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The dark ish that i like 😩😩 This was what i needed to have a happy saturday

life lessons with the haitanis | haitani brothers

haitani brothers x fem!reader ft. sanzu haruchiyo

summary: your boyfriend pushed the haitani brothers just a bit too far this time but instead of going after him, they go after you instead.

warnings: fem!reader, dubcon/noncon (could be read as either imo, probably leans more noncon), faux sympathy dom!ran, mean dom!rindou, noncon cucking, voyeurism, noncon filming, threesome, facefucking, rough sex, manhandling, degredation, choking, gun play, fear play, spitting, overstimulation, humiliation, dumbification, pet names (doll, pretty girl) infidelity, established relationship (sanzu x reader)

notes: @wakasasucker and @touyasghosty thank u for beta-ing n helping hehe

You should have known better. You really, really should have but you had grown complacent with your situation and it was the worst thing you could have done being Sanzu Haruchiyo’s girlfriend. You had forgotten that the people he surrounded himself with weren’t good people, you had grown used to their easy smiles and greetings whenever they saw you hanging around headquarters.

And you knew something was wrong as the two brothers led you away from the event being held in Kokonoi Hajime’s penthouse, down a few halls into where the bedrooms were. They were always smooth and charming, Ran more so than Rindou, but they had upped it to extraordinary levels tonight--hovering around you for most of the party, hands dancing up and down your skin for every little reason, leaning in close to whisper stupid jokes in your ear or make fun of other partygoers.

You had been dumb enough to think in the moment that they were sticking like glue to you because Sanzu was nowhere to be found and Bonten’s associates were slimy and creepy and kept eyeing you in ways that would have had your boyfriend putting a bullet between their eyes.

You should have known better. You should have been more suspicious about your boyfriend’s unannounced disappearance, he always texted you to let you know what was going on but you had believed the Haitanis when they said he would be around later, that he got caught up finishing paperwork for Mikey.

You should’ve known better. Sanzu had told you a million times that the Haitanis were not to be trusted--they always had their own agenda, their own schemes.

“What’s going on?” you asked, swallowing thickly as Ran shot you another disarmingly charming smile, opening the door to one of the bedrooms--Koko’s bedroom, you recognized as Ran pressed his hand flat against your back, nudging you into the room.

“Haitani, what the fuck are you doing?” you heard a familiar voice demand harshly and you turned your head to the side, eyes wide as your gaze fell upon your boyfriend, face bruised and tied to a chair next to Kokonoi’s bed.

“Haru?!” you asked in disbelief, moving to make your way over to your boyfriend but your breath caught when you felt one of the brothers grab your waist, dragging you back toward him. You gasped when your back hit his chest and your ass rubbed up against his crotch, eyes widening when he leaned down, pressing his lips to the skin below your ear before murmuring.

“Relax, doll,” Ran, it was Ran, “Sanzu doesn’t matter right now. Pay attention to us, yeah?”

“Mhm, c’mon, pretty,” Rindou tugged you out of Ran’s hold and you let out a surprised squeak as he manhandled you over to the bed, pushing you to sit down on it.

“Get your fucking hands off of her,” Sanzu spit out more viciously than you’ve ever heard him before--he had always done his best to stay softer-toned and mannered around you. Your gaze darted over to him and you felt very much like a deer being circled by wolves as the Haitanis found their place standing on either side of you, Ran’s fingers trailing across the skin of your jaw while Rindou’s hand found itself entangled in your hair.

“Nah, don’t think we will,” Rindou said.

“Mm, maybe next time you should think twice before antagonizing us, Sanzu,” Ran murmured, kneeling on the bed next to you, nudging the side of your face with his nose, breath hot and dizzying against your skin and you could only stare forward, eyes wide as they met Sanzu’s, overwhelmed and unsure of what to do, fingers trembling in your lap, body stiff.

And Sanzu looked sick, face pale and lips trembling and pressed together tight. Glaring harshly at the Haitanis before turning a softer gaze onto you, jaw clenched.

“Haru-” you began again and Rindou’s grip tightened painfully on your hair, yanking your head back so you were looking up at him. You gasped in pain, tears stinging your eyes.

“Thought we said Sanzu doesn’t matter,” Rindou spit out, “You fuckin’ dumb or something?”

And you could only watch him in shock, reeling from the sudden change in demeanor because while the Haitani’s often enjoyed flustering you on the daily, they had never been mean or so aggressive. Before you could even think of responding to Rindou, Ran’s hand curled around your chin, pulling your face so that you were looking at him.

“C’mon, doll, we’re gonna pretend he’s not even here, alright?”

What-

“Haitani, I’ll put a fucking bullet through your head. Yours and your shithead brother, get-”

Ran clicked his tongue, the warm gaze he had directed toward you cold and flinty as he looked back up at your boyfriend, “I don’t think so,” he said, voice mocking, “after all, the only reason we’re here with your pretty girl is because we’re not allowed to go after you. Mikey’ll kill you and your girl if you come after us.”

Sanzu let out a string of violent curses, thrashing against the restraints, and you were still lost--your parted lips were opening and closing as you tried to find the words to speak. “Ran-” you began but the older Haitani only chuckled, fingers sliding over your lips.

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” Ran cooed, “We’ve had our eyes on you for so long but Sanzu just refused to share. So cruel of him, right?”

Your eyes drifted back toward your boyfriend but Ran’s grip tightened on your jaw painfully, you winced, looking back toward him. He tapped two fingers on your cheek hard, “Pay attention to us, doll,” his voice was no longer light and playful, it was low with warning and had your hair standing on end, you swallowed nervously.

Rindou shifted closer to you from behind, tilting your head to the side so he could press his lips against your neck. You gasped as he trailed hot, wet kisses up your skin to behind your ear, teeth grazing your skin, “Wanna take her first,” Rindou said and Ran let out a long breath, stepping back off the bed, and you watched him unbutton his black dress shirt, revealing the dark tattoos decorating the left side of his chest--your eyes zeroed in on the gun lodged in the waistband of his slacks, previously hidden by his button-up.

“So impatient, Rindou,” Ran chided, letting his dress shirt drop to the floor, pulling the gun from his waistband and clicking off the safety. Your lips trembled as he brought the cool metal to your cheek, tapping it against your skin twice before bringing it under your chin, using it to lift your face so that your eyes met his again. His violet eyes were deceptively friendly as he looked down at you, as if he weren’t holding a loaded gun beneath your chin, tilting his head to the side as if he were trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “Let’s let her decide, yeah? Which of us do you want first, doll?”

