Using The Safeword With Toji

using the safeword with toji

tags. rough dom → soft dom toji, fem coded reader, lots of fluff, domesticity, hurt/comfort, protectiveness, body worship, passionate toji, hardcore fucking → soft safe sex, reassurance, cuddling, intimate aftercare.

notes. ib this audio 🎧 (nsfw, headphones required) we need to start seeing soft toji some more 🤧😩

you didn’t mean any harm. all you were doing was sending some flirty texts and pictures to your husband while he was away at work. you missed him so much and thought about him all day, all needy for his attention. but when he finally came home, his reaction was not what you were expecting at all…

“the fuck were you thinking? you know my boss almost saw your pictures, right? and if i had to get up from my desk, that fucker could’ve seen what you do to me. you know how humiliating that could’ve been for me?”

the way toji slightly raised his voice at you sent a shiver down your spine. you could feel the outer edges of your motionless body tensing up with fear and this painful amount of culpability. not even over petty arguments in the past had this man so angry until now. you could feel yourself choking and aching with guilt, your nose flaring immensely it was almost hard to breathe. as if you were going to cry. but if you did cry, it would make you look like a victim. toji could’ve gotten fired and it all could’ve been because of you. you should’ve thought twice or at least resist those temptations before sending…

“i— i’m so sorry, toji,” you lamented. “i didn’t mean to humiliate you at work like that. i was just…”

“you were just what, hm?” his voice lowered to an ominous tone when he stepped closer to you. “trying to get a rise out of me when i’m working? distracting me like some desperate slut wanting my attention?”

you didn’t respond at all. instead you faltered your gaze down at the bedroom floor, ashamed to look into his eyes. after a long silence with the uncomfortable tension still lingering in the air, toji inched closer and held your face, craning your neck up to see the long face you were giving him.

“you expected me to come home all worked up for you so i could take you on right here. ain’t that what you wanted this whole time from me?”

you still didn’t reply with anything and toji sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “you almost got me in trouble today, sweetheart. i take my job seriously and you know that. but you still wanted to tease me at work. that’s just fuckin’ unforgivable of you to embarrass me like that.”

“but… that’s not what i was trying to do,” consoled, placing your hand above his and slanting your head into his palm.

“aww. you think you’re so fuckin’ cute innocently sending those pics and thinkin’ there won’t be some consequences. i’ll make you fucking regret that.”

your heart raced erratically from the baritone in toji’s voice. although you secretly loved him speaking this way in your ear, it would be better if he was dirty talking. but instead he was furious and a little unhinged that it scared you shitless.

“strip for me then get on the fuckin’ bed. face down. ass up.”

you didn’t dare disobey since you didn’t want to frustrate him more. after slipping off your clothes and climbing on top of the bed in the desired position, you watch as he unbottons off his dress shirt and positions himself behind you to eat your pussy while slapping your ass so harshly, emitting whines and screams out of you. toji kept sucking and devouring your aching cunt like a greedy man with restless hunger. you can hear him humming in amusement while doing so. although you were in need of this the whole day, the man goes insane whenever he has the chance to eat your pussy. with all that frustration and anger pent up, your thighs kept shuddering from the immense pleasure you were getting off of. gripping and squeezing your ass, slapping your cheeks ‘till they burn, and ruining you to a shattering, creamy orgasm all over his mouth.

but just when you thought everything was fine after you came, toji was still frustrated. greedy, even. “where do you think you’re going? i didn’t fuckin’ say i was done with you. stay with your ass in the air for me like a good girl.”

your sweet arousal from before now became terse since you were suddenly frightened at toji’s ultimatum. although you didn’t deny it felt like ecstasy with him sliding his fat cock inside you just as always, him immediately fucking you rough like how a hound takes a bitch made you tear up. he was still furious, grunting and subtly growling while roughly smacking his hips on your ass. the way he’s pounding himself inside you had you biting onto the pillow and rolling your eyes back until that gut feeling in your stomach hit you. it felt good but at the same time it didn’t…

“fuck. please, toji! i— i can’t take it!” you whined out loud, contorting your face on the pillow.

“what was that?” toji huffed out. “you can’t take it? aw, baby. you can take more than this.”

he continued pounding inside you that your head started feeling cloudy. more tears welled in your eyes and stained the pillowcases along with your drool that he noticed, hefting a chuckle.

“see? you like takin’ my fat cock the way you like it. your pussy was made for it. got you crying and screaming from how good i make you feel.”

another distressed whine you gave that you started to not feel the pleasurable sensation anymore. instead, you lingered on the overwhelming fear and anticipation taking over. how fucking terrified you were of toji, a much bigger and stronger man, breaking you this way because of how angry you made him today. slamming himself into you as a punishment for distracting him at work. he even took his work tie and wrapped it around your head to blindfold you, embraced by nothing except the dark. a frightening void that made you physically shiver. at this point, you felt insufferable.

“toji, it’s— it’s scary when i— i can’t see you…”

toji grunted, slowing his pace down so he wouldn’t finish too quickly. “aww. you’re scared because you can’t see my face? you think it’s scary that i’m like some wild fuckin’ demon slamming my cock inside you? well it’s supposed to be scary, you fuckin’ bitch.”

all of a sudden your body fell numb, left with only tears and miserable sobs that toji took as sobs of pleasure. and this all happened because of you and your neediness. you knew you weren’t doing anything wrong, but at the same time you should’ve thought twice before disturbing toji while working. there was so much guilt weighing down on you it left you helpless.

“toji, i’m so sorry… please— please stop…”

the man slowed down again, this time releasing the hard pressure of his hand pinning your head down and leaning forward to mutter in your ear. “you’re sorry, huh? aw, sorry ain’t getting you nowhere right now. i’m not gonna fuckin’ stop ‘till i make sure you learn your damn lesson.”

you tried so hard mentally sheltering your shivering your heart. you can feel the tie, the pillowcase, and your cheeks stained in watery blots of your helpless tears. it felt as if you were stranded alone and taunted by unnecessary, insecure thoughts deteriorating your wellbeing. you tried so hard keeping yourself together to pleasure your husband in an angry state you’ve never seen before, begging forgiveness and sympathizing with him, but you were reduced to numbness. it felt as if the world around you was blurred including the sex. you suddenly resorted to something you never in a million years would ever do; the safeword.

“ramen,” you weakly uttered, collapsing your whole body and curling up like a ball while sobbing. toji immediately stopped after he processed what you just said, noticing your distress his heart entirely ached seeing you like this.

“oh, fuck. hey, hey, hey— it’s alright, baby. it’s okay,” he murmured fondly, rushing over to hover above you and check if you were hurt. he swiftly removes the tie and gently holds your face, grazing his thumb on your cheeks. your eyes were still closed and your face was contorted from your internal agony.

“i’m sorry,” you whimpered again, followed by toji shushing you.

“no, it’s okay. it’s okay,” he quickly reassured, softly kissing your face and caressing you. “it’s me that should be saying sorry, baby. i didn’t realize…”

you slowly opened your eyes at him, your vision blurred from the tears still welling. “i didn’t mean to…”

“no, no, no. i’m glad you used the safeword. i would never, never want to hurt you. i care a lot about you and i want you to feel safe… you mean so much to me.”

toji presses soft kisses over your face and you couldn’t stop crying and sniffling. “my poor baby,” he consoled sweetly, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “got too intense for you, huh? it’s okay, love. you’re gonna be okay with me.”

“i thought you were mad at me…”

“no, baby… i’m not mad at you. i never was. i got a little carried away, that’s all.”

toji kisses you a couple times more on your face, then on your lips. you find yourself smiling weakly and feeling some kind of warmth in your heart seeing this side of toji once again. after kissing a couple more times for reassurance and comfort, you watch as toji lays right next to you, pulling the covers over you and bringing you closer to lay on his chest. you felt a sudden wash of relief after the tension had finally died down.

“…i’m sorry if i was being too mean back there,” toji mutters while caressing your skin. “i never had a problem with you sending photos to me while i’m working. it’s not your fault, i promise. i was just frustrated.”

you sniffled. “what got you frustrated?”

“my boss. he got mad that i was on my phone. really, i was just staring at your cute ass all over my screen.”

you lightly chuckled. “you actually liked the pics?”

“oh, baby. i loved them all,” toji beamed, kissing the top of your head. “it was unexpected of you, but that’s what turned me the fuck on more… i couldn’t wait to discipline you at home, but i didn’t mean for it to get that bad.”

after hearing his words of reassurance, you started tearing up again, which he immediately noticed. “don’t cry, baby. i love you so much. you’re perfect.”

for awhile you laid on his chest, taking in his addicting cologne as he has you in his arms. you love the way he holds you like this especially after sex. you feel much safer and protected from any negative thoughts and embraced his warmth. you felt like falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. hearing him also mumble words of affirmation and never taking his hands off to caress you. he was always this gentle with you it made your heart throb. he wants to make sure you feel safe again and you love him for that. and cuddling like this always ends with a nap and starts with something much more intimate…

the next few hours, toji woke up to the feeling of your warmth coursing through his body it intensified. your ass pressed against his dick it grew hard again for you. waking up and kissing him from behind felt like heaven on earth. it was the very moment the rush consumes you and energy pulls light out of everything around. such love is full of excitement and desire, released to fill each other with happiness. you loved the passion flowing and every expression of toji’s love for you. you’re enamored, you’re downing in every crazy feeling this man makes you feel ‘till you go fervent. this was love-making, this was what you’ve been craving the entire night…

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © . do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works outside tumblr.

James Joint

Pairings ୨୧: underground Streetfighter/gang member! Draken x chubby!ring girl

Encapsulation ୨୧: Draken only has you in the back of his mind while fighting, so why don’t you give him a reward( win or lose)

Warnings ୨୧: smut, voyeurism, filming with and without consent, Olympus position( standing fuck), missionary position, oral fixated reader, the word daddy is used twice, oral( f & m receiving), breeding, cumming inside of mouth, grower Draken, cervix fucking, fingers in mouth, food play( lollipop), Violence displayed, praise and degradation, exhibition at the beginning of the make out section, shin is alive( I will always have him alive, sorry not sorry), everyone else is alive and with their timeskips respectively, ooc Toman ofc, Baji is alive and well just won’t participate in such activities like that.

Word Count ୨୧: 9.6k

18+ Hotties Allowed

Link to Ao3( if you want to read here)

This is for my Anti collab

The sunset was shining through the glass window hovering in front of your bed. The curtains were moving back and forth, the whisper of the wind flowing. When you took a deep breath your nostrils were filled with the smell of summer and you enjoyed it.

The bed covers slipped off your shoulders as you yawned. It was the start of the day. You had work today and honestly you were excited to go. It’s Toman vs. everyone night. The night could end in a hassle. It could maybe end positively or negatively.

You honestly were excited because of the little outfits you get to wear. The more skimpy the better. Your were a vixen who knew how to play dumb when convience is rising in depth.

Keep reading

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫.

⠀𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘻𝘦𝘯'𝘪𝘯. 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗻!𝗻𝗮𝗼𝘆𝗮𝘇𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08━━ 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗼3.

⠀𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳. 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.♡ 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙡𝙪𝙨 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔. 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝘿𝙉𝙄.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢; 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀! 𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺.

The night seemed never ending as you and Naoya remained awake, discussing your boundaries and expectations for each other. Usually, around this time, Naoya would be asleep, getting his "beauty rest." However, he is more than willing to stay up for your sake. You allowed him to accompany you to dinner and gave him the best sex of his life. Pillow talking with you was nothing he couldn't do, even if that meant you were yapping his ear out for the last hour or so. 

You informed him about wanting your own space, and being your "fiancé" wouldn't make him entitled to your time. There was a certain way you lived your life, and you wanted to keep it that way, regardless of getting married. Naoya had a very "loud" lifestyle, and you didn't want that to affect yours. Yeah, you did go out almost every weekend, but you weren't as nearly well-known as him. Naoya's prominence didn't bother you as much because your best friend was just as, if not more, famous than him. The same best friend he was being catty with the other day. 

Although you wouldn't mind seeing Satoru and Naoya roast each other, if the two of you were to be serious, he would need to understand that Satoru is your best friend, and that's not going to change. The last thing you wanted was to be put in a position where you had to choose between the two, say if hypothetically speaking, animosity escalated. But, for now, you wouldn't worry much about it because it just seemed like cat and dog beef. 

And lastly, honesty. That was the main thing you wanted from him. You've read most of the articles, seeing what social media said about Naoya. He gets around, which is fine. He's a grown man who happened to be "single," so he's allowed to live as he pleases. Sex is how one interprets. If he sees it as something he did for fun, then who were you to judge? As long as he was clean and getting tested regularly, you didn't care. Though, if your feelings become evident, you would hope he had the decency not to continue with those "flings." If not, you wouldn't be able to continue with this agreement. 

"You're not falling asleep on me, are you?" 

He hummed. "No. My eyes are just closed. I'm taking in everything you're saying." 

"Am I scaring you away?" 

"Haha, of course not." 

"Dammit. I was hoping to find a way out this arrangement," you teased.  

"Sorry, pretty. I can assure you that you're not going anywhere." 

"Why do I feel like that's a threat?" 

"It's not. It's a promise. Also, 'til death do us part. Remember?" 

"We haven't walked down the aisle yet."  

"I'm aware, but we will." 

"Speaking of, are you planning on inviting your family?" 

"Hm, perhaps not my father and uncle. However, I do have an older cousin. I would say I look up to him. He has a son as well." 

"Oh? That's good. I would love to meet them someday. Whenever you feel like it's ready." 

"I think that would be nice." 

"…Hey—can I ask you a question?" 

"Hm?" 

"What happened between you and your family?" 

He deeply sighs. "Although I would love to talk down on my father and uncle, I don't believe now is the time to discuss that." 

"You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." 

"No need to apologize. I intend on telling you." 

"Okay…" 

"I have a request for you." 

"Hm?" 

"Will you move in with me?" 

You pressed against his chest to give him a bewildered look. "Move in? I just talked about wanting my own space, and you're already asking me to move in with you, blondie?" 

"I have four bedrooms with two only being used. You can take the upstairs room. We don't have to sleep in the same bed. However, I do believe it's best for us to live together. You don't want us getting married, then realizing you can't live with me, do you?" 

"Hm, good point." 

"Plus, I know you'd rather live elsewhere than with your parents. You informed me they meddle into your personal life quite often." 

"Well, yeah, but I don't pay bills there." 

He chuckled, kissing you on your forehead. "I don't know if you're aware, but I'm filthy rich. Even so, I would never allow you to pay bills. I believe you're my woman now. So your living expenses will be taken care of by me. I'll have my accountant add your name to my accounts." 

You raised your brow. "Your woman? Haha, time to add territorial on the list as well." 

"I never said I wasn't," he smirked. "How's my proposition?" 

"Ugh. It seems like you keep winning me over. Fine. I'll move in, but don't make me regret this." 

"You won't." 

"I'm serious—Don't hurt me." 

"I won't, [Y/N]. I'm certain of this." 

"Okay—I'm going to sleep now," you said, shuffling out of bed to go to the upstairs room. Though, when you tried to, Naoya grabbed your arm. "What's wrong?" 

