in Kakucho’s luxurious penthouse was steeped in undeniable golden hues, reminiscent of lush happiness and gentle sin. The mornings waking up in his arms, adjusting his tie before he left for work and the soft kiss he placed on your cheek. Nights you spent waiting up for him, welcoming him with your arms, kisses and sometimes, the warmth of your body. 

Routine took over and you had never seen a bliss like this. 

But, like every love story, tragedy was not far behind.

You remembered that it was four in the afternoon. You had just finished giving Kenji his bath and were in the middle of cleaning up the kitchen, planning to make a warm meal for your lover so that he could be greeted by the comforting scent of his favourite dish the moment he walked into the door.

Wiping down the counter, you were suddenly assuaged by a burning smell.

Before you could react and investigate further, the front door of the apartment blew open. The gaping, bleeding hole in your periphery was unlike an open vacuum that seemed to suck every bit of warmth, leaving this cradle feeling like an exposed field. 

The air was tinged with sulphur and you could barely hear above Kenji’s rapid barking, the golden retriever standing in between the door and your trembling body, trained to protect you by Kakucho. 

Smoke hung thickly in the air like oil over water and you struggled to breathe, your eyes watering. A figure cutting an intimidating silhouette by the threshold walked in—his dark blue eyes widening when he recognized your pale face. 

“Y/N!” 

His voice. 

“N-Naoto—” you were enveloped in a warm embrace, strong arms pulling you off the ground. In the ringing of chaos, his voice cut above the mayhem. 

“Get a medic! We found her!” 

They hauled you out the door, past hallways you had never seen before. Away from the penthouse. They told you that you had been missing for three months. That they cracked down on Tenjiku and Kurokawa Izana was arrested along with the rest of his goons. 

Abducted and held hostage by Hitto Kakucho. The whispers raged like fire on a dry field, clouding your ears with incredulous assumptions.

The cameras flashed, capturing your hounded expression. 

No. No, this could not be. 

“Ouch—hey! Someone get this mutt away from me!” A sickening crunch and Kenji’s yelp petered out into a whine. “Stupid dog. Hitto probably used him to tear traitors from limb to limb.” 

“Stop!” you screamed, thrashing around in their hold. “Stop—don’t hurt him!” Naoto tightened his hold on you.

“Calm down, Y/N. You’re safe now. You’re safe now. We won’t let that bastard touch you again.”

“Where is he?” you gasped out when they led you down towards the ambulance. Voices hailed you as the missing girl found again; neighbors you had never seen before peeking their head out their equally opulent units to find out what was going on. “Kaku—”

“We lost him,” you didn’t have to look up to sense Tachibana’s jaw tightening. “But, once we catch that evil asshole, we’ll stand him trial and you’ll finally have justice. He’s a dangerous bastard, Y/N.”

No, no. This wasn’t true. Kakucho had never hurt you. “You’re wrong! Please, let me go back!” your screams rebounded over the crowd, and gasps could be heard; your panic drawing attention and more confusion when you started thrashing in Naoto’s grasp. “He’s my lover! Stop—stop! Let me go back! Let me go back!” 

Naoto looked at you like you had lost your entire head. “Y/N, he’s a killer! He’s tortured people, maimed them and even sliced off heads for fuck’s sake. You can’t be fucking serious… you don’t mean that.”

The tears dislodged to stain your tank top, and you shook your head rapidly, dismissing his poisonous suggestions. 

“No. You’re wrong. You’re so wrong. Kakucho would never hurt me. He loves me and I love him. You don’t understand—”

Your friend made a sound in the back of his throat like he was being strangled. With strength you did not know he could use on you, Naoto hauled your body towards the ambulance, uncaring that you were struggling or that you were pushing back with equal ardour. 

“Naoto Tachibana, don’t do this!” you begged. Two more men grabbed your shoulders, restraining you to the stretcher with soft yet unyielding velcro. 

A group of police blocked reporters from rushing towards you, the clanging clamor making your head throb and vision blurry. Someone dumped Kenji’s limp body in the ambulance at the foot of your stretcher and you choked back on a cry. 

Catching sight of your horrified stare, the paramedic patted your shoulder. “Don’t worry, we just had to sedate your dog. He will be fine. Miss Y/N? Miss? Hey—”

The color had leached from your cheeks, and dark spots appeared in your vision. 

“Miss—hey! Hey! Iwa-chan, we need to give her oxygen—”

That was the last thing you heard before the world faded into black.

The life you built with Kakucho—the love you both grew from the ground up—completely lost in flames. 

•

“Stockholm Syndrome,” the psychiatrist evaluated, her thin, fushia-hued lips pursed over your reports. “As we suspected.”

Tachibana Naoto had many horrible days in his life. From a robbery gone wrong to his first bullet wound, the young detective had seen many horrors in his short years. But, none so when your mental evaluations came back to Tokyo PD. 

“Fuck.” The stoic detective rubbed his forehead, his usually neat raven locks ruffled from one too many times he ran a hand through them. “The videos he took of her on his phone. Did he… is there any evidence we can use to charge him with rape?” 

The psychiatrist closed her eyes, knowing exactly what videos he was referring to. The ones with you being sexually assaulted. It was not easy watching that Tenjiku scum use his friend like his personal sex slave. The gun pointed to your head as he forced you to give him oral sex was not the worst one—it was the numerous positions he put you in, the humiliation you suffered at his hands for his cruel amusement. 

Naoto’s stomach tightened. They still have not addressed the biggest violation Hitto Kakucho had committed against you.

“Does she know?” his voice was paper thin and cracking. “About the baby?” 

The older woman stiffened. She set her pen down, and lowered her eyes, removing her green-rimmed glasses and wiping it carefully across her silk blouse; buying more time to reply. “Yes. She is aware,” Dr. Kira finally uttered.

Fuck. “And how did she react to it?” 

The most trusted psychiatrist in Tokyo PD actually winced. “She… is devastated. But, not because she’s pregnant with that monster’s child. But, because the father’s status remains unknown.”

Naoto was going to kill Kakucho when the latter was in his grasp—if that bastard was still alive. He had heard of cases like this where women were kept in cellars while their captors raped them until they conceived. Usually, it was followed with immense guilt and shame which was valid with the sufferings they had endured. But, in your case, it was completely unheard of for a captive to have fallen in love with her abuser and captor this ardently. 

The state was already requesting Tokyo PD for permission to interview you, most likely for collecting more data on the deviation of your psyche. Fuck. Naoto needed a drink.

“I’ll go and speak to her.”

“Tachibana.” He stopped in his tracks, turning his head slightly towards Kira.

“Don’t push her too hard,” Dr. Kira shook her head. “Her psyche is fragile and I believe if she loses the baby due to stress… it would have dire consequences on her wellbeing.”