You couldn’t even focus on his words with the gun pressed against your skin under your chin, with Rindou’s lips gliding across your skin, they went in one ear and out the other.

“My brother asked you a fuckin’ question, whore,” Rindou pulled away from your neck to snap.

“Ran,” Sanzu spoke up again, voice edging on pleading, “Come on, leave her the fuck out of this.”

Ran tilted his head to the side, directing a lazy gaze toward Sanzu, “Shut up, already,” he said before looking back down at you, raising his eyebrows, “anyway, I think your pretty girl is enjoying this, aren’t you?”

What?

But you didn’t even have time to consider his words before Rindou reached from behind you to roughly spread your legs, hands wrapped around your thighs with a grip so tight that it had you wincing, putting your pretty silk panties on broad display for the three men in the room.

“Look at her,” Ran cooed, “the doll is already drenched and we haven’t even done anything yet. Gonna let us make you feel real good, aren’t you, pretty?”

Tears sprung to your eyes as Rindou bit down just a tad too hard on your skin, undoubtedly drawing blood. A whimper escaped your lips as one of Rindou’s hands slid up your thigh to trace against your panties, fingers rubbing gently against the damp silk, “Bet Sanzu hasn’t been fuckin’ your pretty pussy right, that’s why you’re so wet for us, isn’t it?”

Your lips parted to deny the claim because of course Sanzu fucked you right but Ran raised his eyebrows and your words died on your tongue. A long whine slipped past your lips as Rindou’s fingers dipped underneath the silk of your panties, sliding between your dripping folds--why were you so wet? You shouldn’t be this wet.

His thumb grazed your clit as he sunk two fingers deep inside of you, your head fell back against his shoulder and a soft moan escaped your lips, back arching against his chest. Distantly, you could feel the bed dip in front of you as Ran kneeled on the bed, you could feel the cool metal of his gun gliding down your neck to your chest, tracing along the fabric of the low cut of your dress.

Rindou groaned at the feeling of your cunt sucking his fingers in, “God, you’re s’fuckin tight too. We’re gonna fuck your pretty pussy up so good that our cocks’ll be the only ones that can satisfy you, yeah?”

And you couldn’t even hope to respond as Rindou curled his long fingers inside of you, sucking dark bruises into your neck as he began to fuck his fingers in and out of you. Your mind going numb and dizzy as Ran leans in, the cool metal of his gun still teasing your chest as he pressed his lips against the opposite side of your neck that Rindou was attached to.

This is so wrong, this is so wrong--Haruchiyo is watching, your boyfriend is tied to a fucking chair being forced to watch, you-

You let out a breathy moan as Rindou picked up the pace of his fingers inside of you, eyes nearly rolling back as he hit that sweet spot over and over and over and over again, as Ran’s teeth nicked your skin and his tongue traced pretty patterns against your neck.

You couldn’t think--the brothers’ fingers were everywhere, their tongues were everywhere, searing your skin everywhere they touched, your mind felt muddled and your body felt shaky and-

“God, Sanzu, you’ve been holding out on us,” Rindou murmured into your skin, and a broken moan ripped from your lips as he pressed a third finger into you, your hands shooting up to grab Ran’s shoulders as his lips slid down to your collarbone, teeth scraping and lips sucking at your skin.

It was too much, they were too much, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t-

“Such a pretty doll, aren’t you?” Ran chuckled, pulling back to watch the way your face twisted with pleasure at his brother’s ministrations. He brought his free hand up to cup your face, your eyes fluttered open at the touch and your eyes met his hooded lavender ones, a slow smirk crawling onto his face as he glanced back at a thrashing Sanzu.

Haru-

He was calling your name.

Your face twisted to the side, eyes meeting your boyfriend's pretty blue ones for half a second, barely catching him say, "It'll be okay."

Ran laughed, "It'll be okay," he mocked, "did you hear that, Rindou?"

Rindou scoffed loudly, "We'll see how okay he is when we've got his girl fucked dumb over our cocks."

The hand that Ran had cupping your face tightened into a painful grip, squishing your cheeks together and stopping your head from turning to see your boyfriend. “Pretty, but so fuckin’ disobedient, aren’t you?"

You didn’t even have time to respond because in an instant, Rindou’s fingers were slipping out of you and you couldn’t hold back the embarrassed, pitiful whine that escaped your lips at the loss of his fingers. You gasped as Rindou’s hands grabbed your waist, shifting you forward harshly onto your hands and knees.

Your head spun at the action, eyes wide as your hands hit the mattress. Ran pressed a finger under your chin, tilting your head up so that you were looking at him again, “Gonna fuck your pretty face now, alright?”

And you could only stare at him with parted lips--they moved quick, efficient, you just couldn’t keep up with them, they were moving before you even had time to react and your body was betraying you, instinctively rocking back as Rindou pressed the fat tip of his cock against your entrance, arms trembling and eyes wide and watery as Ran pulled his cock from slacks, tapping his tip against your parted lips, distantly aware of the gun hanging loosely at his side in his free hand.

“Go on, open up,” Ran cooed but you didn’t have to because as soon as the words left his lips, Rindou pushed his cock deep into you, causing you to gasp loudly and fist the sheets beneath you. Ran took the opportunity to grab the back of your head, push your head down on his cock.

Your throat spasmed around him, tears spilling over your eyes as you choked around his length, hands flying to his thighs to try to push your head off of him but Ran’s grip only tightened, pressing you down impossibly further on his cock, nose pressed into his skin. Your nails clawed at his thighs as your head went fuzzy from the lack of air but you couldn’t concentrate on anything between that and the feeling of Rindou stretching you out.

A muffled moan left your lips as Rindou drew his hips back and fucked himself deeper into you--he was big, too big, bigger than anything you had taken before and it burned, it burned, you could feel every inch of him pressed against your walls, stretching you out around him and molding your cunt around his cock.

“Holy fuck,” Rindou groaned behind you, big hands wrapped in a bruising grip around your waist, “bitch is tight as a fuckin’ virgin, you sure you been fuckin’ her, Sanzu?”

“Fuck you,” Sanzu spat out viciously, “Gonna fuckin’ rip your throat out, just wait until I fuckin’ get out of here, Haitani.”

Rindou only laughed at the comment, a laugh that quickly dissolved into a low moan when he felt your cunt tighten up around him, “Fuck, fuck, don’t fuckin’ do that,” he hissed.

And all of their words were just going in one ear out the other, you couldn’t focus on anything except trying not to choke to death on Ran’s cock, except being split right open on Rindou’s. It was too much, it was too much.