"Where are you going?" 

"To my room?" 

"Do you not want to sleep with me?" 

You smirked. "Is Mr. Zen'in catching feelings for me?" 

"N-No. It's just you're already here. Might as well?" 

"Haha, might as well." You returned under the covers, placing your leg over his hips, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. He happily clasped you into his embrace. His chest was firm but pleasantly comfortable. Maybe this couldn't be so bad? 

"Another round?" 

"Ha, if you can last longer than five minutes." 

His cheeks flushed. "Well, who's fault do you suppose that is?" 

"Whatever. Let's go to sleep. We have the rest of our lives to have sex. I think you'll manage." 

"Oh? You plan to be with me for the rest of your life?" He teased. 

You rolled your eyes. "Good night, blondie." 

"Good night, soon-to-be-wife." 

-- 

You eventually returned to your parent's house to pack your belongings, preparing for your move-in with Naoya. You felt your anxiety climb higher with every item you placed in a box. This probably has to be the most bizarre shit you have ever done. You're moving in with a man, practically a stranger, and you're set to marry in six months. Yeah. No worries. This is completely normal. You were all about taking risks, but even so, this was over the top for you. 

Can't knock it 'til you try it, right? 

Trying it out would finally put your parent's minds at ease. As soon as you walked through the door, you announced you were getting married. It helped you skip the lecture, and lord knows you did not want to hear your mother's mouth. You were convinced that she was the one that persuaded your father into agreeing with this because she was more adamant than he was. It brought her joy once you told her you decided to proceed with the engagement. She even stopped preparing for dinner to make phone calls to find the best wedding planner. Welp. Time to buckle up for the next six months. 

You didn't realize how much shit you had while living with your parents. It felt as if you were moving out of a one-bedroom apartment. Luckily for you, Naoya hired movers to retrieve your items and safely deliver them to his condo, which you were thankful for. It gave you enough time to prepare to meet with your older sister, Kassandra, for lunch. It's been a while since you last saw her. Maybe two months? Between her profession as a lawyer, mothering a two-year-old, and being married, you could understand how difficult it was to get a hold of her. 

Nevertheless, you were excited to see her, choosing to meet at your favorite brunch spot. 

As you were waiting for Kassandra, she sent you a text saying she'd be ten minutes behind due to traffic on her way to drop off your niece at your brother's Obi house. You said in response that it was okay and to take her time. She would get the same meal, so you went ahead to order for the both of you for the time being. 

Now, you loved your sister. She was like a role model to you, but she definitely took after your mother when lecturing. If you didn't hear it from your mother, Kassandra would ensure that you would listen to it from her. Like the rest of your siblings, she wanted the best for you. You were the only girls amongst your siblings, so the relationship you shared was different. Your sister was the second oldest. Thirty-three, to be exact. Thus, she experienced a lot in her twenties and didn't want you to make the same mistakes. 

Speaking of… 

"Hey, [Y/N]! I'm sorry for being late." 

You stood up to hug her. "Kas! No, it's okay. Ah, I miss you, sis." 

"I miss you too, girl. I know I kept rescheduling on you. Work's been kicking my ass."  

"You done left me in the dust, Miss booked and busy," you teased. 

"Haha, it's not even like that." 

"Yeah, I know. I went ahead and ordered for us. That okay?" 

"Oh my gosh, yes. I'm starving." 

"So, tell me. How's life been treating you?" 

"It's been well but hectic, as usual. Nothing new," she answered. “Hiromi and I are planning on taking a vacation soon." 

"Oh, that's great. Where to? Do you need me to watch baby Aleesha? I don't mind. I miss my niece." 

"She misses you, too. She's like, "where's Auntie [Y/N]?" I always tell her you're out getting drunk somewhere." 

You scoffed. "Kassandra." 

"Haha, no, I'm joking. But we're thinking about Aruba. We're actually taking Aleesha with us this time. I want her to see more parts of the world. Plus, I think she'll enjoy making sandcastles at the beach." 

"Awe, yes. That'll be so adorable. Make sure you send me photos," you said. "And what about you and Hiromi?" 

"We're great. Better than ever. Even though we've been married for six years, it feels like yesterday. He asked about you, too. He wants you to come over for dinner soon." 

"I'm glad that you're happy, sis. I remember it was just yesterday we used to FaceTime, and you would tell me how you hated working together. Now, look. Y'all lovey and dovey and shit." 

She giggled. "Yeah—yeah, you're right. Hopefully, I can say the same for you. So what have you been up to? You know, with the arranged marriage?" 

You sighed. "Girl. Lemme tell you." 

Your entrées eventually came, so throughout brunch, you informed your sister about the wonderful Naoya Zen'in. You told her that he wasn't as bad as everyone thought. The date was actually good, and if you said otherwise, you'd just be lying to yourself. Even if he was undressing you with his eyes, he still gave you his undivided attention as you talked. The responses he gave you weren't monotonous either. To you, he was worth giving a chance, but your sister thought you were trying to see the good in him. 

Kassandra didn't know him personally, but she knew of him. Your sister was one of three top lawyers in the country, the other two being Nanami Kento and her husband, Higuruma Hiromi. Someone as famous as Naoya was certainly passed around when he needed a lawyer to handle his scandals. Fortunately, though, all three passed up his cases due to them not wanting to deal with the arrogant personality they had heard so much about. 

She wasn't necessarily opposed to the arranged marriage with Naoya, but she was skeptical about it. Kassandra gave credit where it was due regarding his profession, but he was extremely good at keeping his bachelor life active. Word got around that he slept with a couple of employees at his father's company. He didn't treat women well either. However, they didn't care how they were treated because, to them, he was Naoya Zen'in. Just him giving them the time of day was enough. 

Of course, that worried you a bit. Your sister has been through some fucked up relationships in her past. It took a while for a man like her husband to come her way, and she knew you also didn't have the best of luck with relationships. That one relationship you had when you were twenty-two really hurt you. Your ex just left without a word, not hearing from him since. Although Kassandra wants you to be happy, she can't help but think you have poor taste in men. 

"Kas, you do know this is an arranged marriage, right? I didn't pick him out. Mom did." 

"And I'll talk to her about that. But you did decide to give him another chance. Last thing I want is some random woman coming up to you to have that "I'm coming to you as a woman," bullshit," she remarked.  

"He seems too blunt to be a liar, so if he had some fling going on, I'm sure he would tell me." 

"Does he know about your fling?" 

"W-What fling?" 

"With Nanami Kento." 

"Have you and Satoru been gossiping on the phone again?"  

"Haha, I'll take that as a yes." 

"Take it as a no. We only had sex once, and it was like three months ago. We flirt, but it's nothing more than that, and I'm planning on keeping it that way." 

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," she mocked. 

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, nothing. Please, can we not talk about Kento?"  

"Kento? Ha, okay." 

"I thought you were supposed to be the older sister." 

"I am, I am. I'm just messing around. Back to Naoya. When y'all get comfortable, I want to meet him. Make sure to bring him over for dinner." 

"Oh, gosh. So I have my lawyer sister and lawyer brother-in-law interrogate him?" 

"You got it." 

"Ugh. I love Hiromi, but I know how he is." 

"Hey, he doesn't play when it comes to his sister-in-law," she smirked while stuffing a waffle in her mouth.  

"Fine," you groaned. "Anyways, you're coming with us to find a wedding dress, right?" 

"Duh, I wouldn't miss it for the world." 

"Thanks, Kassandra. Make sure you bring Alesha, too. It'll be like a girls' day for us. Mom, grandma, and Auntie Sheila will be there." 

"Sounds good to me." 

-- 

It was nice catching up with your sister. You wished it was longer, but you knew she had to return to her busy life. Luckily, you would see her for dinner and dress shopping in a few weeks. After brunch, Naoya sent his personal driver to pick you up to escort you back to your new home. He informed you that all your belongings had been delivered to his condo, so there was no reason for you to return to your parent's house. 

As you were in the backseat of the car, your mind began to wander to the words your sister spoke. That one "relationship" she was referring to when you were younger. Yes. It hurt you, not as much, but it did cause you to be avoidant. You told the guy you loved him, and he left the next day. You were dating for nine months. He didn't even give you the respect to explaining why. You refuse to refer to it as a relationship because it was so long ago. 

You had to move on as if it never happened. 

You made it to your new apartment building. The driver parked at the entrance, exiting the vehicle to aid you out of the car. The sounds of your expensive heels treading the granite porcelain floors echoed the lobby. You gave the receptionist a smile, but the way she greeted you threw you off. 

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Zen'in. Mr. Zen'in wanted me to give you this keycard. It's an access key to your apartment and the amenities located on the premises." 

Mrs. who? 

"Uhm—thank you. I appreciate it," you uttered, continuing to proceed to the elevator. You couldn't help but think Naoya told the receptionist to address you as such. Stepping into your new home, you thought, "Yeah, this will be a long six months." As you walked in, you were immediately met with Naoya, standing shirtless in the kitchen while making tea. 

"Well, hello there, doll. Don't you look gorgeous." 

"Don't you mean, Mrs. Zen'in?" you mocked. 

"Ah, yes. I see the receptionist has followed my request. I'll be sure to thank her."  

"You wasted no time, huh?" 

He walked up to you, pressing his chest onto yours while ghosting his lips over your ear. "Of course not. Since this arrangement is happening, I need the world to know that you're my woman." 

"Hm, is that so? How're all your other women gonna take that?" 

"Haha, I don't believe I have any other women. It's just you. Why would I need to go elsewhere after the wonderful time we shared a few nights ago—Mrs. Zen'in." 

You smirked. "You're getting better at using your words, blondie." 

"May I kiss you?" 

"You may." 

He titled your chin up with his index finger to examine your face. There was something about those pretty full two-toned lips he couldn't get enough of. The first kiss you shared, he allowed you to take control, but this time, it was his turn. He sensually grazed his tongue along your lips before swiping the muscle into your mouth. Your tongues immediately connected, groaning from how delectable you tasted. The kiss was short and sweet. However, it was enough to wake up his needy friend. 

"I can definitely get used to this," he cooed. "Perhaps we should head to my bedroom or yours? Either works for me." 

You giggled. "Perhaps not. I said you can kiss, not fuck me. It's time for you to get to know me, fiancé." 

He pulled you over to the couch, grabbing your legs to place on his lap as your back rested against the armchair. "Okay, fiancée—Enlighten me." 

tags --  @dejwrites@captaindsina @getosubaru@tojissword@theehcneypot@nova-siims@gardenof-venus@unsatisfiedanddisappointed@pyschopotatomeme @caribbeanwifey19 

---

Business as Usual

Based of this. Ceo!Kiyoomi x Reader

cw: fluff. smut. breeding. oral sex (f!receiving). reader is an aspiring actress. reader is a foreigner but it isn’t specified from where. ceo!kiyoomi’s most recent business venture is building and opening a museum. probably for tax reasons lmao. misogyny (not by kiyoomi). Kiyoomi’s implied to have issues with his father. men talking business 😫. joke talk of killing.

wc: 3.5k

Ahh, something sweet would be nice…

Kiyoomi’s already squeezing grooves into the back of your thighs before you can formally acknowledge him. “I have a case of chuppets in the freezer you can go at.”

Your gasp is muffled by the floor, half turned from where your bottom half is lazily propped up on the edge of the bed. “You do?”

“You like the strawberry kind, right?” You nod as his fingers creep toward the crotch of your panties. “They’re all yours.”

He can feel the area carpet vibrate from where your groan seeps in appreciatively. “You’re a god, Omi!”

The squeak you let out is pitched as he lands a hard smack on one of your cheeks.

“I gotta meet a couple of investors for lunch so I’m leaving one of my cards for you to order whatever you want from home.” Kiyoomi pulls you apart until your lips part from under your underwear, glistening for him like they should. “But I’ll be back before it gets too late.”

You sway your hips as he pulls your panties to the side, already rubbing tentative circles. “You’re still pretty wet from earlier,” And you can’t help but whine as he pushes two of his fingers inside. “How long do you think you can stay in this position?”

Your eyes nearly cross when he crooks his fingers. “Ah, as long as you need me to.”

His suit pants hiss against the bed sheets as he climbs in behind you, hands still firmly gripping onto your ass cheeks as he positions himself on the bed.

“I got twenty minutes before I need to be walking out the door.” Kiyoomi’s breath is hot against your bare cunt. “So, I’ll try to make this fast-“

The lewd squelching of his tongue parting you from the back would be enough to make you shiver if not for the way he laves you up. Scouring your hole with his hot tongue and groaning at the taste of you, pressing forward to dig himself deeper.

“F…Fffuck! Omi…!”

He’s insatiable as he digs you out with his tongue, lewd as he guides your hips up to tongue at your clit. The depravity at which he slurps you up is so unabashed that you’re already tensing up for an orgasm, and reaching back when he props you up with his hands; zeroing in on your clit to get you to cum in his mouth.

You must’ve already been too riled up from his treatment earlier this morning, it doesn’t take long till you’re nearly sobbing against the floor. Calling for him as he guides you into an orgasm.

“Fuck! I’m-… m’ cumming, Omi!” You pant. “m’cumming! m’cumming!”

The way he grunts into you has another shock wave zipping through the bend in your spine. “Mhm..”

You’re reaching back to push him away when the feeling starts to become overstimulating, but he’s already up on his knees again. Already pulled out of his pants and hungrily lining himself up with your clenching hole.

Kiyoomi doesn’t give you any time to prepare, he’s shoving himself in between breaths and making you choke on your tongue.

He hisses through his teeth. “Oh fuck.” He braces his hands on your sides and starts his pace. “….Oh my god. Fuck.”

Your fingers dig thin miscolorings into the carpet as his thrust knocks the wind out of your lungs. Whining out when he dumps most of his weight on your back and starts grinding in as deep as he’ll go.

He’s in your stomach. “Mhf… angel..” He presses his lips into your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good for me, baby.”

God, the sounds you’re making under him has his eyes rolling back in his head, let alone how you’ve already started milking him for all he’s worth. He could never get sick of this perfect little pussy. His perfect little pussy. So hot and tight and made just for him. He doesn’t even know how he’s gotten this far without it. Especially when he knows how to press all those perfect little buttons on the inside to make you squeal for him.

Kiyoomi supports himself on his arms again to tweak his angle, balls clenching when you start to whine out so prettily. “Kiiiiyomi!”

You reach back so suddenly to push against his button up that he has to pin your arms down to keep you from running away from it. “….s’okay baby you can take it.” He pounds in a few particularly forceful thrusts that turn your whines into hiccuping sobs. “Fuck. Look at you such a…. Good girl for me. Good fucking girl.”

He has to hold himself back from cumming too quickly when you start to clench up. “Omi! Omi! Omi!” You’re shrill. “s’good, Omi! ….m’cumming, Omi! ….I love you, Omi!”

“Oh fuck.. Fucking shiiit!”

You’re already milking him empty when you start to cum. Hiccuping at the way you clench around his hot seed as his thrusts deepen and he fucks you like he’s trying to get it to take. Even reaches into your panties to rub coaxing circles into your sensitive clit just to prolong your orgasm. Grinding himself in until he's certain he’s painted your insides with his spend, and even then he still keeps at it.