Naoto nodded. He left the room, heading down the hall right towards the women’s ward where he found your door ajar. You were there, propped against the bed, a bandage on your cheek from a where a piece of shrapnel had nicked your skin during the rescue mission. Kenji was on your lap, fast asleep, and you were stroking his golden fur mindlessly, another hand on your belly.

Your eyes snapped to his, stunningly lucid for a woman who had suffered through much trauma. “I know what you’re going to say,” the strength in your brittle voice took him aback slightly. “But, you’re wrong. Kakucho has never hurt me. Not even once. The videos you recovered—it was consensual.” Tears trickled down your face, and you sniffed loudly. “He never did anything to me that I didn’t want done.”

Naoto felt like he was going to be sick. How much damage did that bastard inflict onto you that your thinking was this warped? 

“Hey.” He struggled to keep his facade calm, pulling a chair and sitting down next to you. Your hands were trembling, lower lip quivering. “How’re you feeling?”

Your eyes rippled close and you turned your head to the side, unable to face him. “Just get it over with. I know you find me disgusting for defending Kakucho. But, I’m not sick in the head. I really do love him and he loves me.”

“Then why did he leave his phone behind where we could track you?”

Naoto could tell his words finally hit a mark. Your eyes snapped wide open, and you whipped your head around to face him, aghast. “W-what?” 

“Yeah,” the detective swallowed. “We raided their Yokohama warehouse where Izana was presiding on a meeting. Kakucho dropped his phone during the altercation, and fled. You know better than me how much Tenjiku doesn’t leave a trace, so, for him to do that…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence. You could fill in the blanks for yourself. He betrayed me. 

“No,” you shook your head, refusing to believe what Naoto was implying. “No. He loves me—”

“I know you think he does, and I won’t refute you,” your friend emphasized. “But, you’re carrying his baby now, Y/N. Listen, I’ve spoken to the deputy judge. He’s decided to give you a mercy abortion on grounds that you were raped—”

“No!” you screamed, jolting Kenji who snapped to his feet, growling at an uneasy Naoto. “No,” you blubbered, softer this time. “Kakucho did not betray me.” The tears chased down your face like rapidly falling rain, your hands white-knuckled claws on the sheets. “He would never do that to me. Kakucho loves me.”

The lines around Naoto’s mouth deepened. “I know this is upsetting for you, Y/N and rightfully so—” 

“Get out.” Softer than down and yet harsher than steel. Your friend gaped. “I want you to leave me alone.”

From your trembling hands and averted gaze to the dog baring its teeth at him in warning, Naoto sensed his time together with you was up. Before he departed, he shared with you one last look, dark blue eyes stormy like a raging sea. 

“Take care, Y/N.”

The door closed behind him. You fell into a heap, clutching Kenji closed to your chest while the dog whimpered, licking at your tears. 

Kaku… where are you? You sobbed harder. Come back to me, please. 

•

A heavy boot crunching into his belly for what felt like the thousandth time tonight was the final straw which made him spew out a wad of blood onto the concrete pavement.

Around him, looming like sentinels, the rest of Tenjiku stood watching his punishment. Mochi, his best friend in arms and in the training ring, was the one tasked to beat him close to death—an affront that was as much a humiliation for Kakucho as it was to the other man. 

He coughed, more blood dripping onto his chest. Mochi’s dark eyes flashed, almost as if in apology, and he lifted his boot again, about to slam it on more time into his comrade’s beaten form, when someone cleared their throat. 

The crowd parted, the light from one dwindling, hanging bulb above this dark room showing snatches of a pair of lilac eyes and snow white hair. Kakucho forced himself to scramble into a kneeling position; begging Izana for his forgiveness.

“You lied to us.”

Kakucho tensed, waiting for a blow that never came. 

“You betrayed us by letting that little pig snitch stay in your home. You almost destroyed Tenjiku, Kaku-chan. Our dream. All for a whore?” 

He gritted his teeth, biting down on the urge to vehemently disagree with Izana. She is not a whore.

“I am sorry, Izana-san.”

“Get up.” 

Kakucho staggered to his knees with some difficulty, fixing his swollen, visually impaired eye on his master and best friend. Izana’s expression, always mask like with those hauntingly empty purple orbs, were contorted into a frown. He was beyond disappointed. Kurokawa Izana was devastated with him.

I may die here tonight. Kakucho barely had time to manouvere himself back to his feet, when his head snapped up, a searing pain in his scalp, someone holding him by his hair. Izana clicked his tongue, tightening his fingers in those thick, midnight blue locks. 

“Was she more important than us? Than your family?”

“Izana—” he spat out, a bit of blood flecking onto the tanned skin of his chin. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Save it.” Izana let him go, and he crumpled back onto the ground. “One good thing you did was to never keep any incriminating evidence in your penthouse, though I can’t say the same for your sex life with her.”

Kakucho tensed, a smattering of snickers from the other men echoing around the warehouse. “If you wanted a whore to… try your ropes on… you should’ve asked me for any of my girls. I’m sure they would’ve been happy to obliged.”

Despite the fire going off in his wounded chest, and the vitriol he wanted to hurl at Izana’s back, Kakucho held his tongue. His master was all-seeing, all-knowing. 

Nothing escaped his attentions, and unfortunately, if he wanted to spend the whole evening ridiculing him on his sexual deviances, then there was nothing much the scarred man could do to stop him. 

But, that did not mean he had to sit back and take Izana’s abuse. 

“What would you know of love?” His whispery, small voice echoed throughout the empty space. Izana stopped in his tracks. 

“Say that again.”

“Love,” Kakucho wheezed, staggering back to his feet, curling his hands into fists. “What do you know of it if you keep on pushing it away?”

A shot fired, whizzing past his bleeding ear, but Kakucho did not flinch. He anticipated it as much. 

“Love? Is that what you call it?” Izana’s voice, soft and paper thin, was not to be assumed a sign of pleasantry. Not when the smell of lead and gunpowder sizzled around him. “Is that what you call a woman who told the world you were a monster that got her pregnant?” 

Kakucho’s stance faltered, his eyebrows shooting up. “What are you going on about?” 

In answer, a newspaper was slapped onto his broad, bloodstained chest. The scarred man narrowed his eyes, trying to read the headline through his bleary, swollen eyes and excruciating exhaustion. 

Hostage held by infamous yakuza gang, Tenjiku, assaulted. Judges plead clemency to the court for a mercy abortion. 

Of all the blows he suffered tonight, this one hit the hardest. Kakucho expelled a reedy exhale, and crushed the paper in his hands. Dropping it right to his feet, he wobbled, knees shaking. Y/N… his Y/N… what did he do to her?

“You see?” Despite the shock Izana had dealt him, stirrings of pity still lashed in his tone, bringing disquiet to the men around. “She’s telling a different story.” 

