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highpri3stess · 1 year

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Deadly Affairs: Bonten x Reader, mikey x reader

chapter 1: in the beginning

pairing: bonten x bonten member! reader, manjiro 'mikey' sano x reader (main)

chapter warning: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, DUBCON, bonten timeline, fem reader, power imbalance, implied torture, flashing, alcohol/drug use, slight manipulation, drunk sex, public sex, fingering (f. recieving), virginity loss (reader), unprotected sex (creampie), rough sex, dirty talk, use of sir, degradation, slut shaming. (implied sanzu x reader). minors dni

summary: what better way to end your birthday night than to fuck your boss in his car?

word count: 4.4k words

BONTEN, one of the most dangerous organizations that has ever arisen from Japan and possibly, the world. Led by men born from the era of brutality, Japan had never seen such a business successful with covering the tracks of organized crime as much as BONTEN has.

Despite the brutal murders, torture chambers, human and drug trafficking and even bodies found with teeth missing and finger prints skinned off, the police could never completely trace it back to BONTEN. They knew it would have something to do with such a deadly corporation, but as far as the higher ups and Japan's government were concerned, they were just business men with the usual ethical issues.

Anyone who tries to dig in too deep will face Bonten's hammer of judgment.

It's the life you've grown accustomed to for a while ever since Kokonoi had picked you up from the street.

Poverty made you sell your morals to the devil in the designers before you could regret it; Bonten sponsored your university course in accounting, trained you how to use a gun and taught you how important you were to them. Their best asset, worthy enough to join them as executives and rule Japan with an iron fist.

That is, if you'll ever get promoted to an executive after all the years of waiting.

"When is my flight for Makarti scheduled?"

You break out of your thoughts and raise your head to meet the dark eyes of the man sitting in front of you with his head down, Hajime Kokonoi, the man who took you out of the gutters to become his personal assistant who helped with calculations, estimates and other errands.

"It's supposed to be by twelve," you say, preparing yourself for his complaint as you explain the situation. "But your private jet needs a few maintenance checks before it's ready for your flight, so I had to shift it to two pm."

You waited for him to say anything to berate you for not doing the maintenance checks yesterday like he told you to, but instead he kept his head on the work he was doing and brushed it off. "That's good, I have some meetings to attend to anyways, so I can avoid having extra work when I return. Also, you've gotten my suits from the dry cleaners?"

"Yes sir."

"And you've sent a message to Mochizuki and Kakucho about the change in flight times?"

"Yes sir."

The room falls silent, save for the noise coming from Kokonoi's fingers typing away on his laptop. You tap your feet lightly, waiting for either his next question or for him to dismiss you until he raises his head to look at you with confusion and annoyance written all over his features.

"Yes?" He stops typing to pay complete attention to you. "What are you still doing here?"

"Sorry sir" you immediately stand up from the chair with your bags and scramble for the door in haste, adjusting your dress that had ridden up to your thigh. The last thing you wanted was for him to scold you again with disapproving eyes glaring down on you. Hajime Kokonoi was very hard to please and easy to anger, you could never tell when his switch would flip and you don't like being around whenever it did.

You don't see the way Kokonoi's eyes rest on the curve of your ass strained against the office skirt you had worn today, before looking down your legs as you struggled to open his large office doors.

"Wait."

You stop halfway, leaving the door half-open as you turn to the man sitting some feet away from you. Kokonoi rests his angular jaw on his intertwined fingers before clearing his throat. "I just remembered that you would be joining Manjiro, Haruchiyo and Takeomi for a meeting tonight."

You feel the blood in your veins turn cold as you process Kokonoi's words, your fingers curl around the door handle tighter than before, anchoring you to the ground and keeping you from stumbling at the news. Kokonoi doesn't miss the way your face turns sour at the news he had broken, and frankly, he can't exactly blame you for your reaction. The top three executives are frightening, even more brutal than he himself was, especially when it came to you.

"I'm giving you the rest of the day off to prepare." He goes back to his laptop screen and keeps working on the audit he was doing before. The world of the yakuza cares for no man, and if you despise someone, either you kill them or you stick to them like glue. "Someone will come get you by 7pm so be ready by then. You can go now."

The room goes quiet again. Kokonoi can feel your questioning glare asking him why he would break his promise of not letting those men come near you, again.

"Yes sir."

You stomp out of the room angrily and the door slams shut after you, leaving Kokonoi all by himself to keep doing his work. He had to admit, the head on top of your shoulders wasn't just for decoration, you actually do know how to use it.

You knew better than to ask him questions.

THE noise from the club was deafening the moment you stepped into the place.

Once upon a time, Ran had told you he and his brother used to rule this place with an iron fist, before finding a much smarter way to make everyone submit to them. Now, practically all the clubs littered around Japan, including this one Manjiro Sano had decided to be the venue of the meeting, belong to them in Bonten's name.

Dressed in a sequined two piece cream top and skirt paired with heels, you certainly turned heads with your looks. You could hear whispers of men and women asking about who you were, seeing as you walked up to the V.I.P area with an air of confidence, somewhere only known Bonten members, business partners of Bonten or unlucky women foolish enough to entertain any executive were allowed to enter.

As expected, the guards in charge stopped you in your tracks. You could practically feel the predatory gazes of the men aimed at your choice of clothes, oozing lust, before flickering into disapproval at how you were dressed.

"V.I.Ps only."

His tone was condescending for someone that stares at you like a piece of meat, although it was nothing new to you when it came to the men in Bonten. You don't pay mind to his attitude, instead lifting up your skirt partially to reveal the Bonten tattoo on your inner thigh. You could see his eyes practically entranced by the flesh of your thighs and the panties peeking through the skirt, greedily absorbing the details of every inch of skin as you lowered your skirt down.

You blame Kokonoi for letting you go through with that idea. Flashing people to reveal your tattoo isn't exactly ideal for you.

"Can I go in now?" You say and without waiting for them to finish, you push past them and got into the entrance to the V.I.P lounge.

IF you had a nickel for everytime Kokonoi lied to you about something, you would be extremely wealthy by now.

You could see the collection of wine bottles distributed across the tables, each to every individual's taste. Smoke billowed around the area, mixing with the scent of weed and alcohol. Voluptuous women were strewn on their laps, sides and even at their feet, smiling and pouring drinks, talking loudly or laughing at something they said.

This is not a meeting. This was a private party and you want nothing to do with it.

Haruchiyo, Bonten's number 2, is the first person to notice you awkwardly standing there and staring at the rest of them in horror and shock. His lips break out in a smile aimed at you, calling your (name) loudly and garnering everybody's attention, including Manjiro Sano who looked tired and bored, despite the woman who was sitting on his lap and feeding him. "(Name), the birthday girl is here, come sit down."

'Birthday girl? Does this look like a party I would like to attend? Who planned this?'

You mindlessly walked towards the space Haruchiyo had made between him and Manjiro, and sat there stiffly. You notice Haruchiyo hasn't touched his drinks or drugs at all, as if he was waiting for you to see this madness while he was sober. Electricity runs down your spine as he leaned so close to your ears, lips brushing it lightly to whisper; "So, do you like it? Boss said I could plan it however I wanted since Kokonoi wasn't around and you weren't answering my calls."

So that's why he was calling you.

You wanted to slap yourself across the face. This was a situation you could have avoided.

You glance briefly at Manjiro who was following (or trying to) a conversation the chatty escort he had hired had started. Your gazes meet briefly and you shyly avert your eyes away back to your lap.

Of course it was him that gave Haruchiyo the reins to host this party. Who else could do something like this?

You sigh weakly and turn to Haruchiyo, who was still waiting for your answer with a huge expectant grin on his lips. It wasn't like you could tell him the truth about how this party felt like it was for the men of Bonten and not for you.

"It's um…" you forced a smile at him before you continued lying. "... nice. Thank you sir."

A sigh of relief escapes your lips when his grin widens. You feel his arm drape over your shoulders, drawing you closer to his body. He dips his head into the crook of your neck, hot breath dancing along your body as he whispers in your ear again.

"Anything for you princess."

You sit frozen when he pulls away from you and goes back to the escort he was chatting with as if he didn't just make your heart race. You didn't get to think about it for long when a wine glass is put right in front of your face. Manjiro does not look at you as he shakes the wine glass in your face and you take it from him, trying to ignore the electricity running through your fingertips that brushed his.

"Thank you sir."

"Try to relax." His voice is low enough for only you to hear him speak. Your body grows hotter when he turns his gaze completely on your body, slowly scanning your attire for the evening before focusing on your face again. "We're not punishing you this time."

You nod quickly, making a huge effort to keep the glass in your shaking hands. Being so close to Manjiro Sano and Haruchiyo Akashi proved to be more difficult than it should have been. Was it the fear that had been instilled into you by these men themselves?

Or was it the fact that you were surrounded by the constant reminders of your twisted sexual fantasies?

"A toast, to the birthday girl!" Ran's loud voice brings you out of your thoughts and you absent mindedly raise your glass up into the air. Whatever it is you feel about them doesn't matter, you couldn't afford to get anymore involved with Bonten beyond office contact.

"To life and a fatter ass!"

You don't notice Manjiro watching you as you scowl before faking a laugh and repeating. "To life and a fatter ass."

"YOU didn't like the party."

You don't say anything in response, with the light hum of the car's engine serving as the only sound in the vehicle and opting to look out of the window instead, watching the cars drive past yours. Of course it's a no-brainer that you absolutely hated everything tonight, hell even your mood has been sour throughout to the point Manjiro Sano noticed and offered to take you home early when you said you were tired.

He sighs after a while, now looking out of his own window to distract himself from the way your skirt rode up to reveal the flesh of your thighs. "I'm sure Haruchiyo tried his best given how he is with you."

Something in you snaps at that moment and you face him with annoyance in your eyes. You were just about done with the way he kept digging the knife deeper into your gut. "I had plans for the evening Mr. Sano." You put it bluntly, not caring if he took offence to your words or just ignored you completely. "I did not ask for anything. I'm beginning to think you do this to make me miserable."

Your frown only deepens when you hear him chuckle quietly before turning around to face you with a curious look written all over his face. Somehow, seeing you upset made you cuter in his eyes; You always looked so vulnerable in times like these, whether you're walking on eggshells around him or outright being ungrateful to him. Maybe it's the alcohol giving you an extra boost to speak your mind, and he'll allow it for now because he wants to hear what you have to say.

It won't go unpunished though.

"What were the plans you had for this evening?"

Manjiro doesn't miss the way your face contorts slightly into an uncomfortable smile. It's not like he didn't know anyways, he had overheard your discussion with his assistant about what you wanted to do about two weeks ago and it was what made him call Haruchiyo to plan the most disastrous party ever to stop you from going ahead with your plan.

"It's nothing, never min-"

"I know you wanted to hook up with some idiot you met, don't play coy with me."

You swallowed hard at his harsh tone, flickering your eyes anywhere but his face. The ridiculous last minute party made sense now that he had ripped the band aid off. Manjiro must have heard of your plans to hook up with someone you had met, since Kokonoi never let you even breathe in peace or left you alone whenever you wanted to do something.

"Today was my only chance and you ruined it." Your voice cracks slightly as you hiss at him. It was frustrating honestly, the one time you had to yourself without Bonten breathing down your neck, they found a way to make you even more miserable. "I have needs too for god's sake! I have a life outside being your lackey-"

"So you were going to let some lowlife stick his dick into you because you can't keep your legs shut."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

You try to reply to him again but no words come to your head. You can only close your mouth and look at your lap; it's unbelievable that he was berating you for wanting some form of intimacy in your life after being so pent up and going through so much shit. "So what do you expect me to do Mr. Sano?" Your voice is bitter but you didn't care any more at this point. "Ask Kokonoi to fuck me? Or should I go to Ran or Haruchiyo? Or …"

A smile makes its way to your face the moment an idea pops into your mind. You raised your head sharply towards him and jabbed a finger into his broad chest to buttress your point. "Or should I ask you to do it? To corrupt and taint me?"