Another choked moan was torn from your lips as Rindou started fucking into you at a hard, steady pace--hips snapping against yours so fast that it had your eyes rolling back and your nails ripping bloody lines into Ran’s thighs and your throat spasming and convulsing as each thrust sent Ran’s cock deeper down your throat.

Everything felt too hot, too overwhelming, you could feel every little sensation and it had your vision going spotty, distantly, you could hear Ran and Rindou mocking you and Sanzu.

“Rindou--fuck--get your phone out, wanna-”

“Bitch is so fuckin’ easy, no wonder you’ve kept her around so fuckin’ long, Sanzu, fucks like one of those triple x rated pornstars.”

“Bet your pretty lil whore has never looked like this for you, Sanzu, s’okay, we-”

You couldn’t even catch half of what they were saying between the sound of skin slapping on skin, your choked moans and gags around Ran, Rindou’s cock dragging in and out of your sopping cunt, and what you could hear wasn’t even registering. You could feel one of Rindou’s hands slip from your waist to rub at your clit and you swore your vision went dark--a muffled cry leaving your lips, body spasming in the brothers’ hold, legs tensing and trembling as Rindou so abruptly threw you right over the edge.

“Fuck, holy fuck, fuckin’ squirted all over my fuckin’ pants-”

“Bet she’s never done that for you, Sanzu” Ran laughed loud as Rindou fucked you through your high, hand tightening in your hair to hold you up as your body went limp, rocking his hips against your face, tip nudging the back of your throat harshly with every thrust, his other hand coming to wrap around your throat, squeezing around it to add pressure onto his cock, letting out a loud, shameless moan at the feeling.

You were gonna pass out, you could feel it--your vision was starting to go black and your body felt hot and fuzzy and you couldn’t breathe and Rindou was fucking into you harder, faster, too hard, too fast, pulling your limp form back against him with every snap of his hips, pushing Ran’s cock deeper down your throat as he met his brother’s brutal pace. You had just came but you could already feel another orgasm approaching, legs spasming violently as Rindou flicked and tugged lightly at your clit.

Too much, it was too much.

You sobbed around Ran’s cock, and you could hear another obscene moan pull from his lips, “Shit, shit, ‘m gonna cum,” and it was the only warning you got before Ran was spilling his seed deep down your throat, warm and sticky and too much to swallow, you gagged violently around his cock, heaving as he finally pulled out from your throat, letting go of your head.

Your upper body fell limp to the mattress as you desperately tried to swallow what you could, gasping for the air your body had been so deprived of, sharp cries and piercing moans slipping past your lips as Rindou’s hips stuttered against yours, pace becoming erratic as he chased his own high and fucked you through your second. Distantly, you noticed Ran leaning over you to steal the phone from Rindou, grabbing you by the hair to lift your face from the mattress and put your cum-smeared face into view of the camera.

“Pretty girl, open wide for me, yeah?” and your mouth was already half hanging ajar from the force of Rindou’s hips driving into you so all Ran did was tilt your head back and hover over your face and you whimpered as he gathered a wad of spit in his mouth before letting it drip down into your mouth. “Swallow.”

Your body was working on autopilot as you swallowed the spit as slipped down your throat, vision flashing white and a broken moan tearing from your lips as Rindou’s hips finally stilled against you, jaw slack as you felt him finish deep, deep inside you, stuffing you full of his cum, so full that even as his cock slipped out of you, his cum was leaking out onto the bed beneath you.

You fell limp against the bed, chest rising and falling erratically as you tried to recover from your high, body twitching and spasming and shaking as you tried to lift yourself off of the mattress.

Fuck, fuck, what-

Ran cupped your face, “You look so much prettier as our lil cumdump than as Sanzu’s girlfriend, doll,” he cooed and your hazy vision lifted to meet his as he rose to his feet, tucking himself back in his pants and picking up his discarded gun and dress shirt.

“How the fuck am I supposed to go back out there like this?” Rindou complained, motioning down to his cum stained dress-pants and Ran only laughed at him before his smile fell and his gaze turned toward Sanzu, cold and unfriendly.

“Take this as a lesson, yeah? Stop fucking around with us, next time we might decide to keep her.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Sanzu rasped, voice hoarse, “I’m gonna-”

“No, you’re not,” Rindou cut him off, expression bored and unamused.

“No, he’s not,” Ran confirmed, a sly smile creeping on his lips, “see you at tomorrow’s meeting, Sanzu.”

---

taglist: @touyasghosty @kennyb0y @wakasasucker @portfolio-of-dreams @sano-obsessed @devinsdaydreams @rxmera @manjiroscum @sugusshi @haitanihime @adeptiixiao @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @crackheadwithtoes @zuuki @hanmascult @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @hollypastl @kazufuyusluv @imkumichan @meena-in-a-nutshell @aces-high @obsessiontoanime @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @marism @prettyiolanthe @whydohumansss @rinsie @blvebcrry @r-xochitl @chaoticwh0re @chifuyuslilkitten @shigsprincess @lundabean @crown5 @savagemickey03 @keijisprettygirl @novaresque @kuroolv @shizunxie

i just think… haitani rindou has squishy, mochi cheeks. don’t ask me why but i just know they’re soft and squishy that ran would always annoy the heck out of rin by pinching and pulling it whenever he’s bored cause they’re irresistible and a great stress reliever ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

Seguir leyendo

Could I please have age gap or breast worship with shinichiro? 💜💜💜💜

of course love! <3 that man is so deprived, he’d jump on a pair of tits if he could.

shinichiro x fem! reader. 18+ mdni!

cw. breast worship, boobjob? blowjob, implied maybe nursing kink? also implied breeding kink

his favorite part of your body is probably your breasts. they’re so soft and squishy. he loves holding them with you on his lap, your back to his chest, or when he’s spooning you in bed, hands massaging your doughy tits before he’s drifting off to sleep.

he also likes sucking on your pretty nipples, soft suckles and tongue circles or a little bite with his teeth that has you mewling. “milk won’t come out shin.” maybe he should knock you up and get you pregnant, fill you to the brim with his cum, so he can taste the sweet milk that’ll come out of your lactating tits. he’s dreamed a family life with you many times before.

but his favorite thing about your tits is how they nicely snuggle his dick between them. “holy fuck.” you suggested this to him one night as a new way to get him off because he’d usually lay his head down on your lap and suck on your nipples, stroking his dick and you combing through his hair, whenever he want to cum to your breasts. but this? this feels even better than usual.

his dick is being pillowed by your soft tits, tongue suckling on his sensitive head. he’s kneeled on top of you, lightly sitting on your stomach so he doesn’t put too much of his weight down. he groans and buckles his hips up at a particular hard suck, pushing his dick a few centimeters more into your warm mouth.