Tears smarted in his eyes, and Kakucho had to hold onto every last shred of his composure to not fall into a heap at his leader’s feet, bawling like a little boy. Instead, he squared his shoulders and nodded. “It was my mistake, Izana-san. I heartily accept any punishment you wish to dole out on me.”

Bending his body forward was proven to be difficult, but Kakucho did so with a humble heart and a penitant soul. Izana sighed.

“I don’t want to hurt you any more. You’ve learned your lesson fast enough. Go get cleaned up. We’ll be discussing contingency plans and how best to cover our tracks.”

Solemn words ended the informal meeting and Kakucho straightened. Someone passed him a jacket and a towel, and he did not have to look up to sense that it was Mochi. 

“Shoulda killed that bitch when you had the chance,” his comrade mumbled, unable to look him in the eye. “Would’ve saved us the heat, y’know.”

There was nothing he could say to reply to Mochi’s callous words. Instead, he took the jacket and towel, wiping off the blood and shoving his arms into the sleeves with barely an iota of grace. The grace of his bedroom called out ot him, before he remembered with bitter clarity how he his penthouse was tainted by Tokyo PD. How he had led them to Y/N because if anything happened to him, he could not bear leaving her alone to starve and rot in a home she could not escape from.

With his hands tied, Kakucho made the best choices he could at the moment. And it had backfired, horrendously. 

Y/N… wait for me. Yes, he was stubborn. And yes, he would do anything it took to explain himself that his choices were for her. For a woman he loved. For the family he wanted to go back home to again.

Home. 

God, he missed his home.

I’m coming for you, Y/N. He took one painful step forward, ignoring the stinging pain in his abdomen, aching with every ragged breath he took. Wait for me, angel. 

•

“No, I will not do this.”

Tears coruscrated in your eyes, and even in the heat of the moment, you wished you did not cry when Naoto and the team of doctors were staring you down. Trying to intimidate you to go through with their suggestion to harm Kakucho’s baby.

“Y/N, please, listen to reason—”

“Y/N, I know this is tough on you,” a familiar voice piped up, and the group of doctors parted, letting Kira through. Her smile was thin as tissue, though she fortified it to keep up pretenses. “Please, would you give us a both a moment?” 

Naoto and the rest of the OBGYNs reluctantly exited the room, allowing the psychiatrist to take a seat next to your hospital bed. 

Kenji was sulking near your feet, and though he was not friendly to Dr. Kira, he did not growl at her either. Choosing to watch her every move with distrustful, beady eyes.

Your clenched jaw, tight fists and swollen eyes needed no introduction to the expert psychologist to how much this decision was tearing you apart. Dr. Kira was fully cognizant of how hard trasmuted emotions across captors and victims could be, and she approached you with the gentleness of cornering a terrified, wounded deer.

“Y/N? Are you feeling alright?” 

You sniffed, shaking your head.

“I know this can be a hard topic for you to handle right now, but I want you to tell me, in full detail, what Kakucho-san means to you.”

The mere mention of his name was enough to draw tears into your eyes. “Why? So you can villainize him again? Call him a monster? Everyone already thinks he’s the devil, so anything I say about him will have no effect.”

“No,” Dr. Kira persisted. “Forget what they say. I want to know what you say, okay? Your story is the only one I want to hear right now.” 

You eyed her with distrust, but there was nothing but openness across the psychiatrist’s face. 

“He… is kind. Attentive. When I was in his home, he always made sure to cook for me on time. Sure, he held me captive and threatened me, but he was just doing his job. When he found out I didn’t mean any harm, Kakucho became softer with me. He even got me Kenji as a companion cause I was lonely,” you sank your fingers into the pup’s golden fur, tears chasing down your cheeks.

“He’s so gentle and lovely. Everything we did together… sexually… was fully consensual. I loved every second of it. He understands me like no one else in this world does.” Your sobs bounced across the sterile walls. “I love him. I love him so much and I hate how I don’t know if he’s alive. It’s killing me everyday, doctor. I just want him to be safe.”

Misery lined your entire face, and Dr. Kira furrowed her brow, her own eyes shiny. “I understand. So, you do love him and you think he loves you?”

“I know he does,” you sniffed. “I know he loves me. He’s coming for me.”

Despite how much your words did not mean to affect her, it did. Dr. Kira felt her heart double in speed.

Naoto’s plan chimed in her head. Get her to share more information about Hitto. We can use her to get to that sick bastard.

“How do you know that?” Kira asked cautiously.

The anticipation in your soul churned. Knowledge that Kakucho was just out of reach from your fingertips was agonisingly enticing. “I just do. He’s that kind of person. If he loves you, he’ll do anything for you.”

“So, where do you think he will most likely meet you?” 

You closed your eyes, sinking back into the paltry pillows. “I don’t know. I can’t say for sure because he’s secretive.”

“You just have a hunch?”

Peeling your eyes open, your gaze was both frightfully sharp and lucid on hers. “Yes. But, I know he will come back for me. I just don’t know when.”

Sorry, Naoto. I can’t get through to her. Kira quirked a small smile. That son of a bitch is good—he kept her in the dark so she wouldn’t get into any trouble.

“I see. Well, in any case, I’ll speak to the other OBGYNs and Noato. We don’t have to go through with the abortion if that’s what you want.”

You perked up in disbelief. Kira felt a stab of pity in her soul for the broken woman drowning in the sterile white hospital blankets. Such strength and hope wasted on a bastard who was the scum of society. 

“Is that possible?”

Kira returned your dumbfounded expression with a soft tilt of her mouth. “It is fully your choice. But, just know that if you want to have the abortion, all avenues are still open for you.”

A short bow and the psychiatrist left you with your reeling thoughts.

“Did’cha hear that, Kenji?” The dog, perhaps knowing what precious treasure you carried in your body, nuzzled his nose into your belly, protectively wrapping his body around your torso. “Kakucho Jr. can still live. You’re still going to be a nii-san.”

His ears perked and his head tilted. You laughed.

“Daddy will come for us,” you muttered softly, patting the sweet creature’s head. “I know he will.”

•

The hospital where they kept you away from him was barely an obstacle worth considering.

Sharp, dual-hued eyes surveyed the scene. Security was lax at best; the aging guard could barely hold his baton straight. The police, however, would prove to be a thorn in his side. 

Tachibana himself was tasked with parametering your ward, his back ramrod straight and dark blue gaze unflinching. Bastard. The nerve of him to take his family away and poison your mind with negative conceptions of him. 

Kakucho would make him pay. But, first, he had to find out exactly which unit they were keeping you in. Tuning his binoculars to sharpen the focal points, the Tenjiku underboss scanned up and down the building. At first, a blank slate greeted him, with closed paisley curtains, sickly people on beds, and neutral-faced nurses closing the windows against the evening chill.