"Stop that"

"Do you want to fuck me, Mr. Sano? Is that why you hate seeing me with those low-lifes? Is that it?"

"Don't start something you know you can't finish, (name)" it's a stern warning and you know Manjiro Sano isn't just being petty as he usually is, he's getting riled up from your constant taunting. "Or else."

But you don't listen to him. Even though you know from past experience that angering your volatile boss could end up with a bullet embedded in your brain, you push yourself closer to his body until you were flush against him, watching him stiffen as you lowered your lips next to his ear and rested your hand on his muscular thigh. It's obvious you're not thinking straight since you've had a couple of drinks and he's trying to keep that in mind, especially when you begin to trace a line towards his crotch area.

"Or else what, Mr. Sano?"

It happened so fast you could barely comprehend how he had you on your back to the seat with his body hovering over yours. Bleach blond bangs frame his face, highlighting the once empty, soulless eyes into darkened gazes full of lust and greed, hot breath hitting your face. A strong pale veiny hand pin your arms above your head, his knees separating your thighs, your jaw in a bruising grip of his other hand.

"S-sir-"

"A bit too late for that." He cuts you short, before turning his head to the driver of the vehicle. "Stop the car, now."

Your heart thuds loudly against your chest as the driver pulls the car into a dark corner hidden from the streetlights, coming to a stop. Manjiro does not ease up his grip, nor does he stop gazing into your soul as he tells the driver to "get out" in less than polite terms. You can hear the door of the car open and close quietly, along with the faint flicker of a lighter as the man walks away from the car.

With the two of you alone, Manjiro doesn't hesitate to crash your lips against each other in a messy kiss. Your boss wins the battle of dominance almost immediately with the sheer force he uses to force your mouth open with his hand so that he could explore your mouth. Your moans are silenced with each bruising kiss from him, his teeth grazing your lips before his tongue swipes over the marked place, engulfing your mouth with his until your lungs burn for air.

Moans of "sir" escaped your lips in sync with every wet kiss he placed on your face and cheek. Manjiro moves his lips from your lips, to your jaw and then settles onto your neck. The feeling of his teeth grazing your neck has you mewling and leaning into his touch. His hand leaves your jaw and quickly makes its way to your skirt, hiking it up a bit to reveal your panties and the Bonten tattoo on the plush of your inner thigh.

Manjiro pulls away from your neck and you let out an annoyed whine, already craving for his mouth on your neck again. His eyes sizes up the lace panties you had worn, a wet patch forming on it and he begins to trace a finger up and down your slit, teasing you through your panties. You let out a soft "hngh" from your lips as he moves to your clothed clit, rubbing tight circles, sending waves of electricity all over your lower region.

"Don't think 'i'm going easy on you." He mutters whilst pushing your soaked panties aside to reveal your bare cunt. A soft whine escapes your lips as two of his fingers start entering into your tight pussy, forcing its way into your walls until you accommodate the intrusion. "As soon as I'm done stretching out this cunt, I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

You don't get to reply as his fingers begin to move at a pace that has your body trembling.

His fingers curled into you, pumping them in and out of your pussy. A loud moan escapes your lips when his fingers brush that spot, making your eyes roll back and pussy pulse around his fingers. "You like that?" He whispers close to your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin, not letting up his rough finger fucking, curling his fingers even the more that has your legs shaking and the coil in your belly tightening. "Of course you do. You like it so much, look at how you're clenching on my fingers like a needy slut." His tone is mocking and yet, it only seemed to add fire to the flame.

Your body spasms in his hold, breathing fast as a violent orgasm rips through you until it becomes a dull throbbing and your head hangs while trying to catch your breath. Manjiro pulls away from your cunt and kneels upright. You peek through your lashes, watching him impatiently unbuckle his belt with one hand and toss it aside on the floor, followed by him working down the zipper and buttons of his pants, tugging it to his knees along with his boxers to reveal his thick, veiny cock springs free of its confines, drops of pre leaking from it.

He takes his dick in his free hand and smears the tip with pre before lining it up with your hole. A quiet groan escapes your lips as he rubs his length against your glistening pussy gathering all the slick, your heavy breathing matching his own. His grip on your hands above your head tightens, keeping you in place as he positions his tip in front of your entrance.

The pain when he pushes his tip into you is almost unbearable.

Your eyes snapped shut in response and you bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming as he slowly inched into you. "It'll be much easier for the both of us if you relax." He hisses at you, before reaching for your clit and circling it gently, trying to distract you from the pain. "Breathe, relax."

His words were like a mantra and you found yourself taking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying your hardest to relax. Slowly, the pain from being stretched out gave way to feeling so full for the first time until he was buried at the hilt. A groan escapes Manjiro's lips; the feeling of your velvety walls around his hard cock was divine and if he didn't have any ounce of self control he would have cum immediately. His hips experimental rolls against yours and the loud "Manjiro" you let out had his brain short circuiting.

Everything is a blur after that.

His pace is fast, angling himself to your g-spot and abusing it, the whole car shaking with the power of his thrusts. His finger plays with your clit, despite you screaming "too much sir, too much!" in between moans and trying to squirm away from his brutal ministrations.

"Don't run away now, (name), I'm just doing what you want. Look at how well you're doing for a virgin." He says in between pants, thrusting into you even faster. He doesn't miss the whimper escaping your lips as his tip abuses your g-spot repeatedly- in fact it only encourages him to keep up the pace. "You're so obedient, I like this version of you. Might make you my personal slut- shit-"

His balls tighten at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him at that sentence. Seeing him staring down at you condescendingly as he fucks into you hard is shamefully arousing, and your mouth can't help letting out loud moans of pleasure when his fat tip prods against your cunt.

The noises of skin slapping skin from the intensity of his thrusts in the car is obscene and noisy, you're sure the guard standing outside is well aware of what is going on.

He lets go of your clit briefly to put your leg on his broad shoulder, bringing you even closer to him and presses a hot, messy kiss on your lips, his tongue playing with yours again. You answer his kiss with another weak moan, the coil in your belly tighten once again with the urge to snap.

"Pathetic virgin" he laughs against your lips and moves his head to the crook of your neck. His grip tightens on your hand as he holds your trembling body in place. "I would have mistakened you for a slut if you weren't so fucking tight." His hips stutter, before regaining his pace again. He spits out darkly; "Since you're so cock hungry, maybe you should be our personal slut, huh? Bonten's cumrag?"

Maybe it's the alcohol coupled with the intense feeling of pleasure that has your mind completely dumb for him. Maybe it's because he's the one in control of everything as he rolls his hips into you, bringing you closer and closer to edge, his dark eyes clouded with lust and greed peering into yours that had you saying "yes, yes yes yes-" until your second orgasm washes over you, more intensely than the first and knocks you out completely soon after.

He falls over the edge too, pumping loads and loads of cum into you as he bucks into you with a few more thrusts, more than anything he's produced before until he's spent completely. He pulls himself away from your cunt immediately and sits on his heels, dark eyes watching cum leak out of your abused hole and pool down your cunt with interest. Manjiro's eyes flicker up to your face and realize you have passed out.

'It must have been too intense for you, huh.'

He releases your hands above your head, taking note of the finger shaped bruises warpped all over your wrists like a a bracelet and reaches for your bag to take out your wipes. He cleans the cum and specks of blood outside your cunt and tries to dab off the stain on the chair as well before tugging your skirt down and adjusting his pants. Wounding down the window of the car, Manjiro signs the driver outside to come in and he obeys immediately, putting out his cigarette on the concrete wall.

A sigh escapes his lips, in sync with the car engine revving up again. Manjiro's eyes flicker down to your sleeping figure that he's maneuvered to his lap and trails his gaze down to the marks littered all over your jaw and neck. Deft fingers circle around the swelling skin, still lost in thought about how pretty you look with his markings until he gets a rather risky idea.

For you, not for him though.

Manjiro reaches for his phone and angles his camera right onto your sleeping face, taking a picture of you all marked up and pressing the share button. Kokonoi's contact pops up on the screen and he starts to type something before pressing the send button and tossing the phone aside.

"Take us to my house. She'll sleep with me tonight."

_boss is typing…_

_boss: you're right. (name) is good for something other than running away_

_ *1 new attachment .jpg* _

_boss: she's also a good slut_

taglist: @mikeys-bike-slut , @obitohno , @anemptypuddingcup , @happygoluckyalexis , @mastermindenoshimaalicia , @haitaniwhor3 , @iheartamajiki , @pinksilk , @lostsomewhereinthegarden , @bontensbabygirl , @linn-a-a , @leilalago , @ranscutedoll , @lovelygeniegirl1012 , @crackheadwithtoes , @mercyboluthecrazychicken , @k3rrpii , @justanothernpcartist @colombia-chan (sorry it's late 😭)

network: @tokyometronetwork

#bonten x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader #mikey x reader smut #bonten x reader smut #bonten mikey smut #bonten mikey #manjiro sano smut

1K notes · View notes

andraxicated · 2 years

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(virgin) killer tendencies

Pairings: mikey x f! reader w/ slight bonten/ran

pov: losing your virginity before becoming a netflix documentary

Tags: suggestive/smut | dark themes | yandere | stockholm syndrome

a/n: always stay safe when going out with your friends!

"Any message you want to give to your friend? Or to her kidnapper?"

The girl on the tv sobs, her beautiful face contorting, her voice breaking as she stares into the camera, crushing your heart. The last time you saw her was years ago, back when you drank, danced, and died. You miss her so much, you miss everyone so much.

Dreams of being successful women went all down the drain just because of that cursed night. You really can't blame anyone because all of those was your fault, everything that lead to this moment was all on you.

You and your heartbroken, party girl tendencies.

"I just hope she's in a good place now, it's been years-I-I don't know what to say to her. I wished I'd been more of a good friend." She grabs a tissue from the box in front and uses it to clean her nose. "And to her kidnapper...In this life, we might not get the justice (y/n) deserves but I know...that you will burn in hell—"

"Baby~" A hushed whisper tickles your ears that makes you stand up straight, your heart pounding against your chest from the nervousness and fear of the man behind you. He clasps his large against yours on the stairs, soothing the tension out of your body. He then presses a wet kiss on your neck, calloused palms traveling down to the hem of your sweater dress.

"I suggest we go back up before he notices you sneaking on him. Mikey is scary when he's angry isn't he?"

"Mhm. I'm sorry." You say before taking one last look at the people on the tv. All of them have sad faces, empty smiles, tired eyes and you feel so sorry for them. Sorry for ruining the plans and sorry for not being able to hear your messages to me. Most of all, the biggest apology should be toward yourself who sabotaged your own bright future. But at that time...everything was dark and bleak. Nothing mattered to you.

A trip upstairs lead to a simultaneous trip down memory lane. On that fatefully fucked up night.

Ran's hand on your back disappears along with the transformation of the scene before you. Your sweater dress changes into a red, glittery one, the hallway shifts into a loud bar, your face adorned with makeup, surrounded by friends and the smell of cigarettes; but the same dreadful feeling weighing you down stays the same.

-2 years ago-

You dreamed of being famous, but not this way.

The ear-splitting shatter of the glass onto the floor captures everyone's attention as you turn around in a daze. You see a girl's furrowed eyebrows and an annoyed expression etched on her as you look down on the spilt drink.

"Can you watch where you're going?"

Her anger was understandable so you had to apologize. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. I'll pay for another drink-"

"Don't even bother." She crosses her arms and inches towards you, examining your face and your flaws. A smirk appears on her lips when she notices how familiar you look, an expression that you dread as you prepare yourself for her words.

"Aren't you the one who got dumped and caused a scene last Friday? The girl who-" She suddenly gets cut off when your friend from behind walks in front. Drunk as a skunk and she still has the power of her sharp tongue to insult people. You used to have that kind of attitude too but not when your inside is hollow.

"Shut the fuck up! She apologized right? Do you want a new bottle if you don't want a new glass?" Or do you want to be labeled this week's scene stealer?"

Your drunk friend retorts with an arm around your shoulder, her middle finger up to the people who backed down from her insults and chose not to cause a further scene.