“open your mouth for me angel. with your tongue out and keep it open.” he starts thrusting into your tits, the soft slide of his tip rubbing against your tongue feeling even better than he thought that it has him shivering. “shit. this feels good baby.” he goes faster, his tip touching the roof of your mouth at each thrust.

then you lift your head a little to follow after his dick, vacuuming his head. shit, that has him cumming in seconds. his toes curl and his stomach clenches as his balls tighten, dick twitching at every spurt of cum. you swallow every drop, suckling gently on the tip.

send me a # and i’ll write a drabble!

haitani ran x fem!reader

warnings: gun play, exhibitionism, degradation/humiliation, facefucking, thigh riding, jealous/mean dom!ran, slight manhandling, rough sex, petnames (pretty, princess), unedited written on my phone at 3 am last night

thinking about pissing ran off during a bonten meeting—he always brings you along and usually it goes on without a hitch. You sit pretty in his lap, leaning back against his chest—sometimes warming his cock, sometimes just scrolling on your phone—but this time something went wrong. you fucked up, and you weren’t sure how, but you knew you did from the grip ran had on your waist, so tight it almost hurt.

maybe you had smiled too prettily when sanzu haruchiyo said hi to you, or maybe you giggled too much at one of rindou’s snide comments, but whatever it was, it set ran off and it had you on edge, because it took a lot to set off haitani ran and once he was set off, there was no going back.

you sat anxious the whole meeting, his fingers burying bruises into the skin of your hips as takeomi rattled on about weapon shipments; his voice icy and sharp when kokonoi began questioning him about income loss in roppongi.

and you could only sit there, lips pressed together in a thin line, fingers curling in your lap.

and when the meeting ended, and you tried to move to leave, he only clicked his tongue, “and where do you think you’re going, doll?” he said and you hesitated, not saying anything as you shifted back into his lap.

rindou was the last to leave the room. his eyes met yours briefly, shooting you a knowing look that you did not appreciate before he walked through the door and left you and ran alone.

“ran,” your voice wavered and just as you were about to continue, ran was standing up, shoving you to your feet and then to your knees.

you looked up at him, eyes wide; he stared down at you, lavender eyes cold. you watched as he shifted his dress shirt out of the way, and you watched as he pulled his handgun out of the holster on his side.

your mouth went dry.

“ran-“

“shut the fuck up,” your mouth closed immediately, you winced as ran grabbed the back of your head harshly, tilting it up, “think you can whore yourself out to all my colleagues, do you?”

“no, i-“

“i said shut your fucking mouth,” he spit out and your breath caught, “or better yet, keep it wide fuckin’ open for me, yeah?”

your lips parted to ask what he was talking about and your eyes widened as his grip tightened in your hair and he brought his gun toward your face, pointedly flicking off the safety before shoving the barrel through your parted lips.

you choked at the intrusion, gagged at the taste of metal on your tongue, eyes tearing up as you looked up at your boyfriend—blurry gaze barely able to make out his face above you.

“go on,” he said, “suck it like it’s my cock and i’ll consider not pulling the trigger.”

your mind went blank.

pulling the trigger?

“you dumb or somethin’?” ran demanded, “need some help getting started, fine.”

he tugged painfully at your hair and you gasped in pain around the gun, craning your head back at an awkward angle to shove his gun further down your throat, pulling it out only to drive it back in right away.

tears streamed down your face, your throat burned and ached, you could barely fucking breathe. the gun clanged against your teeth, echoing through your skull. you sobbed around the barrel of the gun, chest heaving as your boyfriend fucked your throat with his gun.

“look at you,” he cooed, and the cold look in his eyes disappeared, melting into one of sick glee as he watched you struggle to take his gun down your throat, “my pretty lil whore, aren’t you?”

you choked, struggling to nod around the gun, desperately trying to breathe through your nose. ran only laughed at you, letting go of your hair and pulling the gun from your lips, letting you drop limp to the floor, heaving and gasping for breath.

you barely had time to fill your lungs back up with air before ran’s big hand curled around your bicep, yanking you into your feet and into his lap as he sat back down in his chair, positioning you so that you were straddling one of his thighs.

he pressed his gun to your ribcage.

you watched him with blurry eyes, sure that your makeup was smeared and you looked a mess but ran only smiled thinly at you, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek gently, running his thumb over your lips. the touch was so soft it nearly made you forget about the loaded gun pressed deep into your side.

“go on, pretty, get yourself off on my thigh n maybe i’ll let you ride my cock after,” he said and you whimpered, swallowing thickly. ran bounced his knee in irritation and you gasped as he ground his leg lightly against your clit.

your hands flew to your boyfriend’s shoulders, nails digging through the silk of his dress shirt into his skin as you rolled your hips against his thigh, a long whine escaping your lips at the much needed pressure against your cunt.

oh god, why were you so wet already?

“god, look at you, fuckin drenched just from me fucking your face with my gun, yeah? already makin a mess all over my pants. you’re fucked up, princess, who gets turned on by gettin’ face fucked by a loaded gun?” ran laughed, but his voice was breathless and his eyes were lidded and dark as he leaned back in his chair, watching you rock your hips against his thigh, eyes fluttering shut as you picked up the pace, losing yourself to the steadily building pleasure.

and maybe you should’ve been embarrassed, you distantly realized that as your juices stained ran’s expensive dress pants, as you fucked yourself on his thigh like a bitch in heat, moaning and gasping his name, eyes half rolled back.

“they can all see us, y’know?” his words went in one ear out the other, his gun traced up your body to the bottom of your chin, shifting to turn your face to the side. your glassy eyes focused on a camera in the corner of the room, “no doubt sanzu and rindou are in there watching. maybe some of the others”

“oh god, oh god, oh god, ran ‘m so close, ‘m s’close,” your voice was half a slur as you cried out the words, nails clawing at him through his shirt.

ran didn’t say anything, instead watching raptly, bouncing his leg in time with the rocks of your hips, one hand coming to grab your waist and steady you as your vision went white, hips stuttering against his thigh as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, staining his dark pants with your cum.

you shook on top of him, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you slumped forward, vision spotty and body on fire. but ran didn’t give you any time to recover, he was standing in an instant, twisting your body around to bend you over the conference table, flipping your skirt up and unbuttoning his slacks in two swift motions.

you gasped at the sudden movement, moving to brace your palms against the table but ran was faster, again, one hand shooting out to capture your wrists with one hand, pinning them to the small of your back so you couldn’t move while his other brought his gun to the back of your head, hyper aware of the cool tip of the barrel pressed to your skull.