He’s still rocking into you when your sobs turn into overstimulated mewls, hot tears making puddles into the carpet.

Kiyoomi lazes a few hot kisses into your inner neck as he softly collides his head with yours. “Mh, I love you too, angel.” He breathes. “So much.”

“You mean it, Omi?” He’s the luckiest man alive.

He finally lets himself fall limp as he peppers a few chaste kisses over your ears. “More than anything.”

He’s never letting you go.

•••••••

There’s a less than usual air of ease around him when he greets Yukko and his associate Kanon.

So much so that the former of the pair lets out a relieved breath as he shakes hands with the young tycoon - and sees he doesn’t revile at the extended contact.

“Sakusa-san,” Yukko bows. “You look better than new.”

Sakusa bows back manneredly. “Appreciated, Yukko-san.”

—-

Sakusa folds his napkin over his lap as they wait for the drinks.

“We’re avid supporters of freedom of choice, the two of us.” Yukko fixes himself in his seat. “It’s a human right.”

Kanon nods. “And your speech on autonomy and liberation at the Kenshin’s banquet really stood out to us. It’s so reassuring to see you setting a standard for this newer generation and putting yourself out there as someone who stands with the people.” He presses. “Very few young men with your upbringing can say that they’re brave enough to do the same-“

“Educated enough, even.” Yukko finishes.

Sakusa pulls his seat closer to his chair. “You don’t have to praise me for something like that. It should be a given.” He hums cooly. As if the speech wasn’t written by his foreigner girlfriend the night before, beat into his head and recited in his ear even as he said it. Not that he doesn’t agree with the message though. “We’re the few people fortunate enough to have a voice when it comes to these things - we should exercise it whenever we get the chance.”

“You’re exactly right!” Yukko waves his finger at him. “There are so very few people like us - like you - who have a seat at the table. And so little of the seats go to someone who means any good with it.”

“Which is why we wanna invest in The International Institution of Innovation,” Kanon adds. “And why we would like to suggest an exhibit to accompany our investment,”

Sakusa nods as they continue. “Japan’s history as - a lot of the world’s history - is ballasted and rewritten with elitist biases in mind. So many little people who’ve done big things, cultural things, buried by mediocrity or the praises of people who lived their entire lives being praised. Worse, having the things they spent their entire lives dedicated to, miscredited to some rich guy who didn’t lift a finger.”

“Our people have worked with a few of the families of these people. There’s a-“ Yukko taps a few keys into his laptop before turning it in Sakusa’s direction. “A few small museums of our own we’ve built in Portugal, Brazil, we have one in an American city you’ve most likely heard of as Las Vegas.”

He reaches over to quietly slide through the pictures. And Kanon huffs a bit in disbelief. - Whoever said this guy was a pain to work with obviously must’ve bumped into the wrong guy. “They’ve garnered a lot of attention in the respective areas. A lot of what they call “Left wing movements” in the United States cite it a lot when referring to landmarks in the state.” Yukko says.

And landmarks they are. If this is what they call small then he must work in a shoebox?

“You haven’t considered opening one up in Japan until now?” Sakusa furrows.

“You know the climate in the world right now.” Kanon sighs. “With the rise of crime, certain political tensions,” There’s a familiar pattern of vibrations that ring off in his pocket, he reaches for it instinctively. “We didn't wanna risk building one in the current political climate and having it destroyed by opening.”

Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “So building an exhibit in my museum is more cost effective.” And he’s not afraid to look as unimpressed as he is. “You know, on the off chance that my museum gets destroyed in this current political climate.”

Well, it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford it. “Well, we’re more than willing to do our part on the expenses if something like that were to occur.” We’ll pay what we lose and dip. “And our investment excludes what we’ll pay to build the exhibition.”

“You’re paying to have your names on a plaque.”

Yukko chuckles somewhat. “In short terms, yes.”

Sakusa fishes his phone out of his pocket as their server approaches. “In long terms?”

Kanon slides him the check.

Yup. Sakusa grazes his thumb against that familiar strip of press. Those are some pretty long terms.

“Are we ready to order?”

Sakusa checks his messages as the two men speak before him.

Angel: i hope ur having a good lunch!! i got u a sooprise <3

Kiyoomi: It’s alright. I wish I was home with you more than anything.

Kiyoomi: A sooprise? Now I’m excited.

Angel: i wish you were here too :( i can’t wait till ur back so i can give you a kiss on the forehead

Angel: i hope u like it!! i know u haven’t had it in a while

Kiyoomi: I haven’t had it in a while? What’s something I haven’t had in a while?

Kiyoomi: Oh! Are we talking about the last time you sat on my face?

Angel: we are not, my love. but good guess

My love. He smiles.

“What about you, Sakusa-san?”

Sakusa glances at the server before looking off for a moment, answering curtly. “Okaki, please.”

He nods. “Alright! And anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

He leaves with a bow.

Sakusa inhales deeply as he sits his phone on the table. Picking up the check and holding it before glancing at the two sitting before him. “You two are very generous.”

Yukko raises an eyebrow. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d like to add your exhibit to my museum.”

The two men both let out a collective sigh of relief. Now that the richest twenty-six year old in all of Asia has agreed to have their names engraved next to his on a project like this. - Even if it did cost them an arm and a leg. You know, from the stories they’ve heard, they were expecting to leave with their tails between their legs after offering to impede on a project orchestrated by the most “Pragmatic Rich Kid in the country.” But he’s… surprisingly personable. Even without mention of the sheer intimidation he exudes.

He’s certainly nothing like his father.

“That’s amazing to hear, Sakusa-san. We’re honored.” Kanon sighs.

Yukko nods. “And trust, you will be involved in every part of the construction process. We want to be as transparent as possible when installing this exhibit.”

“Do you have any blueprints drawn up?”

Yukko hums excitedly as he pulls his laptop toward him again, tapping loudly as he searches for the file. “We do!”

Sakusa patiently waits as he fishes through his laptop, glancing at the server as he comes back with their food.

His phone buzzes across the table.

Angel: You better be eating more than Okaki!

He visibly blushes.

Kanon furrows at the expression of the young billionaire in front of him as his associate busies himself with his laptop, following his eyes toward his phone.

Disregarding the text from his girlfriend?! He gasps at the picture on his lock screen.

“Is that _____?” Kanon asks. “Oh god she’s so talented!”

Sakusa nods a little abashedly as he reaches for his phone. “Are you a fan?”

“My daughters love her. Oh well, my sons do too but not in the way my daughters do - If you know what I mean.” He laughs as Sakusa’s back straightens. He knows his sons, knows they’re about his age if not a little older. Knows he might have to have a talk with them one day too.

“We saw her just recently at the Blue Ribbon Awards. Can you believe she won?” Yeah, after watching you work yourself to the bone just to come back with so little to show for it. “I for sure thought Tomomi Minoru would’ve had it.”

I’m sure you haven't heard that a million times.

“But who wouldn’t take it a little easy on a woman like that?”

Or that.

It’s nearly painful how much Sakusa’s trying to keep himself from outwardly scowling. Especially when Kanon starts to open his mouth again, familiar hearts in eyes most men seem to adopt when they’re drooling over the woman he’s in love with. “I’ve gotta be what - twice her age maybe. But we’re all men here? The woman’s a doll. Talk about lucky work. Especially for a foreigner.”

Oh yep, he’s scowling. “I wonder what she looks like in person.” Yukko asks absently. “You think she’s as pretty as she is on T.V. or do you think it’s the make-up they usually cake on there…”

“She’s breathtaking.” Sakusa says flatly.

Kanon tilts his head as Yukko glances over. “You’re kidding? You’ve seen her in person?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I mean,” Yukko sits his laptop back on the table as he reaches for his drink, wincing as he sips. “Sakusa-san’s Sakusa-san. He’s most definitely got the funds.”

“Ohhh. Did you book her?” Kanon chuckles a little slimily. And the connotations of that are clear. So much so that Yukko rolls his eyes when he nudges him. “She’s just old enough for someone your age, right? Still young but not too young.”

Sakusa inhales.

“No. I don’t have to book her.” He admits tightly. “Since we sleep in the same bed.”

The two men freeze in place.

Kanon opens his mouth for a long silent moment until he’s pushing out his breath in little clips of his voice. “O-Oh… You two are-“ Sakusa nods. “Oh! Oh my god! I’m… I’m so sorry-“

“I hear it all the time.”

“Yeah but it’s still not good that I said it!” Kanon glances at a frantic Yukko.

“We didn’t mean to come off so disrespectfully!” Yukko flushes.

Sakusa shakes his head. “The blueprints.”

“W-What?”

“Show me the blueprints.” He gestures to the laptop.

Yukko clumsily turns it in his direction.

•••••

He’s barely through the door when you’ve already found your place in his arms. And he melts over you like butter, you let yourself be wholly suffocated by him.

You’re warm as you hum into his chest. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, angel.”

“How was lunch with your investors?”

Kiyoomi exhales as you stand on your toes to help him out of his suit jacket, conditioned draft in the air scented by that new conditioner he likes seep into his nose and turn his brain into mush. “It was… lunch with my investors.”

He bends himself nearly in half to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. “They wanna build an exhibit in my museum ‘cause they don’t wanna risk building their own and having some terrorist take it down.”

Your tone is so mirrored to his from earlier that it evokes a chuckle. “So they’ll risk yours?”

“Mhm.”

You mumble something sour into his shoulder. Lucky him he’s well versed enough in your native tongue to understand the phrase “Assholes.”

Kiyoomi kisses hot spots behind your ear. “They’re fans by the way.” He grimaces a little sourly into your neck. “Big fans.”

“Hm? I came up?”

He hums. “Kanon saw your picture on my lockscreen and proceeded to shove his foot in his mouth.” Kiyoomi breathes in a long whiff of you before blowing out temperedly. “Was under the impression that you did bookings.”

You chuff airly as you rub up and down the expanse of his arms consolingly. It doesn't really phase you to be slobbered over by men anymore, hasn’t really since your debut back as a fresh faced eighteen year old. But Omi’s still really new and unkind to the rubbernecking that includes being associated with a woman like you, let alone to love you.

“Bookings, huh?” You snicker as he nods his head silently. “I mean… to his credit I have put on a show for you once or twice.”

He scoffs before pressing one last firm kiss into the crook of your neck and standing up to his height again, pinching your cheek as he starts for the rest of the penthouse. “Yeah, but those are for my eyes only. - And they’ll stay that way.”

Kiyoomi sets his things on the marble of the lounge room table with a sigh. He’s been working nearly every day since the construction of his museum finally came into fruition and he couldn’t feel any less drained from it. Decent contractors have become harder and harder to find in this new age of impermanence and variability, and everybody who’s anybody seems to have their own two cents about his choice of structure or how they could be a part of it somehow. If he were a less honorable man - or a more unsavory man much like one he knows so particularly, he would’ve hired any three star contractor who could draw a decent circle, put all his focus into charming investors, and underpaid his workers just to save a few extra pennies. But he isn’t that. And a businessman like him prefers to be as close to the business as possible; wants to see his efforts turn out the way they’re supposed to.

He pouts a little to himself. But he also wants to spend time with his baby too.

“I’m gonna be beating them off with a stick for the rest of my life, aren’t I?” He exhales. “Is that the price I pay for loving a beautiful woman?”

You press a light kiss into his bicep as you glide for the direction of the kitchen. “Like you didn’t make the cover of Vanity Japan’s Handsome and Wealthy this spring.” You poke. “I’ll have to start burning incense before I visit you at work just so I don’t catch the evil eye from any of your female employees.”

He chuckles a little tiredly as he trails behind. “You’ll be fine in any case. Not like I didn’t start growing Aak the minute we made it official.”

“Very funny.”

“I know right-“ He sniffs.

His mouth immediately starts to water.

“Did you…?” Kiyoomi glances at the plates laid out on the kitchen counter. “Cook?”

You smile brightly. “Sooprise!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t know how to respond.

It smells… heavenly. Like freshly cut ingredients and even spices, pervading the air so warmly that his skin prickles before settling comfortably under his button up and he’s nearly inclined to openly salivate at just the smell of it.

You fish a spoon out of a pot near the stove, scooping the contents of it carefully into a bowl. “I know how long it’s been since you’ve had a home cooked meal and you’ve seemed so stressed lately.” You lean into him when you feel his chest press against your back, reaching up to caress his jaw as his arms fasten themselves tightly around your waist. “So I bought a few groceries instead of takeout and made something from home!”

You can’t help but grin when he starts to dig his nose into the crook of your neck again. “I hope you like the surprise.”

“If you ever leave me I’ll kill us both.”

You guffaw wholeheartedly.

reblog for one trillion dollars 💵 🤑💰💸

---

It’s Excellent as always <3

BACK TO US — h. shuji

𖨆♡𖨆 hanma shuji x fem!reader, chifuyu x fem!reader

╰┈➤ thrown into an arranged marriage with toman’s second man, you slowly come to find that not even your lost memories will stop him from getting what he wants. and what he wants is not you.

cw. HEAVY ANGST, illnesses, past mentions of child abuse towards the reader, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, explicit smut, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, adultery, heartbreak, mentions of death, murder by strangulation, MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

╳  playlist                                      ╳ masterlist

#6: you love me but you’re hollow (part 2)

Despite everything that had happened in a span of a few hours, the human heart is truly an amazing thing.

It’s resilience was second to a rubber band, twisting and flexible. But, like a band, once it broke, nothing could ever fix it again.

Your husband had left a string of missed calls since the news broke of your father’s state.

It was Chifuyu who returned, mistaking your reddened eyes for grief towards a man who did not care if you lived or died. Who was a father in just his name. 

The dark-haired man held you close to his side in a stiff hug, murmuring, “Shuji-san is caught in between tasks. He’s making arrangements to return home soon.”

How much could a heart take before it permanently fell into pieces?

Home. Did that even exist now that you knew the whole truth? 

You turned your listless eyes to him, nodding. “Of course.”

No words were exchanged between you and Chifuyu for the rest of the ride to the hideout where your father would be treated for his sudden illness.

Is this really happening to me? 

In what world could life be so cruel to you that you had to endure horrible news after horrible news? This is insane. Your phone rang again, and you darted your gaze to the screen.

The word husband flashed across the screen a few times. You remained frozen in your seat. 

The screen went dark and Chifuyu cleared his throat. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Perhaps it was in the manner in which he posed that innocent question that made the tears bloom in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling slightly. “I believe this news must have come as a shock to you.”

Chifuyu did not know how wrong he was. 

But, of course, he didn’t. How would he know that you were undoubtedly reeling from the double whammy of having your heart broken by your husband’s infidelity? That it overwhelmed the fear lacerating across your soul from your father’s wellbeing? 

No one could blame you for closing your eyes for a second, beyond dizzy from the sudden whiplash of emotions. Anger, betrayal, fear, heartbreak. Everything hit you all at once with no room for an escape. You were forced to stare down the terrifying eyes of your emotions, to contend with the harsh reality of your memories returning, your worst fears coming to light, and waking up into this nightmare that seemed to have no end.

Why me? Your mind rang out in cadences of self-loathing. What did I do to deserve this?