Both of you chuckle at how pathetic and elementary the happening was and she guides you back to your booth. Her manicured nails encasing the glass bottle and overflowing the little shot glass she has. The liquor drips and you dodge in shock, preventing it from sticking to your legs and dress.

You get a tissue as your friend apologizes in a slurred speech. "I'm so sorry. I can't get my head right. I need water." "It's okay-"

The slam of the bottle startles you as you look at her glaring at you. It looks like the ones you get when she's about to get you an earful, acting like your personal life coach.

"Can you please stop apologizing? You turned into a fake ass meek girl just to please that now ex boyfriend of yours...do you even see yourself?"

Do you? You looked multiple times in the mirror to check on your blemishes, to check on your body and compare it to the ones he likes, so yes you always see yourself. And you full well know that you changed your personality and actions for him, only to end up getting cheated on with the supposed opposite of his ideal type.

Good thing you've never given him your virginity. It would be such a shame that an asshole got you first.

"I just want to go back to my free self." You lean onto the velvet material as you try to erase him out of your mind. Desperately creating a clean slate for a potential guy tonight.

"Then go back. No one's stopping you."

If you could only go back in time and just stayed in your room wallowing in self-pity...this would not have happened. You can't blame that advice because it didn't say you had to be that reckless. It was just your stupid drunken self driven by lust that got you in that situation.

You go outside for a breath of fresh air because the cigars are suffocating and you see a sleek black car blending right in the night alley. It looked so expensive from the exterior and the familiar brand on it, you could only wish to have the life of whoever owns that. You approach it to look into the window and see yourself, bending down to fix your messed hair.

"You want my car that bad?" Black haired, short, dressed in sweater and pants same color as his hair, tattooed neck, bloodshot eyes, and he reeks of danger. You should've ran when you saw him but little miss addicted to bad boys felt a butterflies in her stomach. That was all you could remember from the night you first saw Mikey.

His sudden appearance beside has you startled and standing up straight in embarrassment. You consciously drag down your dress as you might have flashed him with your panties, his eyes naturally darting over your action.

"I'm sorry. I was just looking for a mirror." You utter an excuse.

"Go on. That's not my car anyway."

What? You look at him with a confused face, silently asking who's the owner if he isn't. The man sees your questioning look and ponders on answering it before taking a crunchy bite of the taiyaki he's holding. You watch him chew, closed mouth and how his lips move, before looking away when he catches your gaze.

"Company car." He answers and you nod, thinking what kind of gigantic company this man works for.

Your train of thought suddenly gets cut off when he waves the fish shaped snack in front of your face, once again shocking you from how stealthily he moved; you didn't even notice him until then.

You meet Mikey's gaze on you and the taiyaki waving in front, deciphering his questioning eyes if you want to take a bite. If only you knew him years prior, you know he doesn't like to share his snacks especially the ones he like. But he found himself wanting to share with a random stranger wearing the sluttiest dress he's ever seen. Perhaps him catching wind of your black thong reeled him in as he lets his boner do the judging.

"Ah, I'll get some thank you."

Instead of taking a pinch with your fingers, you seductively leaned in and bit the head of the fish, parting the piece in your mouth from its body. Your upwards gaze to him was not assertive but rather meek, doe eyes subtly seducing the man while you pull away and chew. That phase of reading seduction books really helped when you glance down and saw the tightening of his pants, his shifting between foot, and the tinge of pink on his cheeks.

To know you were wanted and craved made you squirm while standing, a pressure forming on your center as your body gets tense.

"You have something on your lips" Mikey points out for you, his eyes fixated on your lips. A simple word that made you drop everything for you know what comes next.

"Where?" A coy question coming from your mouth even though you know where the dirt was. You could easily feel it hanging from the corner of your lips, yet you don't bother as you want to know what this man will do.

If he does exactly what you had in mind...then you're going home with him.

"Right here" He raises his thumb to wipe the red bean off your face. The sensation of a simple touch brought electricity to your body, making it more heated up and desperate for loving warmth.

"There's still some left" His voice drawls out lazily and you feel yourself getting lost in this dreamlike moment. He's intoxicated and you are too, he's lonely and so do you.

"Can you please get it for me?" And he leans to capture your lips with an openmouthed kiss, tongues dancing around each other for arousal. He grips your chin to move your head how he wants and you place your arms around his shoulder, pushing his head to a deeper kiss. Amidst shared breaths, you could feel how soft and sweet his lips were, lightly playing with the pleasing flesh. While on Mikey's point of view, yours was bittersweet. The red bean's taste and the previous bits of alcohol entered his system as he attempts to suck more of you.

It was passionate and heated, his hand already crept up to the inside of your dress, daring to feel your ass against the texture of the lace. That sealed the deal for the both of you to go home. You sadly pull away from the lack of breath as Mikey watches how smudged your lipstick were. You looked like a whore and it brought a smile to his face.

He had lipstick stains on his face too, scattered red like he got bombarded and played with. A chuckle leaves your lips and his eyes dart over to your smiling face. The corner of your cheeks pulling up and your eyes creasing. He felt like mimicking it as he forced himself to show you how happy he was. Mikey truly felt happy and alive in that moment, all the more to keep you by his side.

"You want to go for a drive?" "Maybe later" Your bold vixen personality reared itself as you push him against the car, biting his lip for a little tease before a messy clash of mouths occur on the dimly lit street. Oh and you remember; his finger that came back underneath your dress, teasing and massaging your clothed slit as you moan agape. Providing you with a bit of foreplay before introducing you to the main course.

-1:00 am-

As he drives onto a nearby hotel, you look out the window and see the lights passing by. A buzz comes from your phone to notify you that your friend has replied.

"I'm going to check in a hotel"

"Lol same. Stay safe!"

As you turn off your phone, you look at Mikey and question yourself why you're trusting a man who you don't even know. Someone you met minutes ago is taking you to a hotel, this was what people did right? In books, in movies, in whatever you've consumed, they just went with whoever they're with and had a one night stand.

A wrong move on your behalf.

He places his calloused palm to rest on your thigh, soothing then squeezing the flesh as you feel your core getting wet by the minute. A sly finger inches closer to your inner thighs, trying to pry your legs apart with his index and thumb and yet you chose not to budge.

"Playing hard to get?"

"Let me check your strength." You provoked and Mikey laughed, a stranger's rouse riling him up as no one dared to test his strength in years. The veins on his arms became prominent along with the tension on his fingers, it seemed like a split second where your legs were closed and now they were open. A spread palm in between and it clasps closer to your panties, holding the prize in a fit of victory.

"Satisfied?"

You were very satisfied with your first time. He brought you to a luxurious five star hotel, one that you've never dreamed of checking in. You were not dumb as you observed people's gazes on you, you're not some psychic who can read their minds nor an agent who can read body language. The timid girl on his arm could only wonder why those people were looking at you. That should've tickled your suspicion yet you brushed it off in the anticipation of getting fucked.

Well, it was worth looking forward to. Mikey had plans of treating you like a whore before you told him that you're a virgin. Wide eyed and brimming with tears, you're practically begging for him to take care of you. And so with a kiss to your forehead, his demeanor changes to that of a gentle lover.

"It's okay. No need to be scared" He coaxes you into his embrace as his fingers deftly unclasp your bra. Slowly pushing you onto the bed while he fixes his positioning on top of you.

Fragments of steamy memories flood your mind as you stare into another man's eyes. You thought you would look back on that night fondly because it was so intimate…a first time of a sacred act just between the two of you. But as you stare into Ran's eyes, a bitter smile creeps up when the realization struck you.

You were used and shared. You want to leave but your heart is too attached to the people of this house. When you finally get out…now what? The sinking feeling of despair gnaws at you as you realize outside of your little home, you were lonely. Just like the first time you ran away when you saw liquid red.

Ran's lips tickle upwards to your neck, kissing your jaw and capturing your lips with his own. Relying on your muscle memory, your legs automatically wrap around his waist, your hands clinging to his strong shoulders as he grinds his oncoming hard-on directly on your clothed cunt.

A moan then escapes from the shockwaves.

"Ah! Mikey!" You thrash with shaking legs, his harsh thrusts producing obscene squelches of your cum down below. There was no strength left on your lower half or your torso, you could only follow the ripple of your body as he uses it like a toy. A medium for all the frustrations in life.

Staring into the ceiling with drool coming out of your lips and cries between intervals, Mikey finds your sweet spot and his cock experimentally knocks on it the first few times; he looks up and sees your eyes blown wide.

"Found it" He smirks and starts fucking into you while watching your troubled expression. You were so cute and so expressive, you even permitted him to cum inside for your first time.

The splash of his warmth inside made your toes curl as he grinds a few times and closes his eyes in ecstasy while you close yours in exhaustion. The toy needs her rest after all.

You hear someone saying "Wake up"

...

"Fucking bitch—wake up!"

You open your eyes to the surprise of seeing yourself crisp and clear. The familiar mirror meets your confused face on the bed, a tripod and a camera standing in front, and your scattered mind trying to register what's going to happen.

"What-" You halt. And if you were sleepy before, then your whole body jolts awake to see the pink-haired psycho over your shoulder. He laughs upon the confirmation of you being scared of him, and so he rests a hand on your head, patting it like a pet.

"Don't be scared~" He coos, his attempt at comfort just brings a shiver to your whole body. What kind of sick kink does he have today?

"So before we start…" Sanzu's voice trails off as your ears block out every word he says. Your eyes look at everyone in the room through the mirror, counting the figures until your gaze lands on someone in the corner of the room.

Leaning against the wall while watching you, he seems to have seen you through the mirror too. You don't know why your heart still beats for the man who doesn't care.

You wished he would comfort you, you wished he would take you away, you wished he would be possessive and have you all to himself. But all of those dissipates when Mikey smiles at you, despite it being an empty one. Anything he gives, you take like a loyal dog.

You love him still.

"Any message you want to give to your friends? or to your family?"

#bonten x reader #tokyo revengers hcs #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten x reader smut #mikey smut #mikey x reader smut #mikey x reader #mikey x you #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #bonten smut #bonten x you #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro smut #ran x reader smut #tokyo revengers imagines #bonten angst #tokyo revengers x reader smut

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whysageee · 26 days

Text

𓏲 ₊˚๑ ꒰𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈!꒱ ໑‧₊˚.ꪆ

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒊 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

✮𝑭𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

✮𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𓆩♡𓆪𝑫𝒐𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑺𝒖𝒃 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑫𝒐𝒎 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑺𝒖𝒃 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

𓆩♡𓆪𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕

𓆩♡𓆪𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𓆩♡𓆪𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔(𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆)

𓆩♡𓆪𝑬𝒄𝒕.

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𐙚𝑺𝒄𝒂𝒕

𐙚𝑽𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒕

𐙚𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕

𐙚𝑷𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂(𝑨 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔)

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒊 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♡𝑴𝑯𝑨 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑲𝑵𝒀(𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑹) 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑱𝑱𝑲 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑵𝒂𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒐 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒐 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑨𝑻𝑳𝑨 (𝑨𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓) 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑿𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑪𝑨𝑹𝒀 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑴𝒀 𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑨𝑶𝑻 (𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏) 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑩𝑼𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆….

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚! 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅: https://forms.gle/bDGeFTs2XEzw8yQX8

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wrixthesley · 2 years

Note

sandie pls spare a ran-and-his-dress-suit-thought ?

mine is that sometimes he doesn’t wear an undershirt beneath his dress shirt and his torso tattoo is totally visible and it’s a nice visual touch.

short circuiting, malfunctioning, sliding down the wall, crying, screaming akdbjsje

cw: suit kink(is that a thing?), uhm he uses his dress shoe, praise, blow job, bondage(?), dacryphilia

He can’t help being pushy. Can’t help how he feels when you’re greeting him at the door in the little silk sleep shorts and camisole he bought you.

He can see your nipples, can fucking feel how warm your tits are against him when you welcome him home. Fuck, you drive him crazy.

��Missed you today” you say, your fingers are pulling at his tie, the same one you fixed this morning to send him off is coming off. He thinks it’s funny how you’ve got him used to this routine.