“ran, ran, ran,” you cried as the fat tip of his cock nudged against the entrance of your cunt, body spasming as it slipped against the slick, grinding against your clit, “i ca-“

“say ‘i can’t’ and i’ll pull the trigger and find a better whore,” ran’s voice was sharp and cruel and you sobbed at his words even though you knew damn well he would never, but in your pleasure hazed mind you couldn’t quite remember that.

he didn’t wait for a response as he pushed his cock into you without warning. your eyes rolled back and a string of helpless babbles slipped past your lips as his big cock stretched your sensitive cunt, tip buried deep inside of you. your hands strained against his wrists, his grip tightened, he pressed the gun harder against your skull.

“oh god,” you let out another broken moan, torn between pushing your hips back and fucking yourself on his cock and trying to move away, body overstimulated from your last orgasm, “ohgodohgodohgod-“

ran drew his hips back and snapped them back into you without warning and you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe—he was too big, too long, too thick and he wasn’t giving you time to adjust.

a shameless moan left his lips and fire spread through your body again, pooling in your gut as he fucked himself deep into your cunt because there was no prettier sound in this world than haitani ran’s moans, that you were sure of.

“takin’ me so good, pretty,” he groaned, “‘lways take me so fuckin’ good.”

you could feel every inch of his cock dragging against your walls and the pleasure was building too fast, your legs were tensing and shaking and your body was trembling and the moans spilling past your lips were so loud that you were sure the whole building could hear you.

“c-cu-“ you tried to warn ran that you were about to cum but you couldn’t even get the word out before your second orgasm hit you and you were sure, you were sure that you had blacked out for a second—jaw going slack as ran fucked you through your orgasm, cock bruising your cunt as he drove himself into you deeper and deeper and deeper.

he let out another obscene moan when he felt your cunt tighten around his cock, “holy fuck,” he gasped and you whimpered when you felt his hips stutter against yours, spilling is cum deep, deep inside of you.

he let go of your wrists and your arms fell limp at your side, you laid on the conference table, gasping for breath and shaking as he pushed off of your, tucking himself back into his pants and flicking the safety back on his gun, putting it back in its holster.

he flipped your skirt back down and his big hands wrapped around your waist, lifting you onto your feet. unsteady, you stumbled into his chest but he only chuckled, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead.

“c’mon,” he said, a look in his eyes that you didn’t quite appreciate as he led you to the door, “gunna parade you around base with my cum dripping out of you so everyone knows just who you belong to.”

your last dime // k. nahoya

notes. i don’t have a daddy kink but some characters…… oh and this ended up being a little soft. iffy about the smut but what else is new

wc. 6.7k

cw. fem! sushi chef! reader. one sided rivalry, one-sided pining, light bickering, rough sex, finger sucking, semi-public sex, daddy kink, degradation, condescending praise. descriptions of food. bitch used as degradation

summary. you hate nahoya with a passion and he has no idea why. you both were agreeable when you first met, but then you started ignoring him, which is a shame because he thinks you’re pretty

tagging. @touyasghosty thank you for hosting such a sexy collab! ‘m smooching your brain <3 @kazuwhora @ryuugot @bxnten thank you for beta reading <333 @messxworld @tokyoredlightdistrict & @shibuyawardnetwork

Nahoya doesn’t know what stick is up your ass, but you can be annoying as fuck and bitchy. He hasn’t even known you long enough to receive this loathing you have over him.

You moved into the old leasing space next to their shop two weeks ago. Him and Souya brought a welcome basket and introduced themselves. The both of you had an okay meeting, a handshake and pleasantries were exchanged, and nothing grating could have happened to rub you the wrong way, but somehow something did, and Nahoya has no idea what that is.

Every time your eyes land on his pink curls, they twitch. A glance at his curved lids, and your jaw locks. His smile causes a set of brows to knit together and crease. His heavier footsteps compared to Souya’s careful gait makes your shoulders tense. You hear him laugh and your eyes narrow into slits. You look at him like he’s a pile of dirty dishes and he fucking hates it.

But you only treat him this way.

Not Souya. No, never Souya. He gets none of your fury. He gets treated like an angel instead. Charming smile, cute teeth, twinkling eyes, and an even sweeter tone of voice that slides out of your throat like honey when you greet him.

While Nahoya gets your cold, aloof back, left out of the conversation like a third wheel, standing stupidly behind Souya as the both of you have delightful chatter and he stares longingly at you.

Nahoya didn’t hate you at first. He thought you were cute even. Heavy lashes that fluttered gently, soft, pink lips that rose to a lovely smile, bright eyes that looked at him so clearly he got lost in them for a second before the dulcet chime of his name snapped him out of his reverie and made his heart skip a beat.

You looked like Aphrodite incarnate. But you turned into Medusa in a matter of time and cast your hate on him as if he were Poseidon, and Nahoya truly has no idea why.

As he gazes at your glowing form, eyes that were once kind to him directed at his brother now, a giggle bubbling in your chest that makes your body tremor, his finger on the front counter taps into the wood faster, more harshly.

Nahoya decides that he won’t get held up by you anymore. If that’s how you wanna play, then fine. He’ll join your little game.

You’re dead to him too.

—

Well that was the plan at least.

It’s ironic, funny, and a little annoying all in one how the universe decides to spite him. The both of you are in a room stock full of ingredients. He came here to take storage, and you were asked by Souya to get him some more onions.

It would be laughable. If only the door didn’t slam shut with just a slight breeze of the wind. If only the click of the lock didn’t echo in the empty space and alarm you both. The old wood is too weak to hold itself open, and the knob doesn’t turn as it should. That was something Souya has been nagging him to look into, and he’s paying for his negligence here.

How fucking hilarious.

Nahoya can’t help the little snicker that leaves his mouth, and you whip your head to him, zooming in on that insufferable grin. “Don’t fuckin’ chuckle. This is your fault. Souya said the storage room door needed to be fixed, but you’ve been sitting on your ass. Not doing a damn thing.”

It’s always ‘Souya this, Souya that.’ Nahoya really can’t stop the chuckles that break from his chest.

“Take some fucking responsibility for your actions!”