The baby in your belly, faultless and pure, was the one you leaned upon to give you strength to propel forward. You swiped at your eyes and assumed the stony mask which had served you well for many, many years in a household filled with nothing but conflict and terror.

“Let us focus on my father’s wellbeing and not on other things that do not deserve attention.”

From the corner of your eye, Chifuyu’s lips pulled down into a frown. Your friend reached out to you, grazing your shoulder, and in this minute silence, you were glad you weren’t alone. Heavens knows what would’ve transpired if you were left to your own devices. The harm you would put yourself in. Your palm turned into a fist above your belly. The horrors you would’ve done out of pain to a poor soul that would not deserve it. 

Briefly, you did ruminate on it—what it would feel like to have uncapped the bottle of bleach sitting innocently on your shelf and gulped down its contents. Threw yourself down the stairs and let your bones break. Stabbed your own heart with the knife Shuji loved cutting apples for you, placing the plate of fruit of your lap with a soft smile and a whisper for you to eat better.

The ghost of the blade lodged somewhere between your ribs, just below your heart. You expelled a shaky sob. Chifuyu didn’t have to ask twice—his arms were already around you, holding you fast to his chest, letting your tears seep into his dress shirt. From somewhere in your purse, your phone continued ringing, unanswered. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Chifuyu murmured into your hair. “Everything will be fine.”

How you wished his words were true. It was not enough that you had to flay your memories open every single time now that they were back. Nothing you thought, felt or reasoned would be enough to mitigate the immense injustice you were faced with. That was committed onto you. 

What did I do to deserve this?

Your head spun, and you were faint with nerves. Chifuyu held you close to him, a pillar of warmth and support, the crook of his neck an oasis where you hid your tear-stained face. Thank you, was your fervent prayer to the universe. Thank you for putting a friend here for me.

Without Chifuyu’s hand on your shoulder, you were sure you could not get out of the car. His touch on your back as he steered you down the winding halls of this quiet mansion that turned into a makeshift hospital was the sole thing keeping you from sliding down the walls and melting in a puddle of your own tears. 

It felt like Novocain was melting on your tongue, numbing your voice and actions when men bowed in your direction the moment you passed them. Oh—right. With your father indisposed, you were the acting head of the Blood Phoenixes. A title you took little pleasure in. Especially when the door fell open to reveal your father’s fragile body lying on the bed.

In his frail state, you weren’t sure what you were terrified of in the first place. He was no longer the horrifying monolith who dictated your life, whose fists landing on your flesh you were intimately acquainted with. 

It would be sickeningly easy to lift the pillow by the side of his salt-pepper streaked hair and smother the last of his breath as a repercussion for the cruelty he showed you throughout your whole life. The glint in your eyes spoke of such malicious intentions.

“Please, leave us for a moment.”

The men had no choice but to melt out of the room, their heads bowed forward. Chifuyu squeezed your shoulder, departing a bit of his strength while he followed the rest of them. Your father’s eyes flickered open, and he grunted at the sight of you. 

One half of his face was completely sagging, as if the muscles had given out, leaving his right eye drooping, his mouth perpetually fashioned in a half-frown. Ghastly. He looked like a creature of the night, so unsightly, that if you were made of crueler stuff, you would’ve laughed in his face. 

Your heels clacked on the ground, and his working eye followed you, a sheen of fear in it.

“Tou-san.” 

You loomed over him, a woman with such an impassive face and shaking hands, it would be little wonder why he flinched when you raised your palms. In his eyes and mind, every single sin he committed against you flashed by rapidly; each horrible, ego-breaking word he hurled into your face, the faint scars on your arms, the slaps he dealt onto your susceptible cheek when you did not answer him from the fear. One time, he had hauled you by your hair towards the balcony, shaking you hard enough for your teeth to rattle, screaming how he was going to throw you over the railings if you dared defy him again.  

Unbidden, the tears chased down your face.

You lifted the pillow, fingers trembling. He gave a low moan, begging you with his one shining eye to not hurt him.

Your gut tightened. Your fingertips tingled with nerves when you reached out to him. 

Soft as down, you brushed the hair from his temple back, and gently lifted his head, placing the pillow underneath his tender skull.

Tomio exhaled noisily. You turned your face away. 

“Can you speak?”

He grunted in response.

“Your men filled me in,” you spoke with little inflection in your voice. “They tell me you have little chance of survival without a hospital’s aid.” Outside, lightning flashed. You swore you felt your phone vibrating again in your purse. “Perhaps that is for the best.”

The lack of light in your eyes when you turned your head to him was pronounced, especially when you touched your belly. His one eye flickered towards the soft of your stomach. “You know, I lied to you that day in your mansion to save Shuji. I said I was pregnant—” 

A loud grunt that sounded like a reprimand. 

“—but, I didn’t know. I actually was pregnant.”

Your expression was a blank slate, one your father could not read. His wrinkles became more pronounced in a deep frown. “It looks like I have to disappoint you again, tou-san. It is a girl.”

The lie you told weighed heavily on your tongue. Not a lie, you amended. A speculation you wanted to come true. You wished with your entire soul that Shusei would be a baby girl so you would never have to contend with the idea of your father’s men hounding him. Trying to appoint him as their next leader.

You would rather cut your own finger off than see your baby boy transform into a cruel man like his grandfather.

Like his father.

It had to end with you. 

A tear slipped down your cheek from his closed off expression. Your father breathed heavily, like he was growing to anger, but the frustration of his uncooperating body held him back from fully reaching the peak of his rage. My fault. Everything is my fault.

“But, what do you care? You’ve only ever seen me as a pawn, right? An extension of you to order around. To beat when you needed a way to release your frustrations. You have never seen me as your daughter.”

Straightening your spine, every crevice in your heart ached, bleeding a mile wide to run red rivulets down puffy cheeks. You were so very, very tired.

“I confess I once thought it was my fault that okasan passed away. You made sure to remind me of that.”

Foolish. You were crying like a fool. Openly sobbing, you pressed a palm to your heaving mouth, your hands shaking. Every fibre of your soul ripping cleanly in two. Focus… I need to focus. 

Your watery eyes landed on the soft duvet, fisting the white sheet. This was your last goodbye to your father, after all. 

Sucking in a sharp breath, you decided it was the right time to spill your soul. The pain you suffered, the numerous times you held your tongue to keep the peace, the blows you took without a single complaint. The half-life you were forced to live that you could never go back to. Not when your freedom was so close. It’s time to say goodbye. 

“I was a child, tou-chan.” Daddy. This was the first time in your life you have ever called him that. The term was clunky and hollow in your mouth—completely foreign. “And all a young girl wants is her father’s love. All I ever wanted was your love.”

The great L/N Tomio, whose name had the power to shake a man’s core, who had killed and maimed thousands of people in his colourful career as a yakuza head, was nothing but a limp vegetable with tears beading in his lashline. 

Those beady dark eyes were hopeless pits of agony, fixated on your face. 

“I’m leaving. Running away,” you pushed forward with this bitter truth. Even if Tomio was never the shining paradigm of a father, he deserved to know the implications his harsh control had over your miserable life.

“Did you know Shuji has been cheating on me all this while? He has a mistress and he loves her. More than me. Not even my own husband can find it in his soul to love me, but what did I expect?” A mirthless laugh left your aching lips. “That I was loveable? That I was special? I understand now. I understand my place in this world.” 

Lifting your wet eyes, you pinned him to the spot. A bit of drool was tricking down his parted mouth and you wiped it away with your sleeve. 

“If you recover, don’t search for me. I’m not your daughter anymore. I’m divorcing Shuji and leaving him behind. My baby girl will not carry Shuji’s name or yours.” Closing your eyes briefly, you gathered your strength and stood up on shaky legs. Tomio grunted frantically, trying to get you to stop. But, you did not hear him, covering your ears with cotton; coating your soul with antipathy. 

You spared the broken man drowning in his sheets one last look, his watery eyes dominating your vision. Trying hard to memorise the curve of the nose you inherited from him, the slight jut of the chin that was unmistakably an L/N family trait. You burned them down one memory at a time, leaving only a ringing white canvas behind. 

Tomio made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded awfully like your name.

You regarded him with a smile that did not touch your red-rimmed eyes. “Goodbye, tou-chan. I wish you well.”

His frantic grunts and muffled sobs resounded around the room, but you did not turn back. Did not want to take any pleasure in his suffering because at the end of the day, you were not cruel like your father. Your mother’s famed patience and her resilience flowed in your veins, canceling out that monster’s misdeeds. You were never L/N Tomio’s daughter.

Chifuyu greeted you with a frown when he noticed your red-rimmed eyes and defeated air.

“Y/N—”

“Take me home, please.” You rested a hand on your belly and every man intrinsically knew. The last thing they wanted was for Tomio’s grandchild to suffer under the immense stress its mother was facing.

“Shuji-san gave me a call,” Chifuyu murmured, impervious to you stiffening at the sound of his name. “He wanted to know if you were alright because you were not answering your phone.” The BMW’s door was pried open, and you got into the back seat, waiting for the dark-haired man to follow you. An underling drove you and Chifuyu back to the penthouse in Akasaka, and you remained like stone under his flitting worry.

“Y/N—”

Sensing he wanted to unearth the deeper reason as to why you were completely silent, you shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ever a sweet man, Chifuyu tried to comfort you. “He will be fine. Tomio will recover well.”

It was to his surprise when you leaned forward, clicking the button to activate the car’s divider, leaving the both of you in a sound-proof bubble of tension.

“Y/N—”

“Tell me the truth, Chifuyu,” you began, the knot in your stomach tight. You massaged your abdomen, and he flickered his ocean eyes to that minute movement. “Shuji is cheating on me, is he not?”

How it burned to have those words pass your lips. You were not the only one feeling its callous effects. Chifuyu winced, and he turned his gaze towards the outside world, buying time to reply.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” your voice was feeble even to your own ears. “I know the truth. It’s that secretary, isn’t it? Ichika?” 

Her name was the catalyst for Chifuyu to defrost. He peeled his eyes from the blurry scenery, the rain pelting down in streaks that filled the car with white noise. The driver in the front cleared his throat out of habit, remaining oblivious to the solemn conversation. 

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes, turning your face away.

“I did not tell you because—”

“Does everyone know?” A listless quality befell your tone. You felt like you were about to break apart. “Am I the last to know that my own husband has been unfaithful to me?”

Chifuyu exhaled. “Kisaki does not know. Shuji would not tell him because—”

“It would jeapordise the deal. I see.” Your frosty exterior fractured and you hiccuped a sob. It was your hormones flaring, the stress and heartbreak catching up fast. You had to get home quick.

“What will you do?”

The dark-haired man cautiously murmured. You did not know what to say to him. “Will you leave? Are you planning to divorce him?”

You blanched. Were your intentions that obvious?

As if hearing your thoughts, Chifuyu exhaled. “I know it must be a blow to you and you want to leave this place as soon as you can. I understand.”

Shaking your head, you murmured, “I do not know.” As anticlimactic as it was, this was the truth. “I do not know what I should do next.”

Whatever you expected Chifuyu to say, it was not this: “Let me help you.”

You assessed him carefully. Matsuno Chifuyu was by no means a man whose trust was given freely. He demanded loyalty from his men—a measure of character that made his division stand out from the rest of the greasy thugs in Toman. Any man who is worth their salt would have Chifuyu’s trust and fealty. You were surprised you had his.

“What about Shuji?” you cautiously murmured. “What if he finds out you helped me?”

“He would not.” 

You were quietly reeling from the unflinching reassurance in his tone. “Shuji deserves to never have you in his life, ever again. Y/N, I’ve always wanted to help you ever since the moment I found out about what that bastard did to you. I just couldn’t open my mouth because I did not want to strain your healing process.”

Something in your chest twinged. “Is that the truth?”

Chifuyu nodded, a fire you had never seen before in his brilliant, azure eyes. It half-scared you. “I wouldn't lie to you, Y/N.”

The car rolled to a stop, but you barely noticed. You were locked in a battle of trust and surrender. To give Chifuyu a chance to help was to rely on yet another person in your life whose true intentions were dubious at best. But on the flip side, the ache in your chest, the wounded little girl who only ever wanted someone to hold her hand, could’ve wept with relief.

Finally, she screamed, happiness streaking down her face. Someone loves me enough to care.

The unseen, but ever present burden you carried obstinately to shoulder that little girl’s heavy sadness and dejection was lifted. 

“Okay.”

Chifuyu let you hold onto his arm when you stepped out, and for once, you did not fear the rain. Not when he was by your side.

He helped you up the penthouse elevator, careful to never let go of your elbow. He was soaked from the tip of his head down to his toes, but that bright fire never dissipated from his gaze. 

It carried a flicker of hope in you, a little flame that licked and danced underneath your heart. Igniting it to hold fast to your resolve to let your walls falter and put your trust in him.

“Take what you need.”

You did as he said, moving your limbs mechanically. Inside your purse, your phone vibrated. You fished for it, removing the damning device and seething in rage at the name flashing on the screen.

Shuji was stubbornly trying to reach you. 15 missed calls and a few more texts. You didn’t bother to read them. Chifuyu watched as you rushed towards the balcony, sliding open the door and tossing your phone right into the sea of lights where it nosedived down fifty stories. Sure to shatter into a million pieces upon impact on the granite pavement.

By a tiny margin, you felt lighter. Chifuyu did not comment on the stormy anger swirling in your countenance, standing a little to the side as you raged, bubbled and seethed, your true emotions allowed to prowl like a tiger finally set free into the wild. You were ruthless, stuffing your clothes in your tote bag, taking cash, burner cards and phones. Stocking up as if an apocalypse was soon to happen.

Through it all, he never broke the silence, watching you work until eventually, you ran out of steam. He saw it in the slump of your shoulders, the teeming anger you held fastidiously to propel you slowly ebbing away til you were left with teary eyes and an air of grief.

He approached you slowly, getting down on one knee, watching while you sobbed into your palms, tears like the fattest diamonds trickling down your face.

You could not look at him—at this yakuza underboss who was as much part of your father’s world as you once was. Could not bear for him to see you this heartbroken.

“Y/N—”

“You must think I-I’m weak.” 

Surprise coloured your features when he gripped your hand, squeezing it. Cajoling you to look into his eyes. “Look at me—hey, c’mon—look at me.”

You slowly lifted your eyes to find his azure ones boring into yours. It made you want to flinch, cry and curl into a ball at the same time.

“Y/N, you’re so fucking strong. Don’t you see? Anyone who is in your position would’ve broken apart into pieces. I wouldn’t even be able to lift my head,” he emphasised. “Don’t make yourself small. You’re so much bigger than you think you are.”

Chifuyu, stop. Your expression crumpled and you were unable to stomach the hurt any longer. It exploded in a loud cry, one that took him aback.

“I don’t want to be strong!” you shrieked, blubbering almost violently. Mama, help me. You held onto your belly, sobbing ardently. “Don’t you see? I want to be loved.” 

Five words. A whole world of pain that opened right before your eyes. 

The insurmountable ache came to its fever pitch. 

“No one loves me!” your words fragmented across the empty room, backed up by your unceasing sobs. 