He looks forward to the familiar padding of your feet when he comes through the door, lets you pull his tie loose. He doesn’t know how you’ve given him something to look forward to, a path that allows him to wind down after the chaos spilling all over his work life.

He’s thankful for you, kissing the top of your head while you talk about what the cat did and a new bakery that opened down the street.

Your peace is precious to him, he’d be willing to burn the world down if it meant your happiness.

He’d do anything for you.

On hard days you take what he gives you.

Even if it means being on your knees and his tie cuts into the skin of your wrists, he made sure to wear his pink one today, loves how the silk looks against your skin and how he manages to make a pretty bow to keep your hands off him.

He’s watching in awe how you whine for him, your warm breath panting against his thigh when the tip of his dress shoe presses against your clothed cunt.

“Ran” you slur, tongue heavy in your mouth because his gaze hasn’t left you once. It makes you dizzy, his hand squeezing your cheeks together forcing you to look up at him.

“Go on, get yourself off.”

You should be embarrassed by the way you’re rutting against him, you’re sure his shoe will be covered in your slick but fuck does the friction feel good.

You need this, you need him. You’ll take anything he gives you. Even when he cuts you short of your orgasm to free his cock from his dress pants, your mouth watering at how his tip drools precum.

“You want it, baby?”

He knows the answer. You kiss the tip first, licking off the pearl of precum that threatens to spill. You let your jaw relax, eyes rolling into the back of your head when Ran pulls your head down his length.

“Good girl.”

You can feel the slick along your thighs and Ran’s shoe presses against your clit again. You moan around his cock, letting him use your mouth while you slowly rock your hips back and forth against his shoe.

He brings his other leg around the back of your head, caging you in forcing his dick down your throat and watching as you sputter and gag to take him.

Your hands struggle to break free from the tie, only tightening the knot he made.

He loves this part, loves watching your eyes tear up and mascara begin to spill down your cheeks.

“Shh, if you’re good for me maybe I’ll let you cum.”

His smile is sadistic, he’s petting your head and reveling in the way your throat constricts around his cock.

“Oh baby, you’re so good. So good for me, you want it don’t you?”

Of course you do. You’ll always take what he gives you.

#ran haitani smut #ran smut #ran haitani x reader smut #ran x reader smut #bonten smut #ran haitani x reader #ran x you #ran x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #bonten x reader smut #tokyo revenger smut #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani drabble #ran haitani scenarios

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animexts · 8 months

Text

"You better die after me"

Characters: Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani and Sanzu Haruchiyo.

MASTERLIST | Open Requests!

────────────────────

Ran Haitani

"You better die after me" Ran says suddenly, watching Y/n make their lunch.

"What are you talking about silly?" Y/n says laughing.

"I know I'm kind of stupid sometimes-"

"Sometimes?" Y/n interrupts Ran, causing him to snort, and pull her onto her lap.

"I need you to know I mean it when I say I'm not going to live a life without you in it." Ran says kissing Y/n's cheek.

"Rindou wouldn't like to hear that."

"Oh come on, you know he likes you more than me." Ran says making Y/n laugh.

He watches her smile with hearts in her eyes.

"Please let me die first."

"Alright, stop saying those things Ran!

────────────────────

Rindou Haitani

"Woman!" Rindou says entering their shared room.

"What was Haitani Two?" Y/n responds without looking at her husband, still making the bed.

"You better-" He stopped as soon as he understood what she had said. "What did you call me?"

"Haitani two" Y/n says smiling innocently at husband.

"For the sake of our marriage, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Right, and why did you look so angry?"

"Oh right...You better die after me!"

"Than you -" Rindou interrupts his wife holding her face and kissing her nose.

"I couldn't bear to see you go, so obey my order, and don't die before me!" Before his wife can answer, Rindou kisses her mouth.

────────────────────

Sanzu Haruchiyo

"Where is your lady, Sanzu?" Ran asks teasing Sanzu.

Yes, he knows that the best way to tease this maniac is by talking about his lady.

"She's home, safe at home." Sanzu responds without looking at Ran.

"How are you so sure she's safe?" Rindou says, making Sanzu look at him.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Sanzu gets up, facing Rindou.

"Calm down Sanzu, they're just being idiots." Kakucho says rolling his eyes.

The Haitani brothers laugh and go back to talking normally, but Sanzu can't stop thinking about what Rindou said.

He steps away from the group and, with trembling hands, dials his number, which he has memorized.

"Come on, fuck, pick up, please." he says as he hears it call three times.

"Hi love"

Sanzu closes his eyes relieved to hear his girlfriend's voice.

"Damn it, for the good of society You better die after me."

────────────────────

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prncessrindou · 1 month

Text

you’re all i need. ♱ // repost from wakashawty

♱ CONTENT WARNING . . fem!reader, bonten timeline, smut, unprotected sex, backshots, creampie, shower sex, oral ( m receiving ), marijuana use, use of pet names.

♱ PAIRING . . ran x reader, rindou x reader and sanzu x reader ( separately )

RAN HAITANI. ♱

your pouty lips wobbled as ran’s hips slammed into your ass cheeks. his palm pressing against your spine as you arched your back so perfectly for him. he can’t help but to slow his strokes, lean down and kiss your spine. “so pretty.. fuck.” he mumbles between kisses.

your fist squeeze the sheets for dear life as his cock slowly drags against your spongy walls, your pussy clenching around him so tightly. “ran, you’re s’deep..” you whimpered into the mattress, you swear you can feel him in your throat.

suddenly ran grabs a fistful of your hair, raising you up against his tatted chest and kisses your jaw and neck while he’s giving you the deadliest slowest strokes. “mmph— ran, m’gonna cum! m’cummin!” you sobbed, falling apart completely against him.

it’s not regularly that ran gets to see you like this.. working for the largest organization in the country isn’t for the weak. he’s rarely home and when he is, you’re melting in his hands exactly like you are now. he really needed this, needed you.

“hm, yeah? that’s it..” ran coos, smashing his lips against yours like a sudden wave, “cum on what’s yours, baby.”

RINDOU HAITANI. ♱

you’re a mess, completely spent as rindou has you pinned up against the marble wall of your shared shower. “rinnn— mmh, fuck!” you moaned, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as his strong arms hold your legs up.

squelching sounds along with the water drops from the shower are heard throughout the bathroom. rindou’s fat cock slides in and out of your sloppy wet pussy as luke warm water hits both of your bodies. your still so sensitive from your previous orgasms, but he just keeps going.. “shiiit— pretty.” rindou grunts in your ear, “yer’ fuckin’ pussy was made for me!” he says as his dick twitches, spraying his warm seed inside of your walls once more.

naked and wet.. fuck, you’re so beautiful like this and it’s all for him. he’d rather come home to see you like this every night because he knows he can bury his sins in you and you’ll accept them wholeheartedly.

you’re an angel sent from above just for him.

HARUCHIYO SANZU. ♱

“haru..” you whisper, stroking his hard length with your hands and giving his blushing tip subtle licks.

sanzu inhaled the smoke of his blunt.. looking at you with half lidded eyes as he lays back on your shared bed, watching your mouth get to work. he blows the smoke through his nostrils, “pretty ass lips, shit..” he mutters, putting the blunt back up against his lips.

your lips curled up into a smile before spitting on his dick and taking him whole. your head goes up and down while you massages his balls. sanzu puts his hand above your head, guiding you. “fuck, that’s it.. you’re taking me so well, babygirl.” he praises, throwing his head back against the headboard.

you released his cock with a pop, spit falling from your mouth and onto his cock, stroking it; giving off squelching sounds. you begin teasing the slit on his tip, you know it’s sensitive so your tongue swirls around it and over it. sanzu buckled his hips up, the sensation of your warm tongue getting too much for him.

“f-fuckk, baby.. shit!” he curses as he busts all on your pretty face. you happily lick it off around your lips with a smile, “you know, i could’ve swallowed it if you would’ve been a little more patient.” you said, your lashes batting up at him as you continue to stroke his dick with your hand.

he honestly doesn’t deserve you.. you’re too good for him, but he doesn’t know what he’d do without you. you are his high.. no marijuana or pills could ever get him as high as you do.

“fuck, babygirl.. you’re just so good to me.” he says as he takes another puff of his blunt.

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myblorbojunao · 1 year

Text

Every mikey hairstyle shown in anime😍😍 HE LOOKS SO GOOD!

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tobifuyu · 9 months

Text

New hair, who dis?

Ran Haitani x f!reader

After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.

cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.

wc: 9,7k

a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.

One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.

You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.

Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.

You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.

There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.

Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?

“Ran, what the fuck?”

“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.

The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.

“I cut my hair.”

“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.

It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.

You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.

It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.

“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.

He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.

Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.

Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?

You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”

He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”

You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.

“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”

The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.

Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.

An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.

Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.

“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.

My sleepy boy, you think.

That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.

Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.

You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.

The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.

Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.

He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.

You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.

Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.

Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?

Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.

So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.

You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.

You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.

Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.

“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”

“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.

“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.

“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?

“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?

“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.

Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.

He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.

Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.

In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.

“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.

Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.

The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.

You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.

“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.

It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.

All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.

You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.

“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.

Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“

“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”

“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”

He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.

Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.

“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”

His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.

“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.

“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.

His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.

This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”

“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”

Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.

“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.

“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.

“Go at it, babygirl.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.

Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.

“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.

Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.

One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.

He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.

The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.

You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.

It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.

That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.

He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.

His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.

At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.

You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.

He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.

“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.

“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”

“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”

You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.

“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”

So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.

“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.

“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”

It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“

The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.

Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”

You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.

Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.

You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.

His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.

“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.

“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.

“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”

He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.

It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.

“I need you, Ran.”

Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.

The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.

“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”

You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.

“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.

More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.

You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.

He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.

His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.

You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.

“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.

He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.

It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.

You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.

Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.

“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.

Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.

It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.

When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.

“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.

“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.

He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.

You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”

You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.

He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.

Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.

“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.

You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.

“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”

You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.

You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.

Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.

Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.

You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.

Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.

He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.

He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.

Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.

He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.

“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”

He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”

“What is it that you want, use your words.”

“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.

Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.

You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.

“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.

Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.

But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.

It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.

You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.

The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.

“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.

His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.

He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.

You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.

He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.

Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.

Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.

“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.

His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.

He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.

He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.

“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.

You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.

Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.

“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”

He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.

But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.

You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”

You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.

Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.

Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.

“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.

“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”

A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.

It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.

His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.

Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.

As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.

After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.

“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.

“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.

“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”

Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.

When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”

The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.

Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”

You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.

“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”

The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.

“Want you to be mine, baby.”

“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.

Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.

And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.

Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.

You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.

Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.

#ran haitani #ran smut #ran haitani smut #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran x you #ran haitani x you #ran x y/n #ran haitani x y/n #ran x oc #ran imagines #ran haitani imagines #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #bonten smut #bonten #haitani rindou

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bontens-new-executive · 1 year

Text

First kiss

"Wait, really? You haven't had your first kiss yet?"

With a quick pull on your wrist, he had you sitting on his lap. His free hand immediately holding your cheek. "Let me teach you, pretty", he whispered before connecting your lips in a slow and teasing manner. Whispering instructions here and there while sometimes chuckling at you frustration.

Fair enough, he made it quite hard for you. Always pulling away when it was going well, teasingly hovering his lips over yours, barely touching to make you chase his lips. "Only because you're inexperienced doesn't mean imma make it easy for you, sweets, you gotta earn it."

But after some minutes of frustrated sighs and grunts from you, he decided to finally give in. His lips pressing to yours passionately, his hand moving from your cheek to your neck, applying slight pressure to make sure you know you're his. "That's it." He moaned against your lips, "you're doing so good, doll"

Suna rintarou, ran haitani, gojo satoru, atsumu miya, sanzu Haruchiyo, wakasa imaushi, rindou Haitani, bakugou katsuki, shuji hanma, Tsukishima kei, osamu miya, dabi, tendou Satori

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localityghost · 1 year

Note

how would the tokyo revengers cast do in no nut November

An|| People people! Have you seen the ask? Looks like I gotta get to writing! Also, everyone's aged up so do enjoy! I sort of rushed this post I'm sorry I wanted to make sure I didn't post it on December 1st

Of course Toman's up!