Shaking his head and wiping some tears from the corner of his eyes, Nahoya calmly tells you, “Relax. Screaming won’t do any good if we’re still stuck in here, doll.”

Your teeth grind at the pet name, and you don’t listen, you just want more time to lash out.

You turn, walking up to him, steps heavy the closer you get until you’re finally in his face. A sharp, pointed finger pokes at his chest with each word that leaves your mouth.

“And I said, that this was your fault. We wouldn’t be in here, or trapped for that matter, if you actually fixed the damn door.” The glare you throw at him is vicious, eyebrows knit together, lids narrowed and sharp as a cat’s.

There’s a fire burning in your eyes that makes dark, dark pupils glow. Nahoya can see himself in them again just like at your first encounter, and it’s been so long since he was able to glance into your eyes head-on like this—it’s been so long since he’s had your undivided attention—that his stomach churns and his heart quickens.

He’s always found you, even more so your eyes, pretty. They’re genuine, clear, attentive to whoever's caught their fancy.

Then you raise your head higher, and they catch onto the light. It makes your irises shine and glaze over in a way that reminds Nahoya of freshly painted pottery pieces fresh out of a kiln.

“What?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion, brows lowering in that endearing way people do when they are utterly clueless, and your eyes soften, glaze over a touch more.

The gesture is so cute that Nahoya’s stomach bubbles over with arousal, and his pants are starting to feel a little tight.

He opens his mouth to talk, but you sigh and cross your arms over your chest. “Well?” and his mouth doesn’t move again because your forearms are pushing your soft tits up.

Instead he gulps the pool of saliva in his mouth like a lesser man, and his eyes trail up from your chest until it lands on your soft, glossy lips that are in a pout already.

Shit, he wants to kiss you.

Your eyes scrunch more when you realize he isn’t looking at you anymore. No, his eyes are too low, and there’s a hazy sheen to them that makes goosebumps trickle along your skin.

What is he looking at? Do you have something on your face? Your mouth? Your cheeks?

In the next few seconds, his eyes dart up to yours and a shiver wracks your spine. Their intensity makes you feel small. So, so small and meek. As if you aren’t around the same height anymore, like he’s towering over you—as if you’re being hunted.

He looks like he wants something.

Why does it feel like he’s on the verge of taking it whether you like it or not, that you have to coil your muscles and put your guard up?

His hand slowly moves. It brushes your cheek, and you’re so surprised by the motion that you flinch back, but his hand stops right there.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want to.” It stays frozen, his voice a low, calm rumble.

You consider the current state of things. Nahoya’s shift in demeanor, the growing tension between you two that’s starting to make your stomach tingle, and the thick air hanging heavy in the room. It spreads to every nook and cranny, and invades your mind.

Nahoya inches closer before he’s back to brushing against your cheek, finally cupping it. You move in, transfixed by the gentle hold of his hand. It’s so faint, so warm that your heart races and your breathing slows with the serene touch. When you inhale, a whiff of crisp cologne invades your senses, and it’s addicting how nice it smells. You feel a little hazy as Nahoya traces his thumb over your lips, the gloss smudges a little around the plump edges.

Then he moves that same hand to the back of your head and pulls you in, slowly still.

Your lips touch softly, and a buzz starts at your mouth and travels throughout your body, raking down your fingers and toes, traveling through bones and tissue.

The thing about kissing Nahoya is that he’s not gentle at all, despite the soft way he reeled you in. He bumps his mouth against yours, sucks your tongue, bites your lips, and traces his tongue around for pleasure. Completely rough and wanton, and he fights for dominance. His tongue is merciless as he tastes all of you, like he can’t get enough. The pink muscle licks and prods over the same areas over and over again, his hand tilts your head slightly to get more access, to get down your throat.

Now there’s a fog entering your mind, making it fuzzy, and you completely forget your argument earlier as your legs grow weak.

It gets thrown out the window when his other hand traces down your back and squeezes at your ass. A tiny moan squeaks out of your mouth and your hands grip onto his work uniform. The hand behind your head moves lower when he feels your kiss get rougher. Jackpot.

They’re both playing with the supple flesh of your ass as you keen into his mouth. It feels so good, it’s starting to be the only thing you care about right now.

More. You want more, and Nahoya gives you exactly that as his knee presses between your legs.

They wobble when his hands move to your hips to slide them against his thigh, and the friction is so heavenly, your clit rubs against your panties from under your skirt, the gush of your slick so loud and sloppy that Nahoya groans and you buck your hips, cumming within the next few seconds.

The hands on his shirt claw into the rustling fabric, and he feels you shake, feels your pussy flutter even through the thin barrier of your panties as his pants get soaked in your juices.

“Fuck, doll.” His pant leg is soaked to the calf. He lets your mouth go to see you lean back and pant heavy breaths of air leaving your swollen, red lips.

You look really good right now, eyebrows knit, hazy eyes, shaky legs, heaving chest, panties a slippery mess, and Nahoya’s dick twitches imagining how it’d feel to sink his dick into your gummy walls—to see you creaming on him.

But first, he wants to feel your little hole wrapped around his fingers.

Bringing his hand down to your panties, he pushes them down, sliding two digits into your pulsing, squelchy hole, you start to squirm right away. Especially when he pushes the flat of his palm right against your sensitive nub so it rubs the tiny thing while he swirls his fingers.

“You’re a mess down here.” He hums.

You tremble and lean forwards, hands clawing at his wrist as you sob, “Nahoya, it‘s sensitive. ‘s too soon.” But all you do is push him closer to your sweet spot this way, and when his fingers get there, he grinds them against you, scraping your walls with the nubs of his fingertips.

Your pussy drools sticky cum, throbbing again. He knows you’re close, but he slides them out and steps back. With shaky legs, you gaze up at him full of want, disappointment. Confused on why he stopped.

His hands fumble with his pants, and your eyes bulge out of their sockets. You gape when his fat dick springs out, oozing a string of precum down the shaft.

Fuck he’s big.

He aligns the fat mushroom tip against your small hole, it flutters against the large, blunt head. His precum beads against your soft, pink folds.

“Nahoya, ‘s not gonna fit.” You’re whining, but your hands grasp his length, eager to test his girth, test how thick he is towards the base that both of your hands can’t fit around; your walls pulse at the discovery.

“I’ll just do the tip. Promise.”

Your lips purse for a second before you remove your hands. “Okay.”

He rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb as a little reward and you keen. He finally pushes in. The stretch is a little painful at first, but the drag of his cock against your velvety walls makes your toes curl, and Nahoya’s thumb still rubbing circles into your clit makes your hips buck.