Chifuyu’s wide eyes dominated your vision; the silence stretching on. “My father hates me… he’s made it very clear he never wanted me in his life,” you blubbered, holding onto your midsection. God, it hurts… it hurts so fucking much. Every fibre of your being was falling apart, the sobs you held at bay overpowering you, drowning you in its endless waves of pain that found no shore.

Like a flimsy boat wrecked in the middle of the storm, there was nothing you could hold onto—nothing that you would anchor the pain.

Snot and tears coagulated down your face, and you turned your body away, unable to handle the mere thought of someone seeing you this vulnerable. Your voice shook, brittle as broken glass. “My husband betrayed me. He doesn’t love me… he made me feel so ugly and pathetic. So, don’t lie to me, Fuyu. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me and tell me I mean something. I’m worthless. I’m nothing. No one loves me.” A loud sob tore through you, ripping apart the seams of your restraint. 

It was true, wasn’t it?

You never had anyone in your life. Unloved since day one, no one had ever shown you a shred of kindness. The universe aligned against you—born into a family rich with everything but love. Beaten, ignored. Neglected. Then, you were thrusted into a marriage where you were played like a pawn till the very bitter end. And now, you were pregnant with the baby of a man who would kill you in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for his deal with Toman. 

Why am I still alive?  God, you squeezed hard around your belly, holding onto the last vestiges of your sanity. Make it end; kill me, please. 

Chifuyu pressed his shaky palms around yours. Those molten crystal eyes misted over with tears, and his jaw ticked from the restrained anger and devastation on your behalf. He tried to get you to look at him, but everytime his cool fingers prised your face up to meet him, your eyes would dart away, swollen and brimming with perpetual misery.

It pained him to see you like this; so broken and beaten from the unjustness of your situation. 

“Hey—hey… look at me. Look at me, Y/N. Your baby does—your baby loves you.” Chifuyu’s firm but fragile voice cut through the shattering glass of your fragile thoughts. “Y/N, your baby adores you. You mean the world to him or her. And I… I love you.” 

You shook your head, dislodging more tears that seeped into your white blouse. “You’re lying to me. Stop lying.”

His calloused hands tighten around yours. “You want me to prove it? Fuck, fine, I-I’ll proof it.” The sound of his sharp inhale rattled in his chest. 

“The first time you ever smiled at me felt like the fucking sun opening my damn eyes to the world. I’ve loved you since then—since you got into my car, scolded me to respect your boundaries, and drank with me until you stumbled in those fucking ridiculous heels. I love you. And I’m sorry that bastard made you doubt yourself, but you are not your thoughts, Y/N. You are more than that. You mean so much more.”

Hiccupping back your sobs, you finally found the strength to lift your head, falling into those sincere, crystal blue currents. Your body moved before your brain could catch up; Chifuyu did not impede your touch. 

You twined your fingers in his hair, dragging them down his face, and cupping his cheek. The dark-haired man dared not move or speak, letting you trace the rough skin of his chin with the pad of your index finger. No words were spouted between you, and there didn’t need to be any.

Your lips did the talking—rasping warmly against his. His arms came to wrap around you, holding your trembling body fast to his chest. Chifuyu tasted like mint and sunshine, the warmth of his broad muscles underneath your palms bleeding into your skin.

On instinct, you parted your mouth and he took the chance to slip his tongue inside your warm cavern, tasting your honeyed moans and breathy little gasps. 

Fuck. Matsuno Chifuyu could see why Hanma Shuji had fallen for you. It was incredibly easy to do so; every soft curve of your body from your gravid breasts to your arching back dripped with feminine submission. How easily you lost yourself in a man’s touch, how you bloomed open like a peony in the summer under heated palms. 

He roamed his hands down your sides, over your belly and right in between your legs. You mewled into his mouth when he started to trace the swell of your clit through your panties, finding a wet spot slowly forming on the modest cotton, driving him insane. Chifuyu groaned, and you eagerly lapped up his hunger, taking it down your throat with a whisper of his name.

Something about your breathy tone forming the cadence of him, was enough to make Chifuyu see stars.

One second you were perched on the loveseat, tears down your face, and the next, you were in his arms, straddling his lap. 

“‘Fuyu—”

“I know,” he mumbled against the flush of your throat. “I’ll make it so good for you, baby.”

Shuji used to call you ‘baby’. Your heart squeezed and tears shone in your eyes. There was no way you could go through with this, not when Chifuyu was earnestly suckling on your pulse point, his hands kneading your swollen tits. 

“Chifuyu, I can’t.” A catch in your voice spoke volumes of your pain. He stilled his descent down the graceful column of your neck, his hands falling to his side. 

“You love him,” his breath played with the loose strands of your hair. This close, he smelled like cigarettes and oranges. “I understand. It’s all still fresh for you.”

You nodded, hiding your face behind a curtain of your hair, you eased off his lap, wrapping your arms around your knees. Unable to look at him, you were quietly stunned when Chifuyu lifted your face to meet his own. The same fire as before burned in those brilliant eyes, and you were close to immolating yourself in the temptation of his embrace.

Chifuyu’s kiss-swollen lips quirked into a smile, the pink dusting on his cheeks endearing. “But, I will wait for you, Y/N. I promise you this. You’re worth the wait.”

The poignancy roaring in your chest, the blood flooding your brain; none of them were quite as potent as Chifuyu’s small admission. It was to your own detriment that you swallowed your tears and straddled his lap again, those large, warm palms holding you steady. Giving you the push you needed to take the final step of crossing a line you could never come back from.

But, hadn’t Shuji also crossed that same line?

As if sensing your thoughts heavy with him, Chifuyu mustered a lustreless chuckle. “If you want to use me to take revenge on him, be my guest, Y/N. I will happily offer myself up for your service.”

Your swollen eyes, the downturn lines of your mouth, even the baby burgeoning in your belly that belonged to another man could not deter the flame he held for you. For Chifuyu saw beyond your exterior, beyond the princess taught to put everyone’s happiness above her own. He saw a strong woman, right at the precipice of her life. A flower blooming from a crack in the asphalt. 

He saw a strength he had never encountered before in a woman, and it tiltillated him to no end; earning his respect and admiration. 

You closed your eyes, indecision rippling across your features. In a split second, it solidified into a grimace, and the glint of determination you held sparked like a livewire. Chifuyu held his breath. Allowed himself to be carried away when you tugged him down for a bruising kiss and reached for his belt, unzipping his pants. 

His cock breached your tight hole, and he exhaled a low moan, settling onto the hardwood floor (the same ones your husband walked day and night), as you swirled your hips, taking him in deeper. He tongued your pert and swollen nipples, suckling on them as you rode him with such frenzy it made him dizzy. 

You choked out his name and he bucked his hips upward, grazing your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your mouth falling slack and you breathed hard, whispering for him to cum. 

Your thighs would tense around him, and you held onto his shoulders with such determination, it would make him proud if you were truly his woman. His seed coated your walls, his kisses smothering your mouth and you let him. Let him plunder and use you; let him press his lips to your hair and fall into a quick doze.

Later, when he would open his eyes in a daze, he would find the penthouse empty. 

Your bags, your sweet smile, the lust ingrained in your features… had all dissipated like a dream.

He pulled his shirt back on, dressing stiffly, searching for you in every room, but ultimately got distracted by his buzzing phone.

Hanma’s name flashing on the screen inspired little fear in him, not when he knew off the full truth of the other man’s folly. 

“Matsuno?” Clipped and low, it was not hard to tell that his superior was stressed. “My wife. Is she alright? She has not answered any of my calls.” 

Chifuyu toyed with the idea of telling him the truth, but one look around the frozen, empty penthouse gave him pause, and he decided that Shuji needed to see for himself. See his marriage dissolve with his own two eyes. So, he lied through his teeth.

“Let me reach her. I’m still on the road back from the warehouse.” Not entirely a duplicity. The half-truth hummed in the back of his throat like the pleasant buzz of an alcoholic drink.

“Oh.” Shuji exhaled. “Let me know when you do.” The line clicked shut.

Good luck on that, buddy. With your phone smashed into smithereens and your whereabouts unknown, Chifuyu could only presume you had escaped while he was in the fugue of his post-orgasmic haze. Smart girl.

You were proving to be a vixen indeed, and it didn’t put him off. Chifuyu was actually spellbound by your brilliance. 

But, he could not admire your spunk for long. He had to search for you—not to share with Hanma your location, god no. That bastard did not deserve you. Purely selfish, his true intentions were to take care of you. Be your saviour.

Since he was a boy, he had dreamed of being a woman’s salvation. The printed panels filled with declarations of love hummed in him like a guiding star as he left the penthouse, hell bent on flushing out every district in Tokyo until you turned up.

Matsuno Chifuyu wanted you, and he would not stop at any lengths til this beguiling woman—this seductress veiled with innocence—would be in his arms once again.

Shuji was completely soaked. 

From head to toe, the rain had seeped into his clothes, his skin, weighing the ends of his hair heavily. He shook off the excess water, minding the puddles pooling underneath his dress shoes. Shucking them off, he carried the box of takeout food in his hand like a warrior returning from battle with the enemy’s head for his beloved monarch, careful to set it on the console table.

In his other hand, he carried a bag full of baby clothes, ointments for swollen joints and more nausea medication, a surprise for his beloved wife.

Y/N must be asleep. He had heard from Iroto about Tomio, and there was little doubt you would be conflicted. Shuji could understand—he had once been in your shoes. When his father passed on, he was half-agony, half-relief. The man who had made him bleed countless of times, who made his mother’s life a living hell, was finally buried six feet under.

But, on some days, it felt like he was still relieving his father’s death. Still in that empty morgue. Still standing under the rain as they buried the last remaining family member he had left, far away from his mother’s own resting place. Shuji was adamant on not leaving his parents together, knowing it would be what Hanma Tsuki wanted. 

If she could not find peace in her waking life, her only son would make sure she had the eternal felicity she deserved in death. 

“Y/N?” his voice echoed off the empty penthouse. He peeled off his wet jacket from his broad frame, frowning at the resounding silence.

“Doll? Y/N? I bought some dumb baby stuff for Shusei and food for you. Are you hungry?”

His voice carried like the echo of a lost ghost. A chill ran down his spine. Shuji set the items down the table, mind ablaze with traumatic images of you dead or dying. Heart in his throat, he was intimately cognizant with your withdrawn personality. She would never… Y/N would never let someone like her father affect her this much. 

Scouring the living room, he was assaulted with your fragrance, but no sight of you. The bedroom was empty save for a scattering of jewels on the floor. Fuck… did we get robbed? Despite the space looking pretty much pristine as how he left it before his mission, there were a few notable items missing.

Your tote bag, your favourite pair of earrings. The large pendant on the diamond necklace he gifted you. 

His chest felt strangely empty when he reached forward to gather the stray gems. Tucking them in his closed fist, he surveyed the room, a sense of foreboding so strong, it choked out every last fibre of rationalism in him.

Shuji walked out of the room slowly, like a sleepwalker strolling through his worst nightmare. 

The food you prepared for yourself on the stove was in a pot as cold as ice. The fridge was filled to the brim. The cupboards were packed with unopened boxes of Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese.

Yet, you were nowhere to be found.

He darted his brimming gaze towards the kitchen table, and something shimmery caught his eye. 

Upon closer inspection, it was your wedding ring, and underneath it, a single sheet of paper.

There was a tremble in his palm that was not borne from the rain water chilling him to the bone. 

Only six words were written on the otherwise blank page, but it was enough to render him mute and rooted to the spot. Drowning in waves of disbelief, rage and complete regret.

Shuji unclenched his fist and the diamonds scattered to the ground, the skittering sounds loud in his ears roaring with blood and rash accusations.

Cursing his stupidity. Cursing his folly. 

Six words. 

A whole world of pain that delivered itself like a deathblow straight to his core.

I know the truth. It’s over. 

Shuji did not break as much as he shattered.

The longest hours of his life where time felt like it slowed down to infinity were dotted with flashes of lucidity where he briefly came to his senses that he was acting like a man who had lost his mind. 

With his hair mused from his shaky hands running through his thick locks one too many times and his eyes red-rimmed, Shuji raced around Tokyo searching for you.

He dug up every resource he could find to scour the city for his missing wife. Underlings who were wrenched from strip clubs, illegal underground fights, and even a dentist appointment had no choice but to comply with their boss’ wishes of searching for his errant wife. But, after hours of flitting around the city, keeping their eyes peeled and ears sharp, they could not find the elusive woman that had turned the great Reaper’s heart inside out. 

She had vanished into thin air, they told him. Train lines, motels, clinics. Everywhere they went, they found no trace of her. 

Once the sun broke over the horizon like the spilling of a watery golden yolk, he called off the search. Tired men slumped back into their homes and into the arms of weary prostitutes. Underground scums returning back to the cesspit they came from. For Shuji, he went home. 

Or, what was left of home.

The penthouse was starkly quiet, every ragged breath he inhaled rattling around the space. Your fragrance lingered, and like a man haunted by the vengeful ghosts of his past, he stumbled into the large and desolate bedroom, straight to the vanity table where your Chanel perfume lay innocuously on the lacquered surface.

He sprayed some onto his wrist, the woodsy warm vanilla calming him; letting him pretend that you were right in his arms for a split second when he fell into a jagged, restless sleep.

Dreams of your sweet face contorting into a snarl, of your tears turning into peals of mirthless laughter rang in his subconscious. You were smashing your wedding ring into pieces. You reached inside your womb and tore his baby from the root of where that sweet soul grew. 

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you, Shuji.

Venomous words dripped from your lax mouth. You cried rivers of blood, begging him to undo his sins towards you. You’re a fucking monster, Hanma Shuji. 

Shuji awoke with a start to dusk.

One day. He blinked his dry eyes and stared at the ceiling, completely exhausted. One day without my Y/N.

He continued with his search. Soon, a day turned into two, and on the third day, he was informed by his subordinates that L/N Tomio had passed on in restless sleep. They told him that the old man never stopped grunting his daughter’s name, calling out to her even when he took his final breath. He must’ve known about Y/N. So, the man did have a heart. Too bad his only child was not here to see it. 

I am always the last man standing. Shuji watched as they took his father-in-law’s body and buried it in a white cloth. Yakuza bosses were little more than broken men at the end of their lives, and the funeral was a pathetic affair. Men who fought alongside Tomio for his whole life did not even bother to be at his wake to pay him their respects. Besides Shuji, a scattering of Toman numbers and a weathered man who identified himself as Tomio’s estranged younger brother, no one else was present at the wake.

He was sitting at a lowered chabudai, drinking some sake when a low baritone broke his mindless concentration.

“Hanma Shuji?”

Your uncle was staring at him, smile genial and the first signs of liver spots dotting his wide cheeks. “You are Tomio’s son-in-law, yes?” 

Your discarded wedding ring weighed heavily in his breast pocket, giving him the strength to see this day through. “Yes.”

“Where is my niece? Did she not want to attend her own father’s funeral?” 

Shuji did not answer him. He asked a question of his own. “Are you L/N Dan’s father? The one who is the heir?” 