Manjiro Sano

Mikey thought it would be a good idea since everyone else was doing it little did he know that now that he had a significant other it was going to be hard sure you were his girlfriend back then but now heh yeah he was failing for sure

Mikey was deep inside you pressing you over the counter as hips rutted into you shit! It had been two weeks it was only November 11th! But nope Manjiro couldn't hold it in anymore "Mikey please s-slow down!" you pleaded but it fell on deaf ears as he continued pressing kisses against your neck as he licked and bit it causing you to spasm around him eyes rolling to the back of your head as you could no longer think straight from the way he was rutting into like a rabid dog or a lion in heat you were like water and he had been wandering in a desert for far too long he didn't care if you begged him to stop as well as not caring about the way your legs were shaking and threatening to give out yeah it was a rough day that week.

Ken Ryuguji

Sooo...our boy Draken or Ken-chin, our Kenny boy heh heh...he didn't last especially with you and Emma around him 24/7! How could he relax when you two are basically asking for it He and Emma have been crushing on you since they were kids and when you 3 got married it was heaven for Draken from then on. Of course he wanted to prove himself able to survive no nut November but alas he failed on the last week...

Emma just had happened to brush up on him and that was his first straw I mean come on it's Emma! But then on top of that, she fell right on top of you he stared at you both cock aching in his pants he saw how nicely you two looked together the way your breasts pressed together when you were on top of each other and that was the cake that took the frosting for Draken "Bed, now" both you and Emma were confused and boy oh boy! was it an experience. Draken had you bouncing on his cock kissing Emma as he fingered her and of course, he made sure he was giving attention to your puffy clit as well. He then broke the kiss with Emma having you both on all fours for him "Gonna fuck you two so full of my kids" and after that, you were both pregnant looks like Drakens expecting soon!

Mitsuya

GAH DAMN THIS MAN IS FINEEEEE! Mitsuya isn't one to participate in these types of activities but let's just say he did and man oh man was that his mistake

Mitsuya was making clothing as usual for you to model it's November 29th and he was making it strong but god...when you put on that dress it was over. Mitsuya was creating a new fashion line and wanted you to be his model, you were his wife after all, and the way the dress hugged you showing off your curves and clothing your thighs just right was enough to send him "Baby come here for a second? I need to do some readjustments" he said as you walked over humming innocently "So what are the readjustment fo-" you were cut off by Mitusya kissing you passionately as he worked his hands up your dress all the way to your panties "Taka-chan...what about..?" He shushed you kissing your neck as pushed the dress straps down to cup your breasts "That challenge is stupid anyways...need you now" he said licking your neck in that one sensitive spot as he rutted his hips against...ALL WHILE IN HIS WORKSPACE! It's gonna be smelling like you for a bit...

Chifuyu Matsuno

Y'all already know bro! I can definitely see Chifuyu being a switch I'm sorry I just can! Well no more like soft dom Chifuyu he tries to do No Nut November and the poor thing just misses the feel of your plush thighs around him :(

It was a week since he made that stupid bet that he knew he couldn't handle you knew how much he wanted his head to be crushed between your thick thighs and how he wanted to fondle your chest but god! Why would he make such a stupid ass bet?! He knows how you have him pussy drunk every time you offer yourself to him like come on! Chifuyu eventually couldn't do it anymore and found himself between your thighs eating you out and giving you kitten licks as you pushed him down but he kept in place "Just a little longer...just hold on f'me ok?" you nodded whimpering as he received an orgasm from you not wanting to miss a single drop and that was the part where he lost all his senses standing up straight to release his hard cock "Gonna put it in ok?"

Kazutora Hanemiya

KAZU MY BELOVED! He's definitely a thighs guy in fact he loves every part of you from head to toe! ^^

Kazutora only did it because you asked but the poor thing just can't be separated from how soft your skin is and how you give him that cute look when he fucks you raw since he loves the way you feel around him...and he only survived about 3 weeks before you accidentally fell on him one day and just happened to trigger his hard-on...in which he took you in the back and fucked you like he was on some sort of drugs "S-So tight hun...I don't think I could stay away from you for much longer~..." he said in a sweet tone as he rammed you from behind "K-Kazu-!" you try to call out but he quickly shushes you with a kiss as he bites your neck earning a whimper from you "Shhh...Baji will hear us unless..." he chuckled "That's what you want~..."

Baji Keisuke

Baji-Sannnn~! He deserved better but anyways onto my uh *cough cough* grinddddd

Baji thought No Nut November was a dumb thing but you teased him about not wanting to because he couldn't do it which he reprimanded you for saying that and so he vowed he would get through the month his famous last words "Tch...watch you'll be on your knees begging for me to fuck you!" and then in return, he only lasted 2 days...because you were wearing a virgin sweater Emma bought you and modeling it for yourself in the mirror when he walked in on you and soon found yourself pushed up against mirror with Baji's cock deep inside you "Yeah...you like that huh?" he thrusted in you again "Like being my little slut? This cunt belongs to me yeah?" he slapped your ass causing you to moan out "Y-Yes Keisuke~! All yours mmm~...promise!" you only fueled the fire as he forced you to look at your erotic face in the mirror as he made your eyes roll to the back of your head with every thrust of his cock inside you "My little slut~...heh got you going dumb on my cock~!" he said with a laugh slapping your ass again as he started thrusting more violently touching your g-spot but not intentionally as he laughed "Want my kids inside~? I'll definitely fulfill that wish~..."

Sorry, it's short hun! I wanted to get this out for you as soon as possible!

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inkykeiji · 5 months

Text

you can always take more than nothing

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: here’s my halloween piece, only half a month late! still, i hope you can enjoy it! as always, please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: alice in wonderland

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, public sex/exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, size difference, biting/marking, blood, minimal prep, rough sex, teasing, begging, dacryphilia, humiliation, a lil bit of degradation, drugs, toxic relationship

words: 8.6k

synopsis:

Those few remaining scraps of decency you’d both been clinging to have been devoured by Mikey’s growing selfishness, no longer caring about what others might see or think or say—it’s not like anyone’s dumb enough to do anything about it anyway; it’s not like anyone has enough of a death-wish to try. He’s the motherfucking Boss. And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always.

The music is loud, so loud the walls seem to be breathing with it, bleeding with it, flashes of neon pouring over the frosted mosaics of glass and marble.

A party, thinly veiled as a corporate event.

There are people everywhere, scattered across every surface, crystal glasses filled with expensive liqour and cocktail concoctions glittering in their palms. You barely know any of them.

They’re all supposed business partners, allies and associates, ‘friends’ of your Daddy. Not that it matters all that much to you; they aren’t allowed to say a word to you anyway.

Your eyes scan the expanse of the club, on the hunt for a familiar face. Takeomi is in the corner, obnoxiously blowing smoke into some of the higher end girls’ faces. He’s really taking his role of The Caterpillar earnestly.

Good. You told him it suited him.

At your request (AKA at Mikey’s demand), the top members of Bonten have dressed up as Alice in Wonderland characters, donning an impressive group costume. You’ve been taking the whole thing pretty seriously—beginning your extensive planning in August, drafting up designs and taking everyone’s precise measurements to have each outfit custom made to their exact frames—which means the rest of Bonten has been taking the whole thing pretty seriously, too.

Not that any of them mind.

What Mikey’s little angel wants, Mikey’s little angel gets. It’s standard protocol, really; you’re merely an extension of the Boss and thus must be treated as an extension of the Boss, and Mikey’s best men have no issues complying.

Sighing, you rest your chin in your palms, sombreness souring your features. An ache, dull and dense, settles in the pit of your chest. It’s a desolate sort of longing, a gentle but constant gnawing that cannot be sated by anyone or anything other than it’s creator, something that weights your lungs and heavies your heart and stalls your breath, a vital part missing.

You miss Mikey.

You miss Mikey, but you know this ‘event’ really does have some sort of business significance; that, while it’s mostly an excuse to get drunk and high on Halloween night, it also serves as the grounds for some sort of meeting or negotiation or proposition—you can never be sure which, with Bonten.

You aren’t allowed to know. You’re lucky to be here at all.

But you miss Mikey.

You shouldn’t be selfish. You know you shouldn’t be selfish; he’s already stretched so thin between so many obligations and obituaries, and you shouldn’t add to that strain. You won’t add to that strain. You’ll sit here, pretty and perfect like his precious little princess should be, and you’ll wait, patiently, until Daddy has a moment to spare you.

He always finds a moment to spare, no matter how many duties and commitments he has. He always finds a space for you in his day, even if he has to carve it out with his bare hands.

So you mustn’t be greedy. You will be good. For him, you’ll do anything, no matter how difficult.

“No frowning, miss Alice,” Sanzu chastises through a stretched grin, wide and carved into his cheeks—a smile so sharp, so sinister it puts the true Cheshire Cat to disgrace.

He swims into your vision, teeth glinting with teals and fuchsias, an intricately wrapped box in his palms. Tugging on the ribbon a little, he unboxes it to reveal a wealth of small confections, individually wrapped in colourful foils.

“Look, your favourite kitty brought you some chocolate.”

That brightens your mood a little—a sugar fiend, just like your Daddy is—and your mouth drops open expectantly, cute tongue unfurling in invitation.

Sanzu rolls his eyes but places a truffle on your tongue anyway, pressing it down on the slick muscle and forcing your lips to close around his first knuckle to suck the treat free from him, laughing at the way your face twists.

Pervert.

His nails taste like blood—not that you’ve come to expect any less—but the rusty copper is quickly eradicated by sugar, a content little hum vibrating around the melting chocolate.

“Good, huh?” Sanzu asks around his own chocolate, shuffling a gold box of expensive Italian truffles in his palm as he picks through them, confections jumping perilously with the motion, shimmering wrappers catching in the flashing neon strobes. “They’re imported.”

“Where’d you get those?” you ask through strings of caramel and cocoa, welding to your molars.

“A little Halloween treat courtesy of Mikey,” he says dutifully, jostling the box in emphasis. “And an apology, for taking longer than expected.”

Warmth blooms in your chest, swelling with your heart and stretching your ribs. The last few remnants of displeasure fade from your face, giving way to a small smile.

How very Mikey of him, to send his second in command armed with artisan chocolates and a short, sweet explanation; something he knew would make you smile, something he knew would alleviate some of your impatience, a reassurance that he misses you too, that he’ll be back soon, that he’s thinking of you.

“There’s our pretty girl,” Sanzu teases, but his own grin has softened a little, the glint in his eyes dulled to a twinkle. “No more pouting, ‘kay? Your trusty Cheshire Cat will be by your side until your Hatter returns.”

Ah. A polite way of saying that you’re stuck with him until Mikey’s finished his work, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

That takes longer than either of you expect, though, Sanzu’s plan of entertaining you by leading you, hand-in-hand, around the club to assess each Bonten member’s costume not nearly as lengthy as he had anticipated.

Because it only takes a mere twenty minutes or so to examine all of them, with you near instantaneously deciding that the Haitanis have won the make-believe costume contest you and Sanzu had been holding between yourselves.

Sanzu had agreed—everyone looks impeccable in their custom-made costumes, tailored specifically to them at your behest, but no one had any hope of eclipsing the Haitanis in their form-fitted pinstriped suits, each stitch and thread molded flawlessly to their frames, perfectly pressed collars embroidered with Dee and Dum in shimmery purple thread, powder blue bowties immaculately symmetrical around their tattooed necks.

Now you’re back at the bar, Sanzu’s shaky fingers sifting through the box of truffles as he searches for something, anything, to distract him from the way the blood in his veins is beginning to dry up, the way his capillaries are withering, brittle and thirsty, the way his skin is beginning to itch.

Because he can’t do a goddamn thing about it. Not yet, anyway.

No narcotics when he’s chaperoning you; that’s a hard rule. That’s a rule that’s been sewn into the tissues of his brain so tightly it’s interwoven with his synapses. That’s an execution rule; a one time only rule—breaking that rule will get him fucking killed.