“Nahoya, put it in. I want the whole thing.” He twitches at your words and groans, but he obliges. God, you’re so fucking greedy already. Slowly, he makes his way inside, one centimeter at a time.

By the halfway mark, your juices froth and bubble around the edges of his shaft, and his thumb rubs faster. The band of pleasure in your tummy is getting tighter, makes your cunt tingle and pulse.

Nahoya’s stomach is getting tight with pleasure too and his dick is twitching a fast tempo. You feel so warm and mushy, walls trapping and sucking his cock.

He can’t help how he pushes more of his shaft into soft, velvety walls. His dick feels like it’s gonna melt, and his head nearly lolls at the heavenly feeling of your cunt, pillowy folds parting for him.

“Wait. Nahoya. Wait. Wait wait wa-”

The knob starts to rattle, and you both freeze.

“Huh? Must be locked again.” A knock echoes through the room. “Is anyone inside?”

“Souya!”

The knob rattles harder and his voice sounds closer. “Were you in here this whole time? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Yeah, the door closed on us.”

“Us?”

“Nahoya’s in here too.”

“He is? Okay hang tight. I’m getting the keys.” Souya’s footsteps fade off.

Nahoya’s dick twitches. He wants to keep going despite the lack of time and Souya being on his way to finding you two like this.

He promises that he can get you to cum once, maybe twice before Souya’s back. It doesn't even matter to him if he cums, he just wants to feel your gummy walls clamp on him, feel you cream on his cock, sticky juices oozing out of your twitchy hole.

And he can do all of that for you, he just needs to ram his dick in, the full length of it, tilt his hips and swivel them around so it hits all of your sweet spots, and rub your clit for good measure.

If he doesn’t stop the first time you cum, he promises he can make you cum a second time within seconds, and make you squirt.

He can make you feel so good, if you just let him.

His heart races, dick pulsing madly in your cunt, stomach drawing taut with pleasure at the image of you creaming all over his cock. Eyes rolled back, mouth parted open to expose your pink tongue sticking out, and most of all, your pretty pussy oozing out milky cum down his shaft while transparent slick gushes onto his stomach.

Shit, the image alone is enough to make him cum. But you push him back and out of you, and Nahoya’s stomach plummets straight into a dark void.

You fix and tidy yourself up the best you can, which is remarkable because you actually look like you weren’t just fucking. Dusting off your shirt and skirt, pulling your panties back up, moving strands of your hair back to its original place, and rubbing your lips together to set your lip gloss again. Then you turn your gaze on him, cock hard, twitching and exposed as he stands there stupidly gaping at you.

It’s cold again, your eyes are narrowed into slits, and they’re dull with indifference. How can someone’s arousal, desire, emotions just flip like that?

“You should hide that or take care of it. Souya will be back soon.”

Nahoya shuts his mouth, lips folding over in discontent for a second before he’s hurriedly pulling up his pants and boxers until they’re on again, dick tucked into his waistband because it’s not settling down.

His lips move—

“Okay! I got them. Just give me a second.” But Souya comes barreling into the door and it rattles again as he fiddles with the lock.

You move right up to the frame and wait.

Within seconds, light shines in the dim room and the door creaks open. Opening up your arms, you hug Souya and slump your body on his, breathing out a sigh.

He looks a little confused as he rubs your back. “What were you both doing in here?”

You don’t give him an answer, pulling back and grasping his hand.

“…Huh?” you walk out with him in tow, and by the swish of your skirt does Nahoya see your sticky slick plastered between your thighs.

It still runs when you turn the corner, and the sight has Nahoya’s dick throbbing and his stomach burning, but his heart is icy and a little dull.

He gets left behind once again.

And see, from that day on, you have been running through his mind like a fucking pop song.

Nahoya tries to get on your good side, tries to understand why you hate him in the first place. He really does, but you don’t make it any easier.

Now, when he puts in effort, you ignore him more strongly. You don’t even spare him a glance or acknowledge his presence when he’s in the room.

When he comes over, you busy yourself with the customers, or practice your knife skills and prepare your lunch or dinner menu. Whenever you come over, you head straight for Souya, even when Nahoya greets you at the front.

It stings a little having you completely ignore him. He thought you got a little closer in the storage room, but no, things went back to the way they were earlier, but worse.

It’s almost like that incident didn’t even happen in the first place.

And despite all of that, he hates that he can’t hate you. He hates that he can’t get you out of his mind. He hates that he’s the only one hung up on your relationship, trying to make it better so you can go back to being on speaking terms.

He still gets hard when he thinks about that day, and his heart still beats furiously in his chest when he sees you. Especially when you’re focused on preparing your menu, or sharpening your sushi and sashimi knives.

The way you so elegantly handle them, or the poise that you have when you arrange your sushi platters.

Just like now.

He came over to talk, only to get ignored again, so he took a seat at your sushi bar to watch you prepare. This has become his new favorite interest now. When he watches you, he can tell you love doing this, your job.

Experienced hands quickly slide your knives, each and every one of them, against the knife sharpener. The shiing of metal against metal echoes in the quiet restaurant, and there’s a beautiful, shiny glint to your knives.

You must clean them really well.

Knives are easy to rust and dull after some use, Nahoya knows first hand. Restaurants depend on their kitchen and utensils. If a chef doesn’t take good care of their instruments, then they’re not an actual one in the first place. Chefs who love their job and the food they make don’t skip over any corners.

There’s a little tradition and legacy he guesses when it concerns managing a restaurant and cooking food. That is something he can see right now, while you’re prepping.

You have a little routine.

Your knives get sharpened first and foremost. You place them one by one in a line from smallest to biggest gently, making sure they don’t clack or clink onto the wooden bar; making sure that you don’t just drop them down.

“Why do you sharpen your knives first? Wouldn’t it be easier to get all of your ingredients together, so you don’t have to run around for them later?”

You paused at the last knife you were about to set down, turning it this way and that. Then your eyes softened and your grip on the handle changed into one of a gentle cradle.

“My mentor told me that knives are like an Itamae’s soul. We should cherish them for the joy they give to us and our customers.” You ran a finger over a flat side of the blade. “They’re why our cuisine is beautiful, why our ingredients can be gracefully cut and sliced, why we can perform our skills. Because sushi making is an art just as much as it is food, and I think other types of cuisine are more forms of art.”