Then, the sheen of your hair caught his eye. Soft and dream-like, Kakucho felt his breath catch in the back of his throat. His little muse was unaware of the power she held over him, cheek pressed to her palm, surveying the outside world with barely any interest. His poor sweetheart. What did they do to you, Y/N? Your cheeks were gaunter, thinner. Despite your pregnancy, you did not look happy, sullen and withdrawn in place of the usual famed glow. 

He swallowed heavily. Those bastards would pay. 

Counting the floors, he made quick work, hauling on a gas mask and fiddling with the acrid smoke bombs he had in his pocket. His glock—locked and filled with heavy bullets—weighed in his other hand. In case anything else went south, a machine gun Shion lent him was strapped right to his back. But, before he could take a step forward and carry out his plans, a short clear of a throat caught his attention.

He turned to find Ran, Rindou and Mochi smiling in the half-dark.

“Looks like Romeo’s got his war paint on,” Ran taunted, edging closer into the light. “So, is this your grand plan? You’d make her faint with that damn mask.”

Kakucho scowled and removed the offensive item, glaring at them with a twinkle in his eye. “What are you assholes doing here?” 

“Shion told us you asked for his Browning. We put two and two together,” Rindou supplied, grinning like his brother, though his was laced with surprise and not mockery like Ran’s. 

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun,” Mochi hummed.

Ran cleared his throat. “Enough bickering. We gonna blow this place up or what?” 

“What about Izana? Does he know you’re all here?” Kakucho, ever the cautious one, was a voice of reason even when his plans were bat-shit insane. 

Mochi gave him a look. “Do you think he cares? We’re here, right. That’s all you need to know. C’mon. We have to get Kaku-chan’s girl back.”

Impulsivneess overtook rationalism. Kakucho handed them one smoke bomb each. “West wing, the 8th floor. Looks like the last room to the left. But, be careful. This place is swarming with pigs.”

“All the better,” Ran grinned manically, and there was something so bright, so callous, in his lilac eyes that it made a shiver run down Kakucho’s spine. 

“I love the squeals they make before we barbeque them.”

–

One second, you were staring outside at the world growing dimmer with night approaching, and the next, mayhem broke lose.

Horrified screams were the first thing that alerted you to the terror unfurling right in these hospital wings. Kenji stood straighter, his ears completely rigid, holding his little body between yours and the door. You froze, unable to move, not when heavy sounds of footsteps exacerbated the dread in your soul. 

Thump thump thump.

The lights overhead seemed to flicker. 

You slid down to the floor, trying to curl underneath the bed as best as you could. 

A whine and you realized that Kenji had broken free from your arms, and he was running towards the door, barking loudly and scratching at the wood.

“Kenji, no!’ you half whispered half hissed, fully horrified. “Come back here!” 

But, the pup would not listen. He yelped and barked, tail wagging as if to lead right to your door. You heart squeezed, breath lodged in your throat when the thumping footsteps ceased. 

A stretch of silence.

The door blew open and you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop screaming. Kenji was beyond ecstatic, wagging his tail, bounding up and down, and the second the dust settled, a voice you never dreamed of hearing again—too lost to the fugue of your grief—rattled you right to the core. 

“Buddy? Hey, Kenji—”

Kakucho. 

“Where’s your mommy?” 

His boots lining your vision underneath the bed, slowly turned to the corner, and Kenji whined. “Y/N? Baby?” 

You unglued your stiff limbs and stuck a hand out from the bed, gripping onto his ankle. He yelped and dropped Kenji, the pup whining loudly and slinking back to the edge of the room. 

A warm palm clasped around yours, hauling you up from under the bed and into the broad expanse of a familiar chest. You could’ve cried with relief. 

His face—his dear face which came alive from your memory—was blue-black with bruises, but the familiar lines of them never faded. Midnight blue hair mused, incongruous eyes filled with tears, there was little that could detract you from the astounding truth. 

Kakucho was home.

Your cries were muffled into his shoulder, his arms tight around you.

“Kaku,” you choked, unable to breathe. “I thought you… I thought you—”

“I know, I know,” he murmured in a pain-filled voice, and held onto you tighter. “I know, and I’m so sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to leave you like that. I led them to you because I didn’t think I would come back alive.”

You shushed his worries with a quick kiss to his parted lips, tasting his tears. “I know, baby. I understand. I—”

“Yo, I hate to really break this up, but we gotta go.” A bored voice in the form of one highly amused lilac-haired man standing by the doorway, in the same gear as your lover, broke the spell between you two. 

Kakucho huffed, and drew you closer to his side. “Can you run, angel?” You picked Kenji up and nodded, determined.

“Right beside you, Kaku.” 

His smile shouldn’t have melted you into a million pieces. My strong girl.

Ran covered for you and Kakucho while you both ran ahead, the scarred man’s palm in yours warm and reassuring despite the chaos expanding from Tenjiku’s touch. Desks were scattered, papers strewn everywhere. Chairs were upturned, and many, many cops were laying on the ground, bloodied but still breathing.

“Kaku—”

“This way.” He tugged your hand, leading you straight for the lobby door, when it swiveled open, and a familiar figure cut the way off to your path of freedom. Naoto’s eyes were livid, and the men beside him grim. Their bulletproof vests and state-certified guns trained on the ragtag band unmatched. 

“Naoto—”

“Just where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snarled, and trained his gaze to a stormy-faced Kakucho. “Really, Hitto? All this for a hostage? You Tenjiku scum are fucking insane—”

“Boss, watch out—!” 

Smoke exploded everywhere, and Kakucho barely had time to cover your face, ducking you down as bullets hailed around the room. Fogged up and reeling, your mind was in circles, spinning like a demented ballerina as the world tilted on its axis. 

Strong arms wrapped around you, voices fractured and someone screamed. Dizziness spread thorough your entire body; you could barely keep your eyes open. 

After that, the world went pitch black.

•

“—shoulda clapped that asshole.” 

“Not saying—justified—”

“Hey—shut up! She’s breathing…” 

“Angel? Can you hear me?” Above you, fracturing through a kaleidoscope, the most gorgeous pair of eyes in the world were staring at you in worry. You tried to loosen your tongue and speak, but it was weighed down with the lead of exhaustion and disorientation.

“Sorry, the smoke effects will disappear after a few minutes.”

You were in a moving car, your head perched on Kakucho’s lap, your body curled in the back seat. The city moved like a blur through the windowpanes, and you hazily fluttered your eyes open and shut, trying to reorient yourself.

Warm fingers brushed your face, coaxing you back to reality with a soft touch. “K-Kaku?”

“M’ here, angel,” he murmured softly. “You’re safe now.” 

Someone made a gagging sound in the front. “Sap.”

“For the love of—shut the fuck up, Haitani.”

You curled your fingers with his, dragging his palm to your cheek. “Mhm. Wha’happened?” 

“We busted you out from St. Lukes.”