The older man tutted and sat down next to him, helping himself to a spare cup of sake. “Heavens, no. I am Touma. L/N Touma. The youngest brother.”

Touma. The exiled one.

Shuji had briefly heard about your other uncle the day he arrived at your mansion to finalise the engagement with your father. A pacifist and the only L/N brother who did not follow down the dark path, Touma was a blip in the Blood Phoenix’s history. A flaw. Easily erased. Instead of being ruthless and bloodthirsty like his brothers, he chose a life of enlightening students on the wonders of Japanese literary prose. 

Something told Hanma Shuji that should you have known your uncle better, he would’ve been your favorite person in the world. 

“She’s not here, is she?”

The sadness in your uncle’s tone made Shuji’s gut tighten.

“No,” he admitted. 

Touma took one good look at him.

“And you have no idea where she is, don’t you?” 

Shuji lifted his eyes from the sake glass, his gaze flashing. Touma gave him a toothy grin. 

“I heard everything about my niece’s affairs. Word does travel fast even if you are an outcast.” The old man knocked back the glass and winced, kissing his teeth. “To tell you honestly, I was hoping she would be here. I’ve been waiting for twenty-one years to tell her the truth.”

The reaper stilled, waiting for the other man’s next words. The funny thing about grief is that it can loosen one’s tongue more effectively than the world’s strongest drink. And Touma looked like the kind of man who was perpetually nursing a hangover from holding onto a lie.

“Tomio was not her father,” Touma muttered wistfully, looking off into the distance. “I am.”

Shuji swore he heard his heart crack. The beatings, the antagonizing, the sufferings you endured at that monster’s hand… it all became clear now. But, what the other man could never figure out was what could’ve caused you to stay with a man who was not your own flesh and blood in the first place when your real father was still alive and breathing? 

The answer came to him borne on the wings of a heavy sigh. 

“Tomio’s wife—Meiko—was the only woman I have ever loved.” He poured himself another shot of sake. Shuji did not miss how his hands were shaking. “We were young and foolish. I got Meiko pregnant with Y/N when Tomio was at the height of his career. Before Tomio cleaned up my mess, Meiko and I were inseparable. In fact, all of us grew up with her and when I heard what I had done… I must confess, I did a cowardly thing.” His eyes turned glassy, and in this light, they looked almost like the curve of yours. “I left Y/N’s mother and went to the States. I never came back for her or for my baby. And then, when I finally mustered up the courage to face her, I found out she had passed away and my Y/N—my sweet girl—was raised by a man who worshipped the ground Meiko walked on but despised the reminder of me. Despised my baby.”

Touma chuckled hollowly. “I was so wracked by guilt that I never came back. I never stepped foot in Tokyo ever again. I let my daughter think that brute was her father and I never came back for her, I never—”

Shuji slammed his cup of sake down, cracking the glass. The air stilled. Electricity crackled in between his fingers, his heart fracturing into two. Touma’s lower lip wobbled.

“You should’ve come back for her. Maybe she would’ve known a father’s true love if you had just manned the fuck up and raised her.” Tears pricked in his eyes, and Touma’s countenance turned reticent.

“Even so. I heard the conditions for the marriage he imposed on you two. I also heard—pardon my intrusion—that it was far from a happy union.”

Shuji’s jaw clenched and he shot to his feet, his patience wearing thin for this sorry excuse of a man. “Whatever it is you heard, it’s far too late to give a shit about a woman who’s not even here.” His sneer pulled taut over his gaunt cheekbones, golden eyes manic with loss. “Don’t you see? She left me. Your daughter, niece, whatever the fuck she is to you—she’s pregnant with my baby and she left me because I was a piece of shit to her. A lying, cheating, fucking piece of shit. So in a way, you and I are the same—we’re both assholes in our own right.” 

He was breathing hard, tears beading in his lash line.

“But, the d-difference between you and I… the difference is that I will never stop searching for her. I will never abandon her like you did. I love her. I love her so much she’s all I can think about. I—”

He sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his jaw and turning his face away. The tears continued to pool in the back of his eyelids. 

Touma stood up and his eyes, so much like yours, bored into the side of Shuji’s face. He expected the older man to hit him, to avenge his daughter with a swift right hook that the younger man knew he deserved. He wouldn’t stop his strike; he would welcome it.

But, what he got instead was a hand on his shoulder, a pressure that echoed forlornly with a similar loss.

“Trust me.” Touma’s empty tone was haunting, his vacant eyes even more perturbing. “I know.” 

The older man patted his arm before he shuffled out of the empty wake room, his parting whisper hanging in the desolate silence. 

“I know what that regret feels like.” 

You awoke with a start, skin slicked with sweat. 

Outside, the world was shimmering with a starting pour that covered the world in a curtain of rain. You shrank back from the window when lightning arced ahead, and you tasted the fear in the back of your throat. 

As irrational as it was, you despised the downpour, and you curled back underneath the motel’s blanket, shivering. 

Thunder clapped and you clamped down on a shriek when the quick flash illuminated a figure outside the window, mere feet away from your frozen body. His hair slicked with rain, those oceanic eyes scanned the decrepit building, like he was debating if he should search the place. You hunched down the windowsill further when his gaze flitted past your position. 

Chifuyu had his hands in his pocket, a purse on his lips. Roving those listless eyes down the street, he bowed his head and walked down the street. You exhaled. 

Sitting with your back against the headboard, you quickly shook your head and tugged the threadbare curtains tightly shut, cutting off the sliver of orange street light illuminating your room.

Your tired eyes circled over your bare essentials; the bundle of clothes, the dwindling supply of cash. Come tomorrow, you were getting on the first train out of Tokyo and towards the closest airport. You just had enough money to book a one-way flight to Singapore. You would raise your baby away from this life. Away from the haunting skyscrapers of this great metropolis.

Anything to remove yourself from this world. 

A loud knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. The doorknob rattled and you shrank back, breathing hitched.

“Y/N?” 

Your stomach fell. How did he…?

“It’s ‘Fuyu. Hey. Can you open up? I’m just here to talk. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The sincerity shone brightly in his tone, and you cursed how sloppily you had left a trail. But, Chifuyu was a Toman leader. He had connections beyond your pathetic position. Finding you was as easy as asking the right person, and you supposed that was exactly what he had done.

“Y/N? Hey? You there?” 

Ungluing your limbs, you shuffled towards the door, holding onto your swelling belly, pausing inches from the thin wood. It was telling that Chifuyu gave you a choice to bridge the gap between him and the barrier. If he wanted to, he could easily break down the hinges and forcefully barge into the room.

But, he didn’t. He waited. 

You took in a shuddering breath. “What are you doing here?” 

A brief second of silence stretched between you both. “I came here to help you. And to share some news with you. May I come in?”

Hand on the knob, you debated for a second. Chifuyu seemed to read your mind.

“I’m not here to take you back to Toman. I won’t do that to you. I just want to talk and check up on you, Y/N.”

Heart in your throat, you glanced down at your rumpled silk nightie, and hastily tugged on a cardigan, remembering with searing clarity the hot lines of his muscular body against yours. Despite your reservations, your heart squeezed, and you swallowed down on your hesitation, opening the door. 

His forlorn expression brightened infinitesimally at your uncertain countenance.

“Y/N.” 

You stepped back, wary of being within arms length to him. There was no telling what was going on in Chifuyu’s mind. His blue eyes were stormy, brewing worse than the downpour outside.

Trickles of water beaded on his lashes, and he studied your features, waiting for you to speak.

“What do you want?” Your voice cracked, and you hated how small you sounded.

The edge in his blue orbs softened, and somehow, you knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

“I want to—”

“No.” 

His lips thinned into a frown and yours parted in surprise at how readily you defied another person without another thought to their feelings. You were a stranger even to yourself.

“Oh. I was about to tell you I want to help. I know you need to escape Tokyo, but I have to give you fair warning.” Nothing could prepare you for what he said next. “Shuji has men everywhere in the city looking for you. He’s getting desperate.” 

It didn’t make sense. Your head spun, and your lower lip was caught between your teeth. 

Chifuyu lowered his voice. “It’s not safe for me to be here. Can I come in?”

Confused by this turn of events, you let him into your room. Those blue eyes shimmered in the half-light, and you perched yourself on the edge of the lumpy mattress while he stood by the door. Despite the distance and his soaked clothes, you could still feel his warmth radiating from where you sat. 

“Shuji is devastated. He’s a fucking mess. I spoke to Iroto and he told me that bastard hasn’t slept for days.”

What does this have to do with me? You steeled your heart and cooled your gaze. “Oh. I see.”

Unperturbed by your lack of reactions, Chifuyu continued. “I also believe you deserve to know this… but, your father is dead. He passed on a few days ago. Shuji was the one who buried him.”

That gave you pause. Your chest twinged and you sucked in a sharp breath. Tou-san. You blinked your glistening eyes and nodded, head bowing forward. “Thank you for keeping me informed.”

Another stretch of silence. Chifuyu took one step forward, and at your lack of reaction, he took one more. And another. Until he was standing right in front of you. His knees touched the ground and he slowly reached out to grip your shaking palms. When you didn’t push him away, he squeezed, begging you without words to lift your head and look him in the eyes.

“I was so worried about you.”

Your fingers twitched in his grasp. “How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy, but I got wind of a single female living alone in a rundown motel. Word came back that she was far too clean-looking to belong to these streets. I put two and two together.”

You quirked a joyless smile. “Well, here I am. Happy with what you see?”

He was sincerity personified when he said, “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Safe. The word melted like a bitter drop on your tongue. “So, what are you going to do now that you found me? Are you gonna rat me out to Shuji?”

Chifuyu snorted, shaking his head lightly. A few raindrops dislodged from the tips of his raven hair and flecked onto your exposed knees. “Why would I do that? I told you, I want to help.”

Finally, your eyes met his. A world of pain and conflict swirled in them, echoing the forlorn sobriety in his. 

“I want to help,” he said again, softer. “You deserve someone to help you so please, lean on me, Y/N.”

A sob bubbled from the back of your throat, and tears sprang down your cheeks, faintly shining in the dead of the night. “I want to. But, I’m scared, ‘Fuyu. I’m so scared.”

“Don’t be,” he straightened, and gathered you into his arms. Your cheek pressed right to his pulse point, and you could smell his musk, taste the rain and salt from his skin. Chifuyu was careful to not overwhelm you with too much physical contact, and the press of his body next to yours was comforting rather than salacious.

He kissed your forehead.

“Tomorrow, I’m sending you on a train out of Tokyo. You can go to the closest airport and book the next flight to another country. I’ll—”

“No,” your vehemance was quieter this time. Chifuyu opened his mouth to retort, but you beat him to the punch. “There’s somewhere else I need to go. A safer place.” 

“A safer place? Where is it?” 

His curiosity was a flickering ember in the night.

You quelled it with the oddest answer.

“An apartment complex in Minato. Shuji will never find me there.”

Chifuyu’s confusion was palpable.

“But, before I do that, I have to handle something if you would consent to help me.” 

One hand curled on your belly, it was a losing fight to hold back the tears and the horrifying self-loathing deep within your soul. The battle was over before it even began. 

Don’t do this, your inner voice screamed. Don’t do it!

“Y/N? What is it—“

“I need you to take me to the abortion clinic and help me sign the permission slip,” your lower lip wobbled, fresh tears cascading down your face. Beside you, Chifuyu was made of stone. 

“I need your help to finally cut all ties with Shuji.”

The sorry excuse for a reaper stared out at the revolving world below his feet, holding a glass of whiskey tightly in his fist.

Golden eyes untouched by sleep and dark with despair mapped the turns and dips of Tokyo sprawled open like a patchwork quilt, listless in both actions and thought. His phone buzzed, but he let it go to voicemail. Too many times his hopes were raised, only for it to come crashing down when yet another report of his underling’s inability to find you reached his jaded ears. 

Shuji was tired.

More than that, he was exhausted.

Every morning, he would greet the world with mentally taxing thoughts of your well-being; where you were, if you were safe, and if—his throat tightened—if Shusei was well. 

His lost family. 

The glass of whiskey fell to the floor, his shaky hand unable to grasp onto it. 

Fuck. He would have to call someone to clean up this mess.  

Shuji breathed heavily, and his pocket vibrated again. Cursing, he fished for his phone, and when he heard who it was on the other line, he nearly growled.

“Shu—“

“Why do you still have my number?”

His clipped annoyance deterred her from replying. She cleared her throat and pushed on despite his irritation. “I wanted to give you my condolences on your father-in-law’s passing. I hope you and your family are okay.”

Family. Shuji’s eyes stung. He exhaled. “Sure. Thanks.”

He was about to end the call when Ichika’s next words stopped him short. “That is if Y/N is still there with you.”

“Huh—“

She ended the call, leaving him perplexed and reeling. Before he could dial his ex-mistress back to ask her exactly what the fuck she meant, someone knocked on his door.

“What?” Shuji gnashed his teeth when he saw it was Iroto. The underling bowed low, and spoke through stiff lips.

“Sir, I apologize for entering without permission, but there is something you must know.”

From the lapels of his coat, Iroto procured a brown envelope. Its contents became of interest to Shuji who watched impassively when the other man removed more than ten glossy photos. 

His heart lurched when it registered in his sleep-deprived mind who it was in those images. 

In every shiny square, your face was a sweet beam that served to heighten his curiosity, not quench it. You looked as fatigued as he did, and an air of despair was conscripted in the lines of your sweet expression. But, that was not the only thing that caught Shuji’s eye.

The familiar sign, the grey walls, and potted plants in front of what many assumed was a nondescript clinic. Shuji knew better. 

This was the same clinic he had meant to take Ichika for her abortion.

He stared numbly at the tears in your eyes, the pinch in your brow. The grief splashed out so clearly in this damning evidence of his destroyed hopes.

“When—“ Shuji’s voice failed him. “When did you take these photos?”

“Early this morning. My men had to develop these to make sure it was really her.” A beat of hesitation. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Iroto bowed, hastily shuffling out of the office before he could be subjected to the reaper’s infamous temper. Shuji was barely breathing. He stared holes into your countenance, memorizing the curve of your brow, the fall of your hair. 

Y/N… did you really do this? He sat back in his chair, letting the waves of self-hatred and loathing drag him under. I had no idea how much my actions affected you.

Shakily, he grasped onto the photos, the only living proof that you still roamed the same earth as him and held it close to his chest. His phone was regrettably empty of your sweet face, his ego never letting him consent to falling in love with his own wife—not even to taking photos of her—and for the upteenth time, Shuji cursed himself out. 

If only you had loved her sooner… if only you had stopped being an asshole… maybe your wife would still be here with you today.

Despicable. He was disgusting. 

Shuji pitched his head forward, breathing hard. He tossed the pictures aside, shooting to his feet and flipping his chair in the process; a loud cry wrenched from his lips as he started hurling pens, books, expensive ornaments into the opposite wall where they rebounded or shattered from the force of his grief. His anger was a typhoon, unbridled in its lust for destruction. He slammed his fists into the drywalls, leaving multiple indentations from the strength of his throws, and ripped his tie off, tugging on the roots of his hair with shaky fingers. 