But you’re both starting to become a little bit restless.

“Come on,” you’re begging, word dragged across your tongue in a petulant whine. “Just one more chocolate?”

“I said no,” Sanzu snaps, eyes hard. “Mikey said three. Mikey’s the Boss. Whatever Mikey says goes; Mikey’s girl, Mikey’s rules!”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, forehead scrunching with a pout.

“Yeah, and that’s why he sticks me with you,” Sanzu says, though he sounds almost proud, as if it’s an honour to babysit you, a title of high esteem. “Because I can resist your tricks.”

“My charms,” you correct.

“Whatever,” he waves a hand. “It’s all semantics. Point is, I know how to say no to you, unlike a few certain someones.”

Unimpressed ice blue eyes sweep across the venue, hovering pointedly on the faces of his colleagues—Kakucho, the Dormouse; Kokonoi, the White Rabbit; Rindou, Tweedle-Dum.

Your eyes follow his, and you smirk to yourself. Kakucho is the easiest out of those three; Kokonoi sometimes deceives you, allowing you to do as you please only to tattle to Mikey later, and Rindou always demands some sort of payment, claiming it’s only fair that you give him something he wants in return.

Turning back, you’re about to respond, something bratty and bitter simmering on your tongue, when a pair of hands and a smooth voice cuts you off.

You’d know that touch, that tone, anywhere.

“Pray, tell me, Miss Alice,” Mikey murmurs in your ear as he slinks up behind you, palms curling around your hips and pulling you back toward his chest. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“Because it can produce a few notes,” you answer dutifully, head tipping back against his shoulder to glance at him through the corner of your eye. “Though they are very flat.”

“Correct,” he responds. “My, what a smart little girl you are.”

It’s soaked in condescension, compliment drawled out through a supercilious smirk, breath wafting across your face sweltering and saccharine.

“Do I get a reward, Mister Hatter?” you ask, sweeter than sugarcane, batting eyelashes framing hopeful, dewy eyes.

A hum vibrates on his tongue, onyx gaze apathetic and appraising as it glides across your features slowly, thoroughly, pulling each of your thoughts apart and putting them back together again.

Your head rolls to the side, over his protruding collarbone, to stare at him more resolutely. And God, it’s the way you’re looking up at him, eyes glazed with dedication, with devoutness, like you want to fucking devour him.

Like you want him to devour you.

Hips pushing back, you rub your ass into his cock in inconspicuous little motions, lashes fluttering a little, back arched in a perfect curve and tits on full display.

From this angle, there’s no way he can’t see right down your dress; there’s no way he can’t see the red lace of your bra straining against supple skin as your chest rises and falls with gentle breaths, no way he doesn’t notice the very tips of your nipples, cheekily peeking out from beneath the delicate material with each swell of your breasts.

Bony fingers flex on your waist, and he huffs out a smirk.

His ebony pupils are enormous, blown wide and gaping, gnawing away at the whites of his eyes.

He’s high.

It’s evident in the milky film of artificial ecstasy lacquering his gaze, doped up and hazy, but it does nothing to dilute the potent love he has for you, melting his stare to something soft and sticky, pouring past his lashes.

He’s feeling good tonight.

“I think I know what my little girl wants,” one hand flattens against your stomach, holding you flush to his body as the other slides up your ribs to cup your breast, filling his palm with it and kneading, slow and deliberate, simply enjoying the feeling of you. “And it is very naughty of her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm,” he hums, head drooping to nose along the curve of your neck. “Really.”

His lips brush along your skin as he speaks, his voice barely more than a gentle vibration along the column of your throat, and you whimper a little, fingers curling around his wrist and pressing him closer.

“A-And what’s that?”

“Aw, can’t you guess?” he tuts his tongue. “And I thought you were smart. Must’ve been mistaken. Where’s my smart little girl gone now?”

Grip firm on your waist, his hips rut forward, hard cock prodding at you through the layers of tulle. A discontented little sound vibrates in your throat as you squirm a little—and oh, he knows what you’re whining about, greedy girl, knows that you can barely feel his cock through the thick petticoat, knows you want more—and he presses his hips further forward, grinding harder into your ass.

“Daddy—Da-Daddy, it’s—”

“What?” he shoves again, stronger this time, teeth nipping at the skin below your ear. “Hm?”

“Your cock is hard,” you nearly whine, pushing back against him in a pitiful little wiggle, desperate for more friction.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

The hand massaging your breast gives a final squeeze before his fingers find your nipple, pinching it through the material of your dress and bra, then rubbing the heel of his thumb over it in hard, rhythmic motions.

“Is your pussy wet?” he huffs the question into your ear, his hot breath procuring shivers. “I bet it is, naughty girl. Daddy wants to feel it.”

“Please, please,” your hips buck a little, punctuating your pleads, chest pressing into his touch.

“Please? Please what?”

“Touch me, Daddy, touch me, touch me.”

Slender hands slip beneath the puffy layers of lace, calloused fingertips rough as they skim up your smooth thighs, outlining the silk ruffles of the bloomers he bought you specifically for this costume.

Your hips twitch slightly, legs spreading instinctively as his fingers trail along the scrunched hem to the apex of your thighs, pressing two into the rapidly dampening material. Pensively, they caress your slit through the material, prodding your hole just a little before rubbing two slow, hard circles into your clit.

“Christ,” he breathes out, curse splintering at the end. “You’re so fucking wet baby, and I’ve barely done anything yet.”

His palm flattens against you, all four fingers dipping into your core nearly to the first knuckle and then curling, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit, and your pelvis cants reflexively, almost as if you’re attempting to draw his fingertips further in.

“How are you this wet already, huh?” he keens, voice straining beneath his own desire. “Been thinking naughty thoughts?”

“Jus’want your cock,” you slur out honestly, hips gyrating in pathetic little circles, an embarrassing attempt to follow his touch.

“Oh, yeah? That’s all it takes, eh?” he rolls your clit between his thumb and his forefinger, nonchalantly toying with it as he mulls. “Just my cock?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod blearily. “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

“Cute,” Mikey spits, the compliment sheathed in venom, “how utterly stupid just the thought of my cock makes you.”

His fingers clamp down on the swollen nub and tug, your whole body jolting with the pain, a yelp hitching in your chest.

The arm wrapped around your waist tightens in response, holding you close, holding you still as he humps away at you, sloppy and uneven.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, fingers tweaking your clit in rhythmic motions, sparks of pleasure chased by shocks of pain. “You’re so fucking easy for your Daddy, aren’t you? So quick to get soaked for him, so quick to get ready for him, such a good little slut for him, yeah?”

His voice is gravelly, letters wispy around the edges despite fact that he’s nearly shouting over music. Another rush of heat surges between your thighs, and he laughs, dark and dangerous.

Your clit throbs in his touch, the silk of your panties drenched all the way through, aiding his fingers in their slippery motions—several small, fast S gestures, followed by a few firm strokes of your slit, fingertips gliding over your folds with ease. You’re so soaked, whole cunt now outlined by the shimmery material, molding to your folds and enabling him to feel every dip, every bump, every crevice, another chuckle dripping from his lips as your little hole clenches around nothing.

“Daddy,” you whimper, thighs squeezing together tightly as you attempt to fuck his fingers. “Daddy, I—I can’t—I need—”

“Shh,” he hushes you, lips caressing the curve of your ear. “I know, baby. Daddy knows what you need.”

A palm wraps around your wrist as Mikey mutters something about going somewhere a little more private, pulling you along behind him and leading you toward those purple velvet VIP couches, empty and roped off in a darkened corner.

“What are we—” you begin as Mikey collapses heavily on the couch, knees spread wide open, hips shifting up slightly as he forces his feet even further apart, getting comfortable.

C’mere, his lips mime, voice drowning in heavy bass, his chin jutting in the general direction of his straining cock, yearning against pin-striped pants.

Strong hands curl around your hips and yank you backward, the abrupt motion punching a sound of surprise from your chest as you tumble into his lap, spine pressed tight to his sternum.

The hinges of his jaw hook over your shoulder, a crude way of keeping you from squirming as he manhandles you into straddling his thighs, hard cock pressing into your core.

“Holy fuck,” he pants out, the curse damp against your skin. “You’re so wet I can feel you leaking through my pants.”

“Daddy,” you say, and although it’s meant to be a warning, it comes out as a whine, stringy and petulant.

Because it already feels so good, and he’s already so hard, and you just can’t help but rock your hips back, slow and firm, whimpering a bit as the head of his cock glides over your clit, teasing as the slick, swollen little nub jumps beneath the dull pressure.

He laughs a little, nothing more than a deep, dark rumbling within his ribs, reverberating against your back.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” he chides lowly, though you can hear the self-satisfied smirk sewn into his voice, tinged with sadism, as he rolls his hips up twice, grinding his cock into your drenched core. “You’re so fucking needy, baby, trying to get yourself off in the middle of this crowded club.”

You are, you are, another little sound escaping your lips as you rut back against him, already beginning to speed up, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit in quick little strokes.

“It’s really precious, y’know, how pathetically eager you are for me,” he murmurs, notes of fondness negating the sting the insult should bring, words gone melty and sweet. “But you gotta stop humping Daddy for a moment, so he can get his cock out and give you what you really want.”

A disgruntled little whine sounds in your throat, motions stuttering a little as you attempt to stop moving. But it all feels so incredible, greedily unable to quell your hips completely as they rotate in messy little circles, tummy starting to ripple with each graze of his blunt head against your clit.

“Hey,” he warns, sharp and stern, a palm colliding with your bare thigh and leaving a burning handprint seared in its wake, the impact of the slap loud enough to draw a few pairs of eyes. “Don’t get bratty with me, or you won’t get anything at all, you understand?”

Your head’s nodding before the words are even finished leaving his lips—yes, Daddy, of course, Daddy, brats don’t deserve to be filled by Daddy’s cock—desperate to be good for him, to be the best for him.

Because you know he isn’t fucking around; Mikey’s threats are never empty threats, each and every word plucked from his brain with superlative care, heavy and infused with meaning.

It’s terrifying and tantilizing, how easily and instantly he can switch from one mode to the other: from playful to imposing, from Daddy to Leader, a pleasant shiver skittering up your spine, your hole clenching and pulsing as your stomach plummets, gut weighted with a tingling pressure.

It’s a bit of a task, freeing his cock and manoeuvring yourself as you try to inconspicuously sink down on it, but you both manage, your fluffy petticoat of crinoline and tulle providing a decent amount of privacy.

A hiss slips through the gaps of your gritted teeth as it begins to tear you in two, cute little hole stinging as it strains around his cock, struggling to accommodate his girth, delicate skin splitting itself open for him.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he breathes lowly, voice vibrating against your ear. “There you go, good girl.”

An airy little moan spills from your lips as he bottoms out, cockhead pressed snug to your cervix, and you melt back into him, skull knocking against his shoulder, eyes slipped shut.

“Feel better, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble out dreamily. “S’good, S’right.”

“It feels right, huh?” he chuckles a little, thumbs rubbing fond circles into your hips, his hands all the way up your skirt, slipped beneath the frills and fluff, forearms buried in your dress. “You like it when Daddy fills you up?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “Stretches me out real good, makes me feel all stuffed ‘n full.”

Whole, complete, one. Like everything feels as it’s supposed to again.

And it hurts, because it always hurts, because he’s too thick and you’re never prepped enough, never patient enough, core split open on his cock and little hole aching as it attempts to adjust to him, but it’s so fucking perfect, too. Your cunt spasms around him, hips twitching a little in desperation—like you’re trying to suck him in further, like you’re trying to bury him deeper—and he groans, fingers flexing as he holds you still, nails gorging on your flesh.

“Eager, are we?”

“S’not my fault,” you mewl, back arching a little as you attempt to push your hips back, squirming a bit in his strong grip. “Need you, Daddy.”

“Is that so?”