Frowning, you were sure you heard wrongly. “Was anybody hurt?” 

Kakucho winced, and darted his gaze from yours. A telltale sign he was hiding something. “We’ll talk later, okay? Let’s get you back home.”

Home. It’s been awhile since that word resurfaced in your mind. You nodded, and sometime later, drifted back to sleep. Kakucho had to carry you out from the car, into the Haitani’s mansion on the outskirts of Tokyo, right at the fringes of another rural district. You woke up sometime around midnight, with your head propped on his chest, and his arm around your midsection.

He was staring up at the ceiling, startling lightly when you leaned forward to kiss his jaw. 

“Princess. Welcome back.” Your giggle warmed the chambers of his raw, untamed heart, and the crinkles in the corner of his mouth deepened with a smile when you leaned forward and kissed him.

It wasn’t a neat one, as evident from the light strings of spit joining your lips together, your noses bumping and teeth clacking. But, it was perfect to you. 

Kakucho parted a little ways, breathing slightly ragged. “Angel. As much as I want to really give into you right now, you’re still a bit weak. You need to rest.”

Though his words were sane, you could not stop the raw emotion bubbling in your chest, squeezing out in a gasp as you leaned forward to catch his lips again. Your fingers trembled when they reached the first button of his shirt, and he let you loosen at least three of them before strong hands wrapped around yours, stilling your progress.

“So stubborn.” 

He pushed you down onto the bed with a gentleness that tugged on your heart. Hovering above you, with his hair falling in neat waves, you parted them back with your palms cupping his cheeks, tracing his scar and features with the edges of your thumbs. 

“Hi,” you murmured shyly. Kakucho smiled, darting his eyes when you started lightly grazing the old gnarled skin of his scar right by his milky white orb, preferring to press a quick kiss to the pads of your fingers.

“Hey, yourself.” 

“I didn’t think you would come back.” 

That got his attention. He steadied his gaze on you, unflinching. Your thumbs stilled in their motion of retracing his features. “I would always come back. I told you, I… I love you. And I don’t let people I love go that easily.”

The ache laying dormant for weeks when you had to be separated from him, bubbled back to the surface like hot oil. Sparking everywhere with an almost feral devotion. You pulled him closer to you, lips meeting yours. Both your bodies moved in tandem, rolling in synchronity like waves rhythmically crashing to the shore. Finding a safe place back in each other’s arms.

Kakucho was the first to remove that godawful hospital gown off your body, his lips bruising a path down your slick body. First tasting the sweat in between your breasts, to kissing around your slightly pert tummy and down in between your legs.

“Looking so pretty,” he pressed the softest kiss onto the jut of your hip. “Carryin’ my baby and all. I love you so much, my angel.”

“Kaku,” you threaded your fingers in his hair, unable to cease the undulating motion of your hips. Begging without words for him to make it quick and filthy—to satisfy your burning need for him. He chuckled lowly, lifting your hips up.

“What is it, pretty? Use your words like a big girl, okay?”

Your mind turned fuzzy around the edges when his tongue dragged out to lap the length of your pubic bone, its roughened surface drawing goosebumps down your spine. 

“Mhm—want you ta’fuck me.” 

“Fuck you?” he murmured, pressing another infuriating kiss just above your shining seam. You were already wet and aching for him. “What else, angel?”

You bit your lower lip, unsure of the lengths he would go to get you begging for his cock. But, if there was one thing you knew about your lover, is that he loved to hear you beg. 

“I want you to… touch my pussy.” 

A sinful chuckle, warm and rich, danced off his tongue. “Just a touch?” 

Infuriating bastard! You tossed your head back when he started nipping and sucking your inner thighs. “Ugh—want you to—t-to give me your cock, Kaku. Need ya s’bad.”

He clicked his tongue. “Seriously, princess? You forgot your manners, huh, you filthy little girl?” 

It clicked into you the same moment his fingers shoved themselves roughly into your twitching hole as punishment for your disregard. “Fuck—oh, please!” Grasping onto his wrist, you tried to ground yourself to no avail, his fingers working in you so good, your toes started to curl in his periphery. “Mhmph—please fuck me!” 

Evidently pleased with your surrender, he started eating you out in earnest. God, you had missed this. Every lick, suck and nip was driving you down the deep end, towards the strongest orgasm of your life. What your mind had forgotten during those desolate weeks you were torn away from him, your body could still remember, quickly lapsing into the motions of your gyrating hips and raspy moans.

Kakucho, for his part, was devouring your flavour, missing how you melted on his tongue. Those beautiful eyes flitted up to you. The curve of your belly, slightly more pronounced now was the safe haven where he rested his large palm on.

“Beautiful.”

His whisper made you warm in the cheeks. But, it was nothing compared to how he removed his clothes—slowly, at first, and then it all fell to the ground in a heap of expensive black cotton. You eyed his stiff length, biting down harder on your lower lip. Kakucho clicked his tongue and freed your plump flesh from the grip of your teeth, giving you a soft kiss as he lined his weeping tip to your aching hole.

Stars burst in the back of your closed lids, mimicking the scores of red down his back from your fingernails. Your heels dug into his hips, holding on for dear life as he started a pace that made you buck and choke from the pleasure. Those celestial lights danced in the fringes of your mind as your desperate mouth sought his, brushing hurried kisses sloppily onto his parted mouth. 

Kakucho’s groan reverbrated right into your soul, especially when you reached between your bodies to toy with your clit, whining and eyes scrunched closed from the surmounting pressure. The need to finally break free and wail out your pleasure. You didn’t know where you were, or how you even got here. You didn’t know if Naoto was alive, or if any of the doctors and civilians were harmed in this risky rescue mission.

All you needed to feel, taste and hear was Kakucho coming undone for you. 

“Please,” your stuttered words mimicked your jerky hips. “Need to cum. Need you to c-cum.”

“Close,” he struggled to speak, your tight, clenching heat far too beguiling and distracting for him. “I’m close, angel.”

You squeaked when you felt him bat your hand away, his thumb replacing your measly efforts at getting yourself off, catching on the fat pearl of flesh that throbbed with every rasp of his rough fingerpad. 

“God,” you mewled, “M’close!” 

Kakucho’s brows were knitted, a shadow of a snarl lingering around the corners of his beautiful lips. “So good f’me. Missed you s’much. I love you, baby. I love you, Y/N. Cum for me.”

Unable to hold back the dam from flooding over, you let it fracture and break. Giving in fully to the rapture.

You screamed out his name and he groaned yours, heavy breaths bouncing off the walls, the sheets slick with sweat, your juices and copious amounts of pre. In this sea of black, Kakucho was the only thing you could hold onto, and you peeled your teary gaze onto his, those sliver of mismatched orbs flickering towards the back of his head as he pumped you full of his seed.