Sorrow lined his muffled cries and he fell to his knees in the middle of the destroyed room, curling into a pitiful ball. The 6’5 renowned reaper of souls, who would not blink twice at gouging a man’s eyes out while he still stood breathing, was made up of heaving sobs and unrelenting regret for how he treated his wife.

Y/N… Shusei…

His heavy sobs reverberated across the room, and he wished you were right in front of him in this instance. You would know what to do; how to calm him down. Everything about you was goodness personified and he had lost out on the one person in his life who truly gave a shit about him. 

Worthless… he’ll grow up to be so worthless. A man’s face, so much like his own, sneering down at his trembling mother whose arms were like vines of protection around his frozen body. A complete waste of space—I should’ve killed him when I had a chance to. 

Shuji started giggling, his peals of laughter turning manic. Are you happy now? He cackled. Are you happy now, you bastard? You got what you wished for. I’m detestable. No one loves me and okasan is dead. Tell me, you fucking shithead—are you happy?

Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, he blubbered a watery laugh. Looks like your words are right, otou-san. I am a waste of space.

“What’s going on?”

Hanma peeled his watery eyes towards the doorway where Kisaki cut an imposing figure. His ice blue orbs were wary, surveying the remnants of destruction surrounding the eye of the storm where his best man laid, still curled up in a ball.

“What happened?”

Of course. Kisaki didn’t know. He hadn’t had a chance to tell him about what transpired in his home life with the current political upheaval in Blood Phoenix going on. Shuji turned reticent, his voice hoarse and haunted. 

“She’s gone.” 

The atmosphere in the room turned subterranean.

“She left me after finding out the truth that I cheated on her. Y/N has aborted my baby. She’s gone.”

For the longest minute, Kisaki did not say anything. Shuji remained on his knees, in a gesture of supplication, waiting for the death blow that would end his life. 

“Ah. Well, Tomio is dead so it doesn’t matter. Y/N is free to go and the marriage can be made void if that is what you wish.” Shuji stared at a fleck of blood on Kisaki’s otherwise spotless dress shoe, rigid with disbelief.

“She was a lost cause, anyway. A woman that young and inexperienced was never going to inspire leadership in an organisation like the Blood Phoenixes. I had hopes you could fill in Tomio’s shoes, but with his own daughter lost to you, there should be no reason why those men should follow you, either. It’s a lost cause.”

Was Kisaki serious? Did he really think Shuji was mourning the end of this deal and not the loss of his wife?

Apparently, the Pierrot sensed his mood darkening. “Oh. Was that not why you were upset? You should be dancing in relief that I am this forgiving. I’m in a good mood.”

When Shuji did not reply, Kisaki sighed. “Unless, I read it all wrong and you did, in fact, fall in love with Tomio’s brat.”

“Do not call her a brat,” Shuji mumbled automatically, coming to your defense. 

Kisaki raised a perfectly groomed brow. “Hmm. So you did fall in love with her. I thought she meant nothing to you? That once you did your duty and gave her a son, you would run away with that secretary of mine—or did you think I wouldn’t know?”

Shuji froze, his heart dropping right into his stomach.

“You weren’t much of a telltale, but that slut? She could never hide her true emotions. Don’t worry. I’ve taken the liberty of firing her for jeopardising this deal. You don’t  have to punish your lover.”

“We’re not lovers,” Shuji’s hoarse voice interrupted Kisaki’s tirade. “Not anymore. I dumped her after realising that Y/N is the one I want and not Ich…” 

He trailed off, unable to speak your name and his previous mistress’s in one sentence. It would be dishonorable to you. The real love of his life. 

“A little bit too late for that, isn’t it?” Kisaki softened the blow of his callous observation by sauntering over the miraculously intact bar-cart and fixing a drink for Hanma. He poured a glass of whiskey and handed it to the lovelorn man, sitting himself on the floor opposite him and nursing his own drink.

Shuji knocked back the flask of amber liquid until his throat burned and he dragged the glass back, kissing his teeth and wincing. “Yeah, it is.”

The silence stretched on, filled with pockets of quiet sips and contemplation. 

“You still have time to fix this, y’know,” Kisaki murmured. Hanma gripped his glass of whiskey tighter, the amber liquid sloshing onto his wrist. 

“And tell her what? That I want her back? That I’m in love with her after all the shit I did? It’s going to take a miracle to do that.”   

“So, do it.” Kisaki’s monotonous voice spoke volumes. “You’re the famous reaper, so act like one.” 

Kisaki was not seriously expecting him to hound you till the ends of the earth like the famed creature of death, was he? 

Or… he was. 

While the Pierrot was his sole title, Hanma could feel it rubbing off on him—becoming one with his facade. The dreaded collector of souls turned into a lovesick clown. He would sneer in self-pity if his leader’s words didn’t ignite in him a new purpose.

“Do you think I should do that?”

Pinning him with a fire in his eyes that Shuji had never seen before, Kisaki nodded.

“Don’t let Y/N slip out from your fingers the way Hina slipped out from mine. You can still fix this.” 

With the zeal of a starving man, Hanma searched for you throughout Tokyo. 

He started with the abortion clinic, retracing your steps. Perhaps you were recovering in a motel nearby from the procedure. Scouting the different locations, he even got desperate enough to sniff out the love hotels, worried you may be on a short-term stay and he would miss out on your figure when his back was turned. 

Many receptionists, upon recognising the tattoos on the back of his hand, tightened their smiles the moment he walked in the doors. 

Yes, there are many single female travelers here, but we’re not allowed to disclose the guest list, sir. 

As if life held a veil to his eyes, no matter what he did, he could not seek you out.

I just want to tell her how sorry I am. Shuji rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion catching up to him. It had been days since he had a decent night of sleep. Every time his head hit the pillow, he would dwell for hours in a fitful state, waking up in starts and stops, gasping for air, reaching towards the end of your bed to pull you close to him, like he always would whenever he had a nightmare. But, you were not there.

Somedays, just to get a lick of the rest he was sorely denied, Shuji would spray your fragrance onto your favorite pillow, holding it close to his chest as he pretended it was you. 

Ten days without her. The sun was losing its brightness. Akasaka was cold and stark from his perch on top of the world, glittering with nothingness as his arms ached emptily. The memory of your silhouette in them growing dimmer.

He was afraid to forget you. 

Shuji, look! Your laughter rang in his head, one finger pointing outside the great floor-to-ceiling windows of your bedroom where you both would just lay on the soft mattress and watch the clouds past by. That one looks just like a burger.

This is the second time you’re seeing food in the clouds, doll. He would tighten his arm around your waist, brushing a kiss onto your head. I think the baby is hungry. 

Shuji choked on a sob, smoke filling his lungs from the half-burnt cigarette dangling limply in his hand. 

What was the use of all these riches in the world, the best penthouse in the district and heaps of cash in his name when he did not even have his sweet wife to share it with? 

He turned to the photos of you still on his bedside table. The last living remnants he had of you. It must’ve been the thousandth time he was trying to memorise your face; the sad curve of your frown, the sheen of tears in your eyes. God, he wished he could remember you in a happy veneer and not this heartbreaking rendition of the woman he loved.

Today, he was too tired to go to work. He sent a text to Kisaki, telling the other man he was feeling under the weather and that he needed time to recover. It was not a lie. The sight of you, hidden by a lumpy cardigan, your expression pinched in pain as you exited that abortion clinic, broke something deep in him.

Shuji scrubbed a hand down his face, flicking his smudged stick into the ashtray, lips pressed into a thin line.

Come back to me, my darling. 

He started to choke up, close to tipping the scale towards a breakdown when his phone beeped with a text.

His heart leapt when he saw the words on his screen, disbelief lining every crevice of his stunned expression.

Kisaki’s Secretary: I know where your wife is.

That was the first thing that rendered him mute. The second? It was his ex-mistress who sent him the message herself. 

Hanma wasted no time. He slipped on a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans, running a hand through his hair to tame the waves. On a second thought, he strapped on a pair of black, leather gloves that hid the shake in his fingers. There was no time for styling his locks with pomade or even to brush them neatly back. He had to find you.

His driving was reckless as best, no other thought beyond the vision of you returning back into his arms. My Y/N… my love… 

The gas pedal almost touching the floor, Shuji raced towards Ichika’s apartment, wanting to hear from herself where his beloved wife was—and if she was pulling his leg, he was making sure to finish what he started that day in the apartment when she lied to him about her pregnancy. 

As fate would have it, the slender, pretty young woman was exiting her apartment when she nearly collided into his chest. Her sharp yelp was no match for his strength when he pushed her back through the door, locking it behind them as he bore down on her shivering figure, the fire in his golden eyes undeniable.

“Where is she?” he snapped without preamble.

Ichika, whose cheeks had leeched off colour, mutely opened and closed her mouth. Unable to speak. Shuji’s patience snapped.

“Well?” he snarled, taking one step closer to her, not missing how she flinched. “You got my attention now. Is that what you wanted?”

Ichika regained her composure and tacked on a sneer. Wrenching the silver ring from her finger, she threw it right into his face, enjoying with a perverse delight when the untamable rage spread across his features.

“I know this fucking pathetic ring was not meant for me. Take it back home to that bitch you call your wife and tell her—”

“I know it was you who shared our sex tape with Y/N.”

Her tirade died in the back of her throat. Ichika’s eyes widened, the fear behind them palpable. “H-how—”

“My men managed to recover Y/N’s Cloud before her phone was thrown down from the balcony. The messages are there. I know it was you.”

Rising to his full anger, Shuji let the angst and heartbreak take him under. Fully drenching him in an impenetrable red fog. “I just didn’t want to believe it because I thought you would understand. You would understand how much Y/N means to me. But, you’re a selfish bitch. You never wanted to marry me or have a family, so why couldn’t you let me go and find it with someone who does? You fucking ruined my marriage!”

He bellowed the last part, slamming two hands around her neck, squeezing hard enough to make her eyes bulge. 

Ichika struggled, gasping for breath, her fingernails stabbing into his arms. 

“Tell me where is she,” Shuji sobbed, not a shred of composure left in his body. He had fully given himself into the dark impulses that flashed in his mind—completely hellbent on destroying the woman who took everything from him. “You could’ve lived happily with the money my gifts gave you. You could’ve—fuck, shut up! Stop fucking crying! You don’t deserve to cry. You don’t deserve to fucking cry like you’re a victim here.”

Her mouth fell open, gaping wide, shrieks reduced to reedy, clattering breaths. 

“So, where is she!” Shuji shook her hard enough for her teeth to clatter together. “What did you do to my wife?” 

For one split second, Shuji was sure Ichika was possessed by a being not from this earth. Her eyes gained a startling lucidity and she stopped struggling, blue in the face, but her words resounded clearly as if she spoke it in his mind.

“It was you who destroyed everything you held dear.”

The light dimmed from her eyes, every last force of her life used to spit those words in his face. Ichika, the woman he once loved, whose soul he cherished as a mockery of his own, went limp in his arms, her mouth lax and tongue lolling out, chin wet with spittle and the explanation she could never give before he killed her.

He killed her. 

Shuji let go of her body like he had been scalded, her lifeless form thudding to the ground, heavy like a sack of potatoes falling.

“Fuck—no, no, no.” He gasped, reaching back for her lifeless form, shaking her lightly. “Ichika? Hey, come on. No, don’t do this. Don’t—”

It was useless for him to beg. She would not hear.

He stifled a sob and set her back down, cradling her limp head like it was a broken bird’s neck. Shuji tried for a pulse but could not find it, and he hiccuped back a keen, stepping away from the body. 

There was nothing else he could do. Nothing else but give an anonymous tip to the police, hoping they would arrive soon. His dead mistress’s silver ring glinted in his periphery and he quickly snatched it up, not leaving a trace behind. 

He ducked his head low, steering clear of CCTV’s and crossing one unblinking camera down the hall. The same one he had disabled the day he crawled into her shitty apartment to fuck her on her pink satin sheets.

I’m a dangerous man, doll—no one can know I’m doing this with you.

No dash cams were around as far as his eye could see; though the sun burned hotly on the back of his neck, reminding him that even if there were no earthly spectators, his dark misdeeds could never be hidden from a celestial sight.

Shuji cursed under his breath , quickening his pace when he heard the first wails of an ambulance siren in the distance. He pulled out of her apartment compound the exact second a screeching police car drove in, narrowly catching him right at the scene. 

He adjusted his glasses, hightailing it out of here before they could connect her heinous death to his name. His glove-clad hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he did not ease up until he arrived back into the penthouse, shaking and itching for a drink.

Discarding his gloves into the sink, he reached for the whiskey cabinet, sloppily pouring himself a glass and knocking it back frantically. 

Though there was no blood on his hands, he could not shake off the pressing itch that he was drenched in his ex-mistress’ gore.

Ichika’s face flashed in his mind; her beautiful features falling flat in death, her words shaking him to the core.

It was you who destroyed everything you held dear.

It was you who destroyed everything you held dear.

It was you who destroyed everything you held dear.

Shuji threw the expensive glass across the room, watching as it shattered, the broken shards that caught the light of the dying sun mimicking the tears glinting down his cheeks. 

She’s right—I truly am the Reaper… everything I touch dies.

a/n: reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!!

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

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘻𝘦𝘯'𝘪𝘯. 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗻!𝗻𝗮𝗼𝘆𝗮𝘇𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08━━ 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗼3.

⠀𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳. 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.♡ 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙡𝙪𝙨 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔. 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝘿𝙉𝙄.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - 𝘯𝘢𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯–𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀! 𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹.

Dinner with the Zen'ins' did not go as planned. You were under the impression that you would be meeting with a kind, loving, and prestigious man, and he's the complete opposite. On top of that, his family is insane. Did your parents do any type of research when pairing you with Naoya? Or were they thinking about you financially in the long run? Either way, no amount of money is worth your sanity. They all hate each other. Why would you want to marry into a family like that? 

Naoya is a very attractive man. Had he not opened his mouth, maybe you would consider giving this a chance. However, even how he was speaking to his father and uncle made your skin crawl. Perhaps his behavior was warranted. To your understanding, they initiated the cattiness with him. Had your parents spoken to you in such a manner, you probably would've reacted the same after shedding a few tears. It makes you wonder what happened to this family that made them despise each other this way? What your gut was telling you proved to be correct. The Zen'ins' were very broken. 

After leaving the dinner table, you made your way outside to figure out how you were going to leave. Times like this made you wish you rode separately in your own car. Maybe text your best friend to come to pick you up? No. Knowing him, he's probably having sex with some random he met at the club. You were annoyed and pissed. If it takes you walking to the gate and calling an Uber, so be it. But just when you were about to foot it to the front, you felt a tug on your arm. 

“What’s the rush, doll face? Leaving so soon?”  

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want?” 

“Is it wrong for me to check on my soon-to-be wife?” Naoya snickered. 

“More like, not-to-be wife. The arrangement is not happening.” 

“Says who?” 

“Says me. Who else?” 

“Did my family and I already scare you away?” 

"Look. No one is scared of you or your weird ass family. I just like my energy to be protected, and I don't need that type of shit around me. Got it?" 

He steps closer to you. “My, my. You certainly are different from the rest.” 

You raised your brow. “Different how? What are you talking about?” 