Grasp tightening, his hips thrust up, grinding the head of his cock into your cervix in slow, hard motions—back and forth, back and forth, inspiring a dull pang throbbing in your gut.

Gasping sharply, your hips jerk back in response, automatic and instinctual, pulling a hoarse groan from his chest.

His clutch turns to near bone crushing, a fractured little cry sticking in your throat, and he forces you to hold still for a moment, muscles in his thighs gone rigid and stiff as his hips press up further and tug you down, frozen, revelling in the way your cunt pulses around him, as if it’s whining for him.

“M-Mikey,” you echo its sentiments, his name a sulky plead on your tongue, brows knit together and lips jutted in a pout.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“You know,” you huff out, wriggling a little in his palms, feebly trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Tell me anyway,” he demands.

Scalding embarrassment pricks your cheeks and you whimper, fidgeting in his grasp again, head shaking in defiance.

“Come on,” he chides, but there are notes of amusement infusing his tone. “Daddy can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask for it.”

Sharp teeth sink into your shoulder suddenly, your half-formed response strangled by a gasp, Mikey’s jaw tensing as he burrows his teeth further into your flesh, piercing through tissues and snapping capillaries until copper explodes in his mouth.

He holds it for a moment, all thirty-two of his teeth latched in your skin, ensuring he leaves a full, detailed outline of his mouth etched into you—a signature of sorts—before his tongue flattens against the wound, dragging over it in a single wide lick and sealing it with blood-tinged saliva. A gentle exhale wafts over the bite, cool against the searing pain, and you shudder, chills erupting across your flesh.

“You’re a big girl,” he coaxes over your whimpering, the encouragement steeped in condescension. “I know you can do it. Use your big girl words and tell Daddy what you want.”

Your eyes squeeze shut against the burn of humiliation, lids crinkling at the corners, the softest hiccup catching in your throat, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

“I—I wanna ride your cock, Daddy,” you push the stubborn words from your tongue, trembling and breathy.

“Yeah?” he asks, bloodied tongue tracing along the shell of your ear. “How bad?”

“So bad,” you bleat out, striving to bounce on his cock under the firm restraint of his hands, dewdrops of annoyance clinging to your lashes, glittering in the beams of magenta and teal as you blink rapidly.

“Hm,” he muses to himself, nonchalant as he readjusts his grip, hands constringing, completely halting your pathetic little movements. “It doesn’t seem like you want it all that badly.”

“Daddy,” the word leaves your lips in a whine, scrunched and petulant through your pout, body thrashing beneath his strong grip. “Come on—”

“Are you sure you wanna be such a naughty little whore in front of all of these people?”

Your body stops its writhing, his words like a slap to the face.

It’s a bit of a shock, to hear it spoken aloud so bluntly, cut and dry and honest, and it sends a torrent of sparks fizzing through your chest to collect dense and tight in your tummy.

Shame and revulsion sets your skin aflame, the cinders in your gut flaring in response, an intoxicating combination.

“Yes—”

“Huh? What was that?” he shouts theatrically in your ear. “I couldn’t really hear you over the music.”

“Y-Yes,” you repeat, trying to steady your hiccuping voice, to be stern and resolute, even as tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

“Really?” he breathes, and he sounds astonished, he sounds appalled. “You’re so fucking sleazy, baby. I wonder what all these people would think, if they knew how truly filthy my little girl is...”

“Manjirou,” you weep out his birth name, whole face saturated in frustration.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he chuckles out the word, and it’s vicious. “Graduated to using my full name, now, have you?” he licks at the steadily oozing bite, mopping up more blood with his tongue. “Christ, you do really want it.”

“I do!” you cry out, struggling against his grasp again, hips bucking in wild, erratic motions. “I do, I do, please, let me ride your cock, please.”

“What if I made you sit, still and straight like the good little girl I know you want to be, on my hard cock for the rest of the night? Do you think you’d be able to handle it?”

You know he won’t, know he’d never be able to, because he’s just as addicted to you as you are to him, just as desperate, just as eager, just as needy; because even as he holds you motionless, he can’t quite halt the delicate jerk of his hips, rolling up into your core; because you know he wants this just as badly as you do, gets off on the depravity just as much as you do.

Even so, the mere thought of being teased like this, of being forced to hold such a degrading position, is still enough to inspire a rush of agitated tears to flood your eyes, vision gone bleary with despairing desire and rendering the club a bleary haze of glowing neons.

“No, Daddy, no, I—I just want to ride you, please, Daddy, I c-can’t—”

You’re nearly wailing now, head thrown back dramatically as your neck twists into an uncomfortable knot, anguished as you try to bury your face in his throat, looking for solace. Your chest stutters as you stammer out half-finished pleads, gone garbled with spit, and Mikey smiles.

You’re starting to cause a scene.

It’s exactly what he wanted.

“Okay, baby, okay, okay,” he’s pacifying as he feels hot tears soak into his neck, a choked sob catching painfully in your chest. “Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it all better.”

And finally, finally his grasp loosens, stiff fingers gone lax, massaging lopsided circles into the rapidly developing bruises left in the shape of their prints.

“Go ahead, angel,” he urges, nuzzling into the junction of your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to the congealing bite. “Ride Daddy’s cock.”

Then he’s slumping back, settling into the couch cushions and spreading his thighs a little wider, pressing the soles of his boots into the waxed floor for stability and leverage.

His hands stay on your waist, a gentle guidance, but he allows you to set the pace—a rare occurrence—patient as your hips work up a steady rhythm of quick, shallow gyrations, each swivel dragging his cock against your favourite spot.

And God, you’re so cute when you use his cock to make yourself feel good. It’s a shame that he can’t see your face in this position, can’t see the way your lashes flutter and frame the rolling whites of your eyes or the way your features scrunch so delicately; a shame he can’t hear your gorgeous noises, all your sweet little gasps and pitiful little whines consumed by the blaring music.

But he can see how your back is bowing, spine forced into a near perfect arc by your building pleasure, bending just a hint more with each brush of his cock; he can feel your palms clutching his knees, nails digging little crescents into his shins and using them for support as your movements accelerate, as you fuck yourself harder, faster, better.

And he lets you have your fun for a little, lays back all languid and lazy and watches through lidded eyes as you play with yourself and use his cock like it’s your favourite toy—because, well, it is—but eventually it just isn’t enough and you need Daddy’s help.

Just like he knew it wouldn’t be. Just like you always do.

Not that he minds one bit.

Yes, it isn’t enough, because it never is, because you can never manage anything more than teasing yourself when left entirely to your own devices, spritzing kerosene on the dull smouldering in the pit of your stomach as the head of his cock brushes up against that engorged spot inside of you, not nearly hard enough or fast enough to have you anywhere close to creaming on him, merely enough to have your clit throbbing, swollen and neglected.

He knows you’re beginning to get restless when your hips turn sloppy, tempo starting to falter as your motions stutter, and then you’re looking over your shoulder at him with a beseeching pout, glazed eyes begging him to do something!

So he does.

He’s straightening up in a split second, hands around your waist tightening as he yanks you back toward his chest, chin hooking over your clavicle again and grinding the sharp bone into your skin.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, mocking and mean. “Can’t even get herself off without her Daddy’s help.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” you wail over the roar of EDM, head shaking in accentuation. “Need you, need you to do it for me.”

“Of course you do, angel,” he says, as if it’s obvious, as if it’s common knowledge. “But that’s okay—Daddy will make it feel good.”

That’s the only warning you’re given before his hips are ramming up, rapid and rough and downright ruthless, the abrupt motion slamming a high-pitched yelp from your throat, so pure and genuine and full of lust that it rises above the music, breaks through the heavy bass beat, gathering a handful of glances from a few nearby party-goers.

So much for being inconspicuous.

You should’ve known that that just isn’t Mikey’s style.

They lose interest just as quickly as they gained it, though, going back to their drinks and their drugs, unconcerned. What the Boss does at his own club is none of their business, even if it is on display for the whole venue to see.

Still, it’s enough for Mikey.

“Everyone can see you, you know,” voracious black eyes scan the balcony space. “Everyone can see you being such a good little whore for your Daddy.”

The thought of being watched, of being caught, inspires a whole flock of butterflies to flit around in your tummy, another surge of heat gushing between your thighs, and Mikey laughs. Oh, he felt that.

Because he’s right; if anyone dared to look a little closer, a little longer, cared to paid a smidge of more attention to the two of you, hidden on one of the velvet couches wedged in the corner of the VIP section with your hips rocking and Mikey’s hands buried in the lace and tulle of your skirt, they’d know exactly what the two of you are doing.

But it doesn’t matter; you don’t care. Neither does he. Why should either of you?

“Do you—Do you think they like it?” you question, and Christ, it’s so precious, that pathetic hope ringing high and clear in your voice. “Do you think they like watching me bounce on their Boss’s cock?”

“Fuck,” the curse fragments in his throat, sharp and pitchy, and he coughs on the shards. “I know they do, sweetheart.”

“Do you think they’re g-gonna go home and touch themselves to the thought of me—of us?”

“Aw,” Mikey coos out in a chuckle, breathless and condescending. “It’s cute that you think they aren’t already jerking off to you on a regular basis.”

Of course they are, you silly little stupid thing; how could they not be? With all the sweet, short little dresses he buys you to prance and twirl around in—the ones with the sweetheart necklines that dip just a hint too low, teasing the swell of your breasts with each of your gentle inhales; the ones with the rippling hems that end just a touch too high, swishing and swaying and flashing with each of your movements, riding up and fanning out to gift them with teasing little glimpses of the lace and satin underneath.

“You think I don’t know what my—ah, Christ—what my men think of you? How my men think of you?” He tongues a little at the bite, using his front teeth to scrape off a few half-formed scabs, blood rushing to pool in their place. “You think I don’t see the way they look at you?”

A whine stammers in your throat, your back arching a little more as your cunt quivers around his cock, that drove of butterflies sending your stomach swooping, the organ tensing, tying itself into thick knots pulled tight and taut with each plunge of his cock.

Mikey laughs again, the sound nothing more than a deep, dense vibration rumbling within his ribs, seeping into your back and sending tingles up your spine.

“Would you like to see the way they look at you?”

“H-Huh?”

Oh, how adorably fucked out you already are, mind gone dumb and numb to everything but him, but his voice and his touch and his steadily driving cock; oh, how adorably easy it is to make you this fucking idiotic.

“Look over there,” he presses his cheek into yours, forcing your head to turn and follow his gaze.

Across the club, Rindou sits with an elbow resting on the edge of the bar, a glass dangling from his fingertips. His eyes are cavernous, carnivorous, a smirk smearing across his face as your stare meets his, heavy lids framing a leering look.

Using a shoulder, he nudges his brother’s stomach, jutting his chin toward you and his Boss in indication when Ran looks down in question, redirecting his attention.

Now they’re both watching you, with doped up violet eyes and identical sleazy smiles, toothless and worming.

It makes you want to scrub and scratch at your skin, their gazes painting you in a thick coat of grime, body soiled by their lust and left feeling dirty, feeling gross, a strong shiver crawling across your flesh.

Your head jerks reflexively, desperate to hide from their lechery, skull knocking against Mikey’s hard enough to send thorns of pain searing through your temple.

A yelp cracks in your throat, and Mikey snorts, seemingly unfazed.

“Aw,” Mikey tuts in false admonishment. “Don’t get shy now. Look at them. Look at them while you ride my cock.”

“M-Mikey—” your eyes shut tightly, a pitiful attempt to escape their invasive eyes, head shaking in little judders.

“C’mon,” he goads, forcing you to face their stare. “You want them all to see, right? How good my little girl is? How pretty my little girl is?”

Peeking through your lashes, you squint at the Haitanis, features teetering on the verge of a wince, as if you’re expecting them to physically strike you.

They’re still looking at you, wide and unblinking, speaking out of the side of their mouths in laughs and murmurs to one another.

Dressed in matching pin-striped suits and thick suspenders, Rindou has discarded his jacket, shirtsleeves rolled haphazardly up his forearms to his elbows, first few buttons of his shirt popped undone, revealing a defined collarbone.