Shivering, your walls were completely melted around his length, your heart susceptible.

Your lover held you fast to his chest like a promise, his lips in your hair. Rocking you gently, trying to get you down from the imminent high.

He shushed your ceaseless mewls, placing soft kisses on the crown of your head. “I love you,” his soft voice was a rope around your ankle that kept you from floating above the atmosphere. “I missed you so much, doll.”

“Missed you, too,” you sleepily murmured, hand coming to rest on your belly. “Baby missed you s’much, too. Kenji… he’s here?”

“Down the hall,” Kakucho hummed. “Wouldn’t think to leave without ‘im.”

His larger hand rested on yours, lacing with your fingers over the soft swell of your stomach. “We have so much to discuss, baby.”

You nodded, pushing back the fog of exhaustion. “Y-yeah. So much to discuss. But, can we do it tomorrow? M’so tired.”

His laughter ruffled the loose strands of hair around your face. “You wouldn’t be this tired if you just listened and not tried to seduce me, you little minx.”

The curve of your smile was a flash of gold in the half-light. Kakucho would spend eons sifting through the dirt for that shine, brushing it off and polishing it til it sang of good safeguarding by his steady hands. There was nothing he desired even more than to make you happy for the rest of his life.

“Is everyone s-safe?” you spoke around a stuttering yawn. “Your friends? You? Naoto?”

“Naoto was roughed up by Ran but he’ll live. I can’t say the same for Rindou’s nose, though.”

“Broken?”

“Smashed in. Would need medical attention after he ices it off.”

“Do you wanna go tend to him?” you frowned, tightening your hold on his hand. Kakucho pressed a kiss to the rise of your shoulder in reassurance.

“Nah. Wanna stay here with you. He bitches a lot.”

You had to giggle at that. 

Though the hours were late, there was so much to go over with; so much uncertainty for the both of you to wade through. 

The reality of what transpired, the bruises you noticed pockmarking his skin, the baby you both still haven’t come to terms with, what would happen after this. Where you would lay your head and call home. What was in the future for the both of you. 

Yes, there were many mountains to overcome; those peaks which touched the clouds almost breaching the bubble of serenity wrapped around both your dozing forms.

But, for now, you wanted to cherish this castle in the sky you built together with him for a little while longer. 

Just for tonight before you both had to come back to the ground again.

a/n. i worked hard on this so feedback & rbs are sincerely appreciated !!

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

NOT JEWISH BUT IT'S SAFE BUT BEWARE it's safe for anyone who's willing to try and accept others

reblog this if you’re jewish or your blog is a safe space for jewish people

in light of recent events as well as a new rise in creating nazi ocs I think this post is an important one to have on your blog if you stand behind your jewish followers or are jewish yourself.

if cis gay men can use she/her pronouns then trans gay men can too. cis gay people are not the only people who are gender non-conforming and trans gay men are more than allowed to use she/her.

if cis gay men can use she/her pronouns then trans gay men can too. cis gay people are not the only people who are gender non-conforming and trans gay men are more than allowed to use she/her or have a complex connection between their sexuality and their gender. trans gay men are allowed to be gnc too

Jealousy? Or Insecurity

Imaushi Wakasa

Tw: jealousy, Sub!Wakasa, use of Babydoll, Haitani Ran x OC, praise and little degradation, Crying Wakasa, female reader, touchy with someone other than their partner, setting switching, smug reader, Dom!reader kind of yapping at the end (tell me if i missed anything) wellcome for the POC readers ;))

Pairing(s): Imaushi Wakasa ; reader

Genre(s) : romance/smut

WC :> 3,379

Enjoy

Wakasa was a simple man. Money, power and pussy. He had it all, and it's safe to say he was satisfied.

Getting women to swoon over him wasn't a hard thing for him to do, unlike one of his best friends (Shinichiro 💀). It came naturally to him throughout his lifetime.

When he was younger, 17 or so , he was already surrounded by women because of his powerful status. Being the former leader of Kodo Rengo and one of the original members of the black dragon's, he was bound to get surrounded by admirer's. Good or bad. And that's how he met his girlfriend of five years.

Of course, before dating him, wakasa made sure you understood his lustful lifestyle. Filled with wine and women and his 'wonderful' vices.

Compared to before, wakasa was definitely more tame in his sex life, only turning to you once in a while when he truly can't keep himself together. But even he, can't help but steal a glance or two, or three....... Or more of wonderful backsides that some women carry. It's one if the many uncountable reasons that he was attracted to you.

Working as a bartender at a world class bar as a side job to wakasa was easy enough. But having tens if not hundreds of beautiful women crowding 'round the place all day, makes it harder for him to work, with them asking for his addy too.

Today wakasa was stressed. His client, at the gym, got into a car crash, and he only knew when his client landed in the hospital. And on top of that, Takeomi got into a fight, though winning, he got badly hurt. So wakasa took a day to distress at the same bar he worked in.

Walking into the bar, he was swarmed by the classy women, young and old, curvy and petite, tall and short. It would be heaven, if he didn't have a girlfriend. He didn't entertain them and just gave the same boring replys, not disrespectful but not enough to continue any conversation.

"Hello","hey","what's up?"

Were his go-to replies.

He walked to the heart of the club, where all the dancers and the bar was closest to. He sat down and ordered a drink.

"1 Night Tripper thank you" he cupped his face with his hand and leaned onto it, lazy eyes glancing around the club.

It was always this face and that face, not a single person he couldn't remember seeing. While he was deep in his mindless thoughts, a pair of brothers sat next to him.

"Hey wakasa! Whatcha doin here?" The infamous Roppongi duo was seated next to him.

"Hey. Had to get my mind off things." His monotonous voice could barely mask the stress.

They conversed for a while before a women in a wine red dress, hardly covering anything, came over and sat on wakasa's lap, her large bittocks pressung against him. Wakasa froze, relishing it the feeling of a nice ass on him. But, regaining his self control, he softly pushed the woman and grabbed the empty chair next to him, sitting her down and continued talking with the brothers.

"Hey [Name]! Isn't that your boyfriend and the Hentai brothers over there?"

You took a peak, and indeed, there were the men that your friend mentioned.

"Amina it's Haitani, not Hentai, that makes a completely new word hun, I'll work on the pronunciation with you later wh-"

"Hey who's that bitch with your boyfie!" Amina jabbed a slender finger in their direction.

You met Amina through a marketing course half a year ago, and despite not knowing her for long, you two were like two peas in a pod, her firey attitude and confident aura intriguing you, her steady, powerful voice when she talks, the unwavering steps she takes as she walks, her down to earth self, made you want to be around her (which was surprising considering your lack of want for people swarming around you), yet not once has befriending her make you regret it.

This time, it wasn't a peak that you made at the men. Your head snapped to them so hard if you weren't so furious it would give you whiplash. 'What in the rubber duckies was wakasa doing, letting that girl practically lay on him!'