"This isn't the first time I've had an arranged marriage. All the others have failed miserably. My family is trying their absolute hardest to find me a competent woman to bear my children. They feel as if I'm last their last hope to keep the family name strong and running." 

"You want kids just to make your family proud? That's not a good enough reason to have children, nor is it okay. Children are not robots, nor are they not objects to "keep the family running." They're individuals and have feelings just like you and I," you explained. "And last time I checked, you said you don't care about what your family thinks. So, tell me why you're agreeing to this again?" 

Silence. All Naoya could do was purse his lips as his jaw clenched. “...” 

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. Now, if you would excuse m-” 

"Wait —[Y/N]," he flustered while tugging your arm. 

“You know you could get my attention without grabbing me, right?” 

“My apologies.” 

“So?” 

“How are you getting home?” 

“I’ll find a way.” 

“I can take you, or perhaps I’ll have my driver escort you?” 

You hummed. “Your driver will be fine.” 

“Excellent. Allow me a moment to give him a call.”  

While Naoya was on the phone with his driver, you wondered why is he being so nice to you? It's not like he was being rude before. It's just he acted as if he didn't have any etiquette. As you were telling him off earlier, the look in his eyes seemed as if he agreed with everything you were saying. Maybe his snooty attitude was just a cry for help? Sometimes, a child's mental health can start with their parents, so it might be the case for Naoya.   

“The driver will be here shortly.” 

“Thanks—you know you didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been okay.” 

"Well, it's the least I can do. My family and I didn't provide you the best hospitality, now did we?" 

“You’re definitely right about that.” 

“Though, I would rather be the one to take you home.” 

“Why? So you can take me to some hotel and fuck me?” 

He gave you a coy smirk. “I don’t think that’s a bad idea. Deny it all you want, pretty. The looks we were exchanging at the dinner table were similar. You want me just as much as I want you, no?” 

Your eyes danced across his face. You were close enough to study his features under the moonlight. His lips were this perfect shade of pink. Nice and plump, you note. If you didn't know any better, he took proper care of his skin. Pale but silky. His aroma. His fucking aroma. He smelled so sensual. The cologne he had on was woody with hints of saffron and thyme. The way he grabbed you with those soft yet firm hands... Maybe he could be a good fuck after all? 

“Hm. Cocky, are we?” you sassed while gazing at his lips. 

“Ha, you are truly something, [Y/N]. I believe we should give this arranged marriage a chance.” 

“Ugh, you’re still on that?” You turned around to see the driver arriving. You began walking towards the car, and Naoya followed behind to open the door for you. He aided you, ensuring you were nice and comfortable in the backseat. 

"Allow me to take you to dinner. No families. Just you and I." 

You squinted your eyes. “What are you up to, blondie?” 

“Haha, is it wrong for me to want to get to know my soon-to-be wife? Agree to this dinner, and if it goes wrong, we can go our separate ways. If otherwise, hm. ’Til death do us part?” 

“... Just one date. You have one chance, and you better not fuck it up, either. Now, leave me alone. I’m tired and ready to go to bed.” 

“Perfect,” he smirked. “Tanaka, ensure the lovely lady gets home safely... As for you, I'll see you this weekend, doll.” 

“Goodnight, blondie. Thanks for the ride,” you said, waving as the driver pulled off. 

"I suppose I have no chance but to get used to this "blondie." Tch, that woman. She's lucky she's sexy," he uttered to himself. Just as Naoya was about to walk back inside, a thought crossed his mind. "Shit. I didn't get her contact information. Hm, her parents are still here. I'll obtain it from them." 

-- 

It was the following morning after dinner with the Zen'in. You were exhausted and didn't want to get up. However, the sound of your alarm wasn't making it any easier. Thank goodness you didn't do any heavy drinking because you would've indeed called in late. It was seven, and you were set to leave for work at eight forty-five, needing to be there at nine.   

Rather than going home to hear your parents nag at you, you had Naoya's driver take you to your best friend's condo to spend the night. Nights like those were quite common. Especially when the two of you went out together. Thus, he gave you a spare key to his place, and as expected, the moans were pretty clear that he had a woman (or two) in his room. Luckily, he keeps one of his extra rooms for you to sleep in and keep your belongings. You had some work clothes, so you got up and began preparing. 

After taking a shower and putting on your clothes, you went to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast, ensuring it was enough for the two of you. For yourself, you just made breakfast tacos. As for your best friend, you made him the sweetest cinnamon roll french toast. He likes to start his days as energetic as possible, so he always eats sugar first thing in the morning. Isn't that why you eat protein bars? 

Nevertheless, you haven't questioned his eating tendencies since college. If that's what works for him, then, hey. Who were you to judge? 

Speaking of your best friend. 

“[Y/N], you’re here! Good morning. I didn’t even hear you come in last night.” 

"Yeah, because you were too busy having fun, Satoru," you teased. As you said those words, two brunette women walked out of the room, heading toward the kitchen.   

“Oh wow, Gojo. You had your maid make us breakfast? How sweet.” 

You raised your brows. “Maid? Who the fuck? Sato-” 

"Yeah, both of you ladies. Get out. Now. You must be insane to think you would disrespect my best friend, let alone touch my food. Leave," he muttered. Nearly pushing them out the door made you smile that he would always defend you no matter what. Before escorting them out, he shouts one final thing and slams the door. "Don't call me, either. The sex wasn't good!" 

“Haha, harsh.” 

"They should have known better. Anyone I bring home, I tell them not to speak if they see you. That was their own fault," he remarked. "Anyways. Thanks for breakfast, [Y/N]. How was the dinner last night? Is the guy nice?" 

“Do you know a Naoya Zen’in?” 

"What?! It's already bad enough that your parents are arranging a marriage, but with him?! Of all people?!" 

“I’m guessing that’s a yes.” 

“Please tell me you’re not marrying him, [Y/N].” 

"As of now, no. But—I did agree to go on a date with him this weekend. I see why you're reacting that way because his family is off the shits." 

“So, why are you going out with him?” 

“...” 

“You want to fuck him, don’t you?” 

You snorted. “That never came out of my mouth. I actually want to make my family proud for once.” 

“[Y/N]. If you just needed a good fuck for the night, you know you could’ve called me-” 

“’Toru. Save it. You’re my best friend, so you should know that’s never going to happen.” 

“Well, yeah. Still, I think I’m a much better choice than Naoya fucking Zen’in. I’m rich, I treat you well, and I look good. What more could your family want from you?” 

“My family loves you, but I think they know you’re my partner-in-crime. They want me to chill out. Not turn up even more,” you uttered.” 

“Hm, I guess you have a point,” he said while stuffing his face. “Hey, these are so good! How’d you make these?” 

“I’m sure if I told you, you wouldn’t remember. Or even worse. Burn the place down.” 

"I think you should just come and live with me. You have a key to my place, and most of your things are here. So what's stopping you?" 

“Although the proposition sounds nice, I think I’ll pass hearing you bring randoms to have sex with. I like to sleep in peace.” 

“They wouldn’t have to be randoms if you just give us a-” 

“’Toru,” you firmed. 

“Fine.” 

You looked at your phone, seeing it was time to head out. "Alright, I have to go to work now. Are we still on for lunch today?" 

“You know it. I’ll come pick you up.” 

Before leaving, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Ah, thank you. You're the best. I'll see you!" 

“See you!” 

-- 

Work was going by slowly, but you were glad it was one of the slower days. Your job as a receptionist wasn't much. Set appointments. Transfer calls. Answer basic questions. For the little that you did, you got paid pretty well. Maybe it had something to do with the CEO of the law firm being quite fond of you, or maybe because of your college degree. Perhaps both? It didn't matter. It was the first job offer you received once you graduated. Even on busy days, you didn't complain. Being a receptionist wasn't bad, and you were glad to still be here after two years. Though, it made you question at times. 

Why weren't you a therapist? Simple. It's not easy. And knowing you, you want to ensure you did it correctly. The goal was to eventually open up an independent office and provide services for individuals with mental health issues free of charge. You never thought it was okay to have people with needs pay to receive help. That was something part of life that you did not understand, especially in this day in age. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have the funds to pay for their costs. You didn't care about the money. You love helping others, and you don't need to be rewarded financially for it.   

Another reason for it—funds. Since you were planning on opening an independent office, you needed to have enough money. Hence, you were twenty-six, still living at home with your parents. If you wanted to, you could've moved out already. Your parents didn't ask you for bill money which helped your savings tremendously. Yeah, you could do virtual sessions for the time being, but you also wanted your patients to have the option to have face-to-face meetings. So, for the time being, you'll continue working as a receptionist, save money, and prepare for your exam to be licensed this upcoming winter. 

It was about thirty minutes until Satoru would come to pick you up for your lunch date. Before leaving your desk, you always ensured to fit in as many notes and scheduled appointments. For some reason, calls would be nonstop once you went on your hour break (your paid hour, by the way. Something you were able to finesse from your boss). 

As you were finishing up, you received a text message from an unknown number. However, from the way they addressed you, you knew who it was: 

Unknown: “Hey, doll. It’s me. You forgot to give me your contact, but I didn’t mind working hard to obtain it 😉” 

“Working hard?” All he did was ask your parents. Not as if he had to put up a fight for it. Rolling your eyes at his egoistical personality, you decided to be petty. 

You: “Who is this? Is this the guy I fucked the other night? I thought we said one night only.” 

Unknown: “Haha. Comical, doll. You know it’s Naoya.” 

You: “Ahhh, blondie. Hey. What’s up?” 

Unknown: “I figured I get in contact with you to iron out the details for our dinner this weekend. How about we say, Friday at seven?” 

You: “Friday at seven, hmmm. Lemme check my schedule. See if I can pencil you in.” 

Unknown: “I’ll wait.” 

You: “Friday at seven is fine, lol.” 

Unknown: “Excellent. Your parents were kind enough to give me your location, so I’ll be sure to pick you up. See you then, doll 😈. Be sure to save my contact. We don’t need another mishap.” 

Oh, gosh. Can he be any more full of himself? 

As requested, you were sure to save Naoya's number under "blondie." Hopefully, the date goes well. If it does, maybe you just might fuck him to get the sexual tensions out the way. You didn't want to admit to Satoru nor give Naoya the satisfaction of knowing you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You can't lie. He's turned you on in a way. Intoxicating at that. The sensuality in his voice made chills permeate your core. You wouldn't mind being praised (or degraded) by him. His slender fingers would fit perfectly in your aching pussy. It's been a while since you last had sex, and you knew Naoya would be the perfect fuck. 

What didn't help was your wet dream about him last night. He slammed into your walls. Cooing in your ear, saying how well you're taking him. You were whimpering, telling him he's "too big." You have never seen his dick before, but something told you it was the perfect size for you. Fuck, you wanted him to stretch you so badly. You wanted him to coach you through an orgasm, leaving wet kisses along your neck. And to reward him, you would be on your knees, sucking the skin off his di- 

“Miss [Y/N]!” he volumed, breaking you from your thoughts. 

"Huh? Oh, sir. Sorry about that. It's nice seeing you, Mr. Nanami. Is there something I can help you with?" 

“So you didn’t hear anything I asked?” 

“No, I—I’m sorry, sir. Can you repeat that?” 

He clicked his tongue. "How many appointments do we have scheduled for the week?" 

Why is he asking me this? Doesn’t he have a secretary? I swear, he just wants to find a reason to talk to me. Whatever. 

"It looks like we have thirty-five. Eighteen of them are for you." 

"I see. That's a relief. Definitely a break from last week's rush." 

“Haha, yeah. For sure. The calls were crazy last week. I thought I wasn’t going to make it.” 

He shook his head. "It was much. However, I knew you would pull through. You are one of my best associates." 

“I’m just a receptionist. I don’t do much.” 

"Don't try to humble yourself, Miss [Y/N]. You're a fantastic worker. When my secretary was on maternity leave, you did an excellent job filling in for her. I wished you would've stayed in the position." 

Your cheeks flushed at his sudden compliment. “T-Thank you, sir.” 

"You know when we're alone, you can call me Kento." 

“I couldn’t be so informal with you, sir. You are my boss.” 

He leaned in closer to the desk. "We can be more. You know, my invitation is still on the table." 

Your boss was none other than Nanami Kento. One of the best lawyers in the country. He was prominent, from winning cases for celebrity clients to being an eligible bachelor in the streets of Tokyo. You're not surprised. He's rich, handsome, and an utter gentleman. Yet somehow, he was single. Like the curious receptionist you are, you would pry into his love life. His response? "I'm just enjoying life until I find the perfect woman for me." According to him, that woman was you. 

Since he hired you, he had this soft spot for you. Nanami hadn't informed you until five months ago, but you felt how he looked at you, and even the other associates saw it. He wanted you. More than anyone else. In the break room, you would catch him staring at your ass. When he greets you in the morning, he is sure to make small conversation with you. He gives you a raise every six months just because. Also, just recently, giving you paid hour lunches. However, the invitation he speaks of? Taking care of you. 

He thought you were too pretty to be working. Time after time, Nanami would give you the option to quit working, promising to take care of you. He had no one to spend his money on, and he wanted to on a beautiful woman such as yourself. After that first time you accidentally (it wasn't an accident) had sex with him in his office, he couldn't get enough. But like the professional he was, he didn't pester you for more. Though occasionally, similar to times like this, he would flirt. It wasn't so bad to return the energy if he was attractive with money? Might as well. 

You smiled. “You’re quite adamant, sir.” 

"What can I say? My persistence runs high when I see what I want. You are a lovely woman, Miss [Y/N]." 

“Not afraid of someone talking to me this way?” 

“This is my law firm. I believe I can abuse my power once in a while. If that means getting closer to you, then why not?” 

“Hm, charming. Well, if you must know, I’m arr-” 

“Nanamin! For once, keep your hands off, [Y/N].” 

He deeply sighed. “Gojo, of course. I should have known you would be arriving soon.” 

“Yeah, and I catch you here every time. Don’t you have cases to solve?” 

“My cases are perfectly fine,” he retorted. 

“Hi, ‘Toru! You’re here early.” 

"My meeting ended sooner than expected. So figure I'm come get you now. Are you ready?" 

"I am. I'm so fucking hungry. Those breakfast tacos didn't do anything to me. I hope you're taking me somewhere good." 

“When do I not?” 

"Well, last time you took me to a hole in the wall, it wasn't the good kind either." 

"Hey, that wasn't my fault! Choso gave me that suggestion," he argued. 

"I'll be sure to question his food taste the next time I see him. Now, come on," you said while walking around your desk. "Bye, Mr. Nanami. I'll see you later." 

“Of course. Actually, go ahead and take the rest of the day off. It’s slow.” 

“I-” 

“Don’t worry. You will be compensated.” 

You gave him a relieved smile. "Thank you, sir. I'll see you in the morning, then. Email me if you need anything." 

“Enjoy, Miss [Y/N].” 

“What about me, Nanamin?” 

“I don’t care.” 

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙨 -- @dejwrites @poohbea @captaindsina @getosubaru@tojissword@theehcneypot@nova-siims@gardenof-venus@unsatisfiedanddisappointed @pyschopotatomeme

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