Then your eyes darted up to Nahoya. The bright sheen and the light quiver of them intoxicating. Excited. Thrilled. That’s how you feel talking about your food, your art. And Nahoya can understand the sentiment. That warm, mushy feeling in his heart when a customer slurps down his and Souya’s ramen is unmatched to any other feeling he’s had.

(Well, except for the fluttering of his heart when he first met you.)

“Don’t you feel that way with your ramen? How your customers get happier after eating your food? The work you put into crafting each bowl?”

Nahoya’s hands twitch on the bar, and his stomach erupts into butterflies, where they fly up to his heart and the tiny thing flutters. Yeah, you really do love what you’re doing. If you can put your dislike aside to talk about your craft with him, then you must enjoy it dearly. And if you can share that joy with Nahoya, then you must really like cooking.

Nahoya likes that. How you both have the same passion over food. He could spend an eternity at your side talking with you about it.

(And maybe he should.)

“Yeah, it is.”

A small quirk of your lips, and a crinkle of your eyes as dark pupils sparkle over with tiny dots of stars make their way onto your face, and Nahoya’s heart stutters in on itself.

“Then you know what I’m talking about.”

His mouth parts open a sliver and his fingers buzz. They want to reach up—out towards you.

Nahoya wants—

“Nahoya! We need to get the shop ready.” Souya peeks his head in from the entrance.

His heart drops again, having to put a stop to this conversation, having to put a stop to his moment with you.

He stares into your bright, bright eyes a second more before he stands up and makes his way out, suppressing the urge to turn around to take one more glance at you as he hears your feet shuffle around your kitchen.

—

After that day, you start talking little by little with him more.

When he greets you from the front counter, you return it. When he wants to join your conversations with Souya, you let him. You slowly warm up to Nahoya, and when he visits your shop while it’s closed and he’s free, you don’t shoo him out or ignore his presence any longer.

He’s been happier these days. Talking with you is fun, he gets a serotonin boost when you have conversations, and they’re about all kinds of things. Like what types of food you like, your favorite ingredients or dishes, ideas for new menus. When the conversation turns away from food, you talk about your other hobbies and interests.

It’s wonderful. Nahoya yearned for days like these to come about under the stew of his mutual hatred to you, and ever since they have, he’s been on cloud nine—top of the world. Maybe he can start asking you out, or at least drop some obvious hints. He’s been subtle about his feelings, but they’re not taking effect.

This is why he’s at your shop once again, watching as you align sashimi along your cutting board.

Nahoya’s heart thrums in his chest at the almost thrillful glint of your eyes as you prepare sashimi. He knows that feeling. He gets the same way when he arrives to the shop early with Souya to think up a special.

Nimble fingers cradle a roll of sashimi as your knife skillfully cuts them into thin strips. Deft digits arrange sushi platters full of rice, avocado, seafood, radishes, and other ingredients next.

You have pretty hands.

The nails are cut short and buffed down, and the skin of your hands look smooth and soft, maybe a little rough from all the knife handling, but it’s nothing Nahoya can’t handle.

They’d probably look equally as pretty wrapped around his dick. He wants to feel your nails scratch marks on his back. He wants them gripping crescents into his skin. God, he wants you again. He misses the tight squeeze of your cunt and the warm cradle of your gummy walls.

He has been plagued with visions of you writhing and whining on his cock every night since that incident, and he can feel his pants tightening as you compress and slide your hands up and down a thick roll of sushi. It looks too meaty to be considered just rice, seafood, and radishes.

“Nahoya, why are you here again?”

His eyes snap up to you. “Why can’t I? There something wrong with me being here? Am I distracting you?”

You sigh before placing the roll down and picking up your sushi knife, hand gripped tight on the handle while the other curls over the sushi. “Not at all.”

Nahoya hums. “Good.”

The sound of your knife cutting clean through the rolls before clacking into the wooden board echo throughout the shop. He takes a glance around, really looks at the interior.

“Your parents must be proud of you.” They must be because there’s a homely, cozy feel to the shop.

It was a simple compliment. An off the hand remark with positive connotations.

But you didn’t take it that way.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You stand up straight from your slightly hunched over form. “Am I not qualified enough to be called a sushi chef?”

Your eyes feel cold on him, just like they were that day. “Do you think my parents payed for all this?”

Nahoya’s blood runs cold and his heart plummets from the clouds. He doesn’t know what landmine he just triggered, but he meant nothing bad by it.

“Tell me, Nahoya. What do you mean by that?” Your arms cross over your chest, resting above your uniform, and your head tilts in challenge. “I’m waiting.”

His heart spikes and his hands clench. “I meant that your parents must be proud of how much you’ve accomplished.”

He stares into your eyes with genuine honesty, but you only click your tongue and sneer. “Fuck you.”

You storm off into the back. Nahoya has half a mind following after you, pushing open the door to slip inside before you have the chance to close it.

The door clicks shut. He doesn’t lock the door, but he does stand in front of it.

“I don’t know what impression I gave off to make you mad at me, but that wasn’t my intention.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Sure.”

His teeth bite down and his jaw feels tight. “Why are you mad at me anyway?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Nahoya’s eyebrows knit together. “Yeah, I would.”

“Well that’s something for me to decide, and I think…” you mock the notion of tapping your chin in thought. “No.”

Anger rises in his blood. “God, why are you such a fucking bitch.”

“I don’t know, Nahoya. Why are you such a fucking asshole.”

“For what? I didn’t do a fucking thing to you.”

“Yes, you did. You’re just an idiot for not knowing.”

“Then tell me what it is.”

“No, that’s something you should reflect on. Wrack your tiny, little pea brain all you can for it. I’m pretty sure even you can come up with something.” Your venomous tone drips mock pity, and it’s getting to him.

“I can’t reflect on something I don’t know what I did.”

“Well that’s too bad then.” Your lips pout and lower in a frown, but your eyes are beady with loathing. “Guess you’ll never know.”

His anger starts to boil over, chest thudding and heart twisting with the ugly fury that encompasses him, but despite that, as he watches your eyes harden into a glare and narrow, he finds his dick twitching in his pants.

You’re such a bitch, but you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad. It’s the same reason he couldn’t fully hate you before, he just wanted to fuck you every time you yelled at him or narrowed your eyes in a cold stare.

The glare you’re giving him right now makes his head spin. The aloof, detached look on your face makes lust pool in his stomach. He wants to fuck you. Nahoya wants to fuck you stupid, fuck you into a blabbering, sobbing mess—fuck the attitude straight outta you.

He nearly groans with the image his mind provides for him.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” He does groan with the sharp edge