"Girl I'll go deal with the lil ass, you go get yourself a fine man k? Infact i feel like you and Ran would hit it off!" Clapping your hands excitedly, but once remembering that you were angry right now, You were about to storm over a confront him, but you decided to have a little fun.

Giving Amina a slight shove towards the older brother cunningly, "Go talk to Ran, he's the one with the cocktail, don't distract Rindou tho, he's talking to wakasa"

Amina stumbled a bit, but was thankful that you encouraged her to talk to the man she's been eyeing all night.

"Thanks babes~ mwah 💋 " she wiggled her fingers in a wave and went over to Ran.

Waving in acknowledgement , you turned back to the scene in annoyance.

Seeing Rindou talk to him, gave you an idea, not the brightest one, but an idea nonetheless.

You've known the Haitani's for as long as you could remember. They saw you at a park when you were young and challenged you to a pull up contest on the monkey bars. They were strong, no doubt, but you being the competitive person you are, didn't stop even when your arms were dying. Eventually, you won, the challenge and their respect. And you know damn well they both love a little drama.

Strutting over on front of the purple haired male, you gave him a sultry greeting. Ignoring the look Wakasa was giving you.

"Hey Rin Rin~" stroking his cheek with your red tipped index finger, you placed a knee right beside his thigh, leaning into him, black-based and gold rimmed cocktail dress enhancing your figure. Sensing your intentions with his drama dececter, he played along.

"Hey bunny, haven't seen you in a while, what's got you in this place" Rindou took his hand and brushed it along your thick thighs, squeezing once he got to the juciest part.

"Just a little bored, wanted to hangout with my girl-" the soft and breathy tone contrasted the hard smirk that was plastered onto your smug face when you heard a screech come from the chair behind you, the chair Wakasa was sitting in.

Wakasa couldn't handle it anymore, how could you! Right in front of him too? He stormed to the dim exit of the club, fiotsteps so heavy, that if you stood near him you could feel the vibration in the floor.

Grinning at Rindou, you knew your plan had worked, you pat his shoulder before pinching his cheeks between your pointer and thumb.

"Thanks Rin, we'll catch up next time kay~?" Rindou nodded in reply, a Cheshire grin taking over his usual stoic expression.

"Tell me how it goes" he winked before gesturing you to leave.

"Go get 'im!" I gave a firm nod, and waved good bye to Rindou, Amina was keeping Ran busy so o didn't try to interrupt their time together.

I walked after the jealous man, a slight skip in my step, knowing i had him right where i wanted.

I saw wakasa walking towards the bus stop. Amusement was evidently plastered on ny face. Softly i walked after him, and hooked my arms around his waist. Hearing a soft gasp from him i chuckled to myself. I lifted him up bridal style and walked back to the Kawasaki Ninja H2R. Keys in mouth, and a crabbed Wakasa in my arms.

"What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way" I airily sighed. Wakasa only crossed his arms, hands clenching the sleeves of his shirt, jutting his rosy lower lip out, forming a cute pout, if not for the situation at hand.

I put the man down, and cliimbed onto my beloved bike, Wakasa gingerly following after. He loosely gripped onto the clothing resting on the side of my hips.

I started the bike, letting him do whatever he wants, 'hmph! Lil boy gon' regret this' i smirked cynically, thankful that i was the driver, rendering my boyfriend blind to my actions. I was crusing for around 5 or so minutes and put my plan into action. I leaned slightly forward, not enough for him to notice a difference, and 'SCREECH' a sudden speed up and swerve of the bike made wakasa clutch onto his lover for dear life.

"[NAME] WHAT THE FUCK!" his gruff hands gripping onto your stomach, squeezing so hard, it made you wince a bit. Legs clammed to the sides of the bike, and best of all, lean arms crushing my curvy waist. I let out a boisterous laugh, into the wind it flows and then its gone. From my side mirror i see wakasa give me a soft smile but quickly replace it with a grumpy frown.

As we arrived, wakasa hopped off the bike, while i was turning off the engine. Swaying his wide hips, and strode his way to the front door.

He opened the door and started to go straight to bed. Huffing and puffing as if explaining his displeasure to me. I tsked, swooping him up from Infront of him, making him cling onto me instinctively. I grinned wildly to myself, and locked the door with on hand. Taking him up to our bedroom, i roughly sat him on the bed.

"Care to tell me why the waist of a bitch was in your grasp?" I asked, angry of course, but i wanted him to explain.

"WHY'D YOU CARE" Wakasa raised his voice at me challengingly. I quirked an eyebrow up.

"Why would i care? Well maybe because you're my BOYFRIEND?" I was livid, what in the world was he thinking!

"You want attention? Strip." Wakasa looked confused at my words.

"Did i fucking stutter baby?" I cooed sarcastically. "Strip."

Wakasa shakily took off his fishnet shirt, revealing his body that was once scattered in love marks, now completely bare. Then he unbuckled his belt, and took it into his hands. Not going to lie, it was crazy sexy, belt in hand, red in the face, leather pants hugging all the right places, especially his thick ass. God how i wanted to grab it. He peeled off the tight pants too, leaving him in short, tight lace boxers.

"Did i tell you to leave anything on your body?" I gave his ass a quick smack, quickly placing my finger in his waistband, I pulled it back and let it go, hearing a lovely gasp from him. He huridily ripped off his black boxers, hands practically quivering, from excitement or fear, I don't care. In spite of me being vexed, i still adored him. So i took it as my job to calm him down.

"Calm down babydoll, I'm only going to teach you a lesson alright? You feeling good?" I combed through his silky smooth hair, tugging on it slightly. "Y-yeah, m' sorry" the zebra 🦓 haired man stuttered in his quivering voice.

"We'll talk about why you're sorry later okay baby?" I softly slapped his face. "You let another women get all over you cuh' you were deprived righ'? I 'pologize f'that babydoll, works been callin, but i managed ta'get the next few day off f'ya" i caressed the spot i slapped lovingly, "righ' now imma show ya'don ha'ta go to other women kay~ cuh' babydoll can com'ta me kay?" Wakasa nodded softly, to every beat i said, a thick coat of pink painted his face.

I took the stunning dress off myself, leaving me in red, silk underwear, I placed him on the bed, and stood between his legs. Taking his milky calves, I placed them on my shoulder. "I won't stop till the break of dawn makin love to you baby"

Wakasa's dick was stood, slightly curving to the left, crying white. His thighs were flexing, while his arms wrapped around his chest. Vibrant violet eyes crystallizing with his tears. I looked at him expectantly, and he unwrapped his arms on instinct. I pulled him closer to me, leaning down to kiss his tears away, and scratch the back of his soft neck. I moved vertically, moving my wet mouth to his nipples. I sucked on it softly, earning a well deserved moan. Just to get revenge, i bit on it, not enough to bleed, just enough to make it hurt. Wakasa jerked upwards, eyes blown wide, pupils doubling in size, a raspy howl escaping from his voice.

"Hush up babyboy" I mumbled against his chest, kissing the spot i bit. I tipped back, to capture him whole with my eyes. I let out a soft heave, "you, you look beautiful, the sole reason my eyes exist, are to admire you" while talking, i caress his glutes. "Thank you, i wonder why you even chose me."

At his words, my eyes widen. He looked so.... Down. I thought of everything, starting from the club, his words, his actions, to now. It all added up.

"I mean, you're ethereal, amazing hair, lovely eyes, proportional nose, plump lips, symmetry is proven with your face! The best body any woman could have! You could have anyone you want, hell, you could even have Johnny Depp in his prime! How did I end up with you?" Wakasa was sobbing, the more he thought about it, the more worthless and low he felt.

"Babydoll, I chose you, you're beautiful, in and out. Fashion sense is immaculate, unlike most men, lean not over the top muscle, and can fight, heavenly voice, if i lost my life yet you're talking to me on my deathbed, baby I'd say, heaven can wait. Don't even get me started on your personality!" I tugged him closer to me, caging him in my arms, reassuring him that im not letting him go anywhere.

"I'm not the jealous type, but what's mine, is mine, and stays mine. And I'm sure as hell ian' letting you go. End of story." I placed soft kisses on his temple, whispering sweet nothings to him, holding him tight. Slowly yet surely, he was calming down.

"You rock my world babydoll, and you're gonna keep rocking it till you can't no more" i fell into the cloudy mattress with him under me, clinging on as if he lets go, I'd decay into fine salt.

I softly pushed him down so i can get up. "Take it off~" Wakasa whined as he tugged at my bra. I smirked endearingly, "take what off babydoll?" Wakasa was getting frustrated, the water that had dripped onto the ground, almost returned back to his indigo eyes. I slightly panicked, "Don't cry baby! I'll take it off im sorry" although nervous, i still giggled. I unclasp the back of the chest binder, freeing my breasts. Wakasa earnestly gazed at them, and pounced.

Throwing my head back, i moaned. The sound making Wakasa jerk up, dick slapping my bare cunt, suckling on my tits as if i was gonna produce milk.

"Doll, t-th~ha that's eno~oHhh" i pushed his head back, despite his soft protests. Wakasa gripped onto the back of my thighs, hips bucking up frantically. Holding down his hips, i told him, "dolly, i needa' open m'self up f'ya, you're big~" i flicked the pink mushroom tip of his long cock, his veins pulsing, it was obvious he was desperate, but I wasn't going to break my ribs just cause he was craving, and i didn't prep myself.

Sitting vertically opposite to him, i took two fingers and spread myself open, showing him my glistening pussy. Scooping up some of the honey that's dripping, and took it near my face. Opening my fingers, i watch as the string of necter attach from on finger to the other, i brought it into my mouth, maintaining eye contact with Wakasa, i sucked on the juices sensually. Bringing my saliva-coated fingers down to my hole. Massaging the gummy walls, going faster and faster. "Oh~hHh Waka~aHhh" "[N-Name]~ p-please~ i wannah' cum~"

The once tears of saddness quickly trned to tears of despration. Watching you, neck cranned back, hands working away on your pussy, juices dripping like a creak, hips jerking, made him want to bury himself whole in yout warm cushiony and inviting pussy. Wakasa stroked his lengthy cock, bucking his hips into his large hands, wishing it was your warm cunt instead. He was so close yet so far.

Promptly, you ceased your movements, causing the sweaty, glossed man follow in dubiety.

"c'mere baby" You pat the pillowed spot between your legs, loving the way that the love of your life follows order so well, in bed at least. Hair drooping, saliva dripping and the sounds of Wakasa's whining filled your senses. Encouraging him to relax, you croon "that's it baby, slowy does it".

Once Wakasa kneeled between your bare legs, you laid a pillow down for him to rest his head on.

"you good there doll?" reciving a nod of affirmation, you continued your ministrations.

Spreeding your prepped cunt for him to see turned the pussy craving man get hungrier, his normally droopy eyes blown wide, lips swollen from him biting it. He tried to sneakily buck his strong hips up, but you stopped him right before his tip touched your folds.

"a-ah-ah~ patience doll" Not giving him a mere second for him to process your words, you slammed yourself down on his grith.

Shamelessly rolling your hips up and down on his grithy length, pussy smashing his pelvic bone. A course of "y-YEAHHH~"'s and "NgnG"s forced themselves out of your mouth, the pure lust and passion oozing in the air can even make Asmodeus say hell nah.

Riding dick wasn't easy, but for the ethereal beauty under her, [Name] would do anything. For his pleasure she could slave away anytime. Cause at the end of the day, to [Name], a happy lover, a happy life. Getting to hear his sounds of love and appreciation, was enough of a reward for her, in fact, she couldn't ask for more.

"Pretty bitch, perfect doll, jeal-haah-jealousy is one h-nhg-ell of ah~ one hell of a disease h-huh." Panting as it felt as if his cock was prodding at my lungs.I noticed a little bulge in my tummy, as I pressed on it, it gained his attention. Moaning,he started to buck his hips up even harder. This time i couldn't stop him, as i was getting tired and restless. I ket him do what he want.

I flipped us over, making me place myself under his strong arms. I grabbed a handful of his ass and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer, burying his stem inside my soft, gummy walls.

He pounded his dick into me, not wasting a fraction of a second, gritting his teeth and gripping the sheets. The steel bedframe clashed and clanked with the brick wall, probably irritating the single 26 old neighbour with a dead girlfriend. the neighbour with blue eyes and black hair.

"Please! Please-Please, Please" The whines and wails of Wakasa almost drove you off the edge if the earth, barley stopping before reaching the ledge.

"Cum!" I gripped his tousled hair and pulled, making his head snap back and his back arch, leading his chest to crash into mine, and causing him to bully his dick even further into my cunt.

"YESS/FUCKK" both individuals moaned simultaneously, the sound coming out as bell chimes and harp strings up in heaven. Pure ecstasy flowed to every inch of their bodies, the passion staying throughout the night yet the lust slowly vanishing.

The night ended with one lovers feelings solved, and both cradled in the others warm, homey, inviting embrace. The glow of the sun of dawn shinning through the silk curtains, and the soft, dank night disappearing into the horizon lulled both the lovers to sleep.

..................

"GIRL YOU PROMISED TO TELL ME THE DETAILS. RAN AND AMINA HAVE BEEN GOING AT IT ALL NIGHT AND NOW I NEED A DISTRACTION! DON'T IGNORE ME JSBSHDGSKBCSKSMNDDJLSN"

@awoogaboogahehehehehehe

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