Predictably, Ran is still the perfect picture of poise and elegance, not a single hair out of place, suit jacket square on his shoulders and flawlessly tailored to his body, each stitch outlining his edges.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee respectively, and just as treacherous.

Whatever it is they’re saying to each other, they’re clearly enjoying themselves, amusement playing in glassy irises as Ran rests a hand around Rindou’s neck, slim fingers pressing into plush muscle. His younger brother instantly relaxes into his touch, mollifying back against his stomach and hooking an arm around his thigh, hugging it to his ribs.

And it’s the way they’re looking at you, as if they’re peeling the clothes from your body and the skin from your bones and peering into the depths of your soul to dance with your demons and devour your secrets; as if they’re singeing your expression into their minds, the sight of your features saturated in perturbation and pleasure branded into the tissues of their brains, carved into the walls of their skulls, ensuring they’ll never forget.

Everything feels overexposed as they pry you apart bit by bit, heady mix of hedonism and humiliation hazing over your brain.

Mikey’s hips slow to a drag, thighs tensing and soles of his boots skidding across marble as he expertly angles his hips and presses up, rubbing the head of his cock over your g-spot in slow, controlled motions—back and forth, back and forth, over and over and over again.

And the moan that claws at your throat is almost obnoxious, is definitely embarrassing, which means Mikey needs to fuck at least three more from your chest, grunting a little with the effort as his cockhead jabs against that plush spot, hard and precise.

A whine that sounds suspiciously like his title, tangled in spit and weighted with shame, spills from your lips, and you nestle your face against his own even as your hips jolt, desperate for comfort, desperate for cover.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he nuzzles your damp cheek. “I know you do. I can feel it.”

It’s true, he can—you’re sure he can, with the way your straining little hole keeps pulsing around his length, another stream of heat cascading down his shaft, viscous and wet and so, so much, to pool in the folds of his balls, to stain the waistband of his pants and the velvet of the couch.

But you know he likes it just as much as you do.

Because you’re both so fucking naughty, so fucking nasty, but the depravity just works to heighten it all, makes it that much better, amplifying every touch and brush and tease and fondle and making it all feel so fucking good, even as Mikey’s pace eases into something unhurried, his thrusts turned languid but powerful.

So you join in, you rise to his challenge, a sick little game the two of you play, a sick little game you force others to participate in—because you’re fucking untouchable.

“Do you think their cocks are hard, Daddy?” you ask, the question dripping with syrup as you roll your hips backwards, slow and purposeful, returning the Haitanis’ smouldering stare through fanned lashes, unblinking and tenacious.

“Ah, f-fuck,” Mikey’s cock jolts, rhythm stammering for a moment before he regains his composure. “Yeah, baby, I bet they’re wishing they were me right now.”

You bet they are, too, mouths stopped moving and gazes gleaming with want, lips parted with uneven exhales pushed from their heaving chests, entirely enchanted by your movements.

It’s the most affected and authentic you’ve ever seen them before, and it sends a thrill of power shooting through your body, blood left fizzing in its wake.

One of them reaches into their pocket, groping around blindly for their phone, not daring to spare a second of their attention away from you, and Mikey snarls, nose scrunched in disgust and lip curled in a sneer, baring gritted teeth.

Because that’s too much, that’s crossing a line, and Mikey swiftly redirects your face, effectively hiding your expression from the Haitanis’ hungry eyes.

Mikey’s always liked to show off. Mikey’s never liked to share.

He swaps shoulders quickly, the defined hinges of his jaw clasped firmly over your collarbone, and smushes his face flush to yours again, skin clammy with sweat.

“And look over there,” he steers your gaze toward the other side of the club, where Kokonoi sits with a smattering of men surrounding a tall cocktail table, littered with crystal glasses and white lines.

The men around the table are laughing about something, sloshing liquor and cutting powder into thick, fat stripes, but Kokonoi isn’t paying attention to any of it.

No. Kokonoi is looking at you.

His eyes snap away when they meet your own, head whipping forward with such speed and such force it’s a marvel he doesn’t instantly give himself whiplash. A deep laugh rumbles in Mikey’s throat in response, something dark, something decadent.

“He’s gonna go home and touch himself to you, too,” he says. “He might not even make it before he goes home; might end up jerking his cock in a bathroom stall or the front seat of his car.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, look at him,” Mikey snorts. “He’s so hard he’s about to burst outta his pants.”

Following the line of Kokonoi’s body, your gaze travels downward, to the straining lump in his white pants. His hips shift a little uncomfortably as his thighs tense, hands curled into fists on his knees as he steadily trains his stare forward at the wall opposite of him, throat bobbing with a thick swallow.

Mikey’s right—Koko’s about to burst.

The thought of Koko rushing to his car to collapse in the driver’s seat, head tipped back against the headrest and hand shoved down his pants as his palm rubs frantically at his hard cock, or hastening to the washroom to lock himself in a stall, forehead pressed tightly to the rickety door and panting out stuttered, half-stifled whimpers hotly against his upper lip as he hurriedly relieves the problem you’ve created, is almost too much to bear, stomach clenching in time with the throbbing of your cunt, a torrid pressure building and burning in your gut.

The sudden acceleration of Mikey’s thrusts snaps you out of that tangle of thoughts, effectively drawing every ounce of your attention back to him.

A mewl pries past your lips, sharp and high and cracking at the end, whole spine arching as Mikey resumes his assault on your favourite spot, cockhead driving hard and fast against plush flesh.

“They can look all they want, but you’re mine.” His fingers tighten, his grasp rigid and unbreakable, the words nothing more than a snarl spit in your ear, wet and harsh. “I won’t fuckin’ share.”

“Never, never, never,” you babble in time with the bouncing on his lap, head nodding in sloppy motions with each repetition of the word.

“Never,” he growls, teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sloppily, excess spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he breaks the skin for the second time tonight and sucks hard, drawing blood from the string of tiny wounds.

It has another cry escaping your throat, whole face crinkling in a sordid mixture of pleasure and pain, head instinctually thrown back against your Daddy, automatically giving him more room to work. Drops of watered down blood drool down your back and Mikey takes a moment to admire them, mesmerised by the way they shimmer in the strobing lights of the club, before he licks at them with the tip of his tongue, leaving crude strokes of fresh spit in their wake.

He’s the motherfucking Boss.

And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always.

He’s really fucking you now, vicious and vigorous, your entire body juddering in his lap as his hips piston up, cockhead pounding against that sensitive mound of tissue buried deep within you.

Each thrust shoves another shattered sound from your tongue, splintered moans of his name and his title pouring past your lips in a jagged stream.

The knot your stomach has twisted itself into strains under the building pressure, growing heavier and heavier with each jackhammer into you, stretched taut and stiff and ready to snap.

It’s all so much, the ogling eyes and the ramming of his cock and the tightening in your belly, every muscle in your body coiled and aching for the ecstasy that comes with release. Your breath mangles with the mewls shoved from your lips with every slam up, sticking to your throat and you cough, wheezing past the splinters. It’s all too much, and—!

“M’gonna, m’gonna cum, Daddy!” you gasp, tears dotting the corners of your eyes, sparkling in spidery lashes.

“Yeah, baby?” he breathes, voice dropping to a ragged rasp. “You gonna cream all over Daddy’s cock? Huh? Make a mess on my cock surrounded by all of Daddy’s closest and most esteemed colleagues?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you nearly sob out, palms curling over his wrists, nails clawing at the delicate skin, desperate for an anchor.

“My dirty fucking girl,” he hisses out, sharp breath stinging your cheek. “Such a good—Ah—good little slut for me, aren’t you?”

You can no longer respond, rendered stupid from the ardor, potent pleasure corroding your brain and gnawing through your synapses. It’s downright intoxicating, it’s fucking insatiable, it’s simultaneously immense and insufficient, way too much yet not nearly enough, because you need more, you need more, unintelligible pleads shattering on your tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, baby, gush all over Daddy, make a pretty mess on his lap for him. Show everyone in this Goddamn club how gorgeous you look cumming for me.”

And so you do, ever your Daddy’s best girl, body eager to obey its owner as your cunt convulses around him, copious amounts of slick cascading down his shaft to drench his thighs, sticky and sharp and so fucking sick as he continues to bounce you in his lap.

The spasming of your cute little hole draws the sweetest whine from the back of his throat, panted out against the curve of your ear, and another bout of warmth rushes to the apex of your thighs, earning you a shuddered little curse, the exhale sweltering against your sweaty skin.

You sound so pretty right before you cum, Daddy.

Three more pumps of his hips and he’s following, thrusts stuttering as he fucks up messily into you, cock throbbing almost violently and stuffing you to the brim with thick, hot cum. Strong hands hold you firmly in place, cockhead pressed flush to your cervix as he spills himself into you, as he forces you to take every fucking ounce of what he’s giving you.

And you love it, you love it, you love it, you’re telling him, sentiments pouring from your mouth in a jumbled stream, singular and continuous until your lungs run out of air, voice cutting off with a squeak.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Mikey’s murmuring into your skin in response, lips leaving smears of sugary saliva just below your earlobe.

He allows you to sit on him for a moment, chest heaving against your back with ragged breaths, sweaty forehead pressed tightly to your shoulder. Tilting your head, your rest your cheek on the back of his skull, eyes slipping shut as your own heart begins to calm, cunt still pulsating irregularly around his shaft, almost as if it’s attempting to squeeze a few more drops out of him, his cock acting as a crude plug, keeping most of his cum buried inside of you.

Finally, his head lifts, pressing a tender kiss to the blood-encrusted bite glittering on your shoulder.

“Go get cleaned up in the washroom,” he mutters gently, pressing another string of kisses along your jaw. “Don’t wipe away any of Daddy’s cum; let it soak into your panties real nice and good, let them get really wet, and then snap a few pictures and send them to me. Can you do that for me, angel?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you slur out, nodding in loose, liquid movements.

“Good,” he pats your thigh twice. “Now, go.”

A small noise of affirmation sounds in your throat, head still nodding as Mikey helps you stand between his spread thighs, hands on your waist keeping you upright while you wobble on unsteady legs.

And the noise that you make as his cum and your slick surges out of you—something caught somewhere between a mewl and a whine, turned on and disappointed simultaneously—is the cutest thing he’s ever heard, a muted coo slipping from his own lips as your hands wrap around his, using them to further stable yourself.

He holds you for a moment or two longer, making sure you’re sturdy and your knees won’t suddenly give out, before giving you one final squeeze and releasing you, smirking a little as he watches you teeter away on rickety feet.

Initially, his plan was to have you capture a few naughty photos for him—pretty little things to stash away in his phone for later use, during the nights he’s forced to spend away from you, sitting in expensive cars or laying in lush hotel beds—and force you to wear the gluey, cum-drenched undies for the remainder of the party.

But then his phone is buzzing, and he’s unlocking it to find your cunt perfectly outlined by thin silk as it sticks to your folds, little clit and hole contoured and accentuated by the slick, shining fabric, soiled by a large, irregular patch of wetness, and oh, there’s no way he’ll be able to wait until you arrive home to fuck you again.

No, he needs to fuck you now, a sudden burst of adrenaline buzzing through his veins, little sparks and minuscule explosions that have him up and moving in under a second, cock already beginning to fill with life again.

Sheer, potent power permeates the atmosphere around him, trembling off his body in sharp bolts; dense, heavy, cracking with electricity.

The way the crowd instantly parts for him is awe-inspiring, their gleaming eyes full of terror and worship, hastily tripping over their own toes and ankles to move from his path as he strides toward the washroom, desperate to not be stung by his brilliance, desperate to get as close to the currents as possible without being scathed.

You’re just exiting the restroom by the time he reaches you, breath punched from your lungs as he backs you into a tiled corner, trapped between the cold wall and his scorching form, his hands splayed wide on either side of your shoulders.

“We gotta go,” he’s nearly panting out as he shoves his forehead against yours, eyes closed and noses nudging, straining cock grinding unceremoniously into your hip. “We gotta go, now.”

And, well, Daddy always gets what Daddy wants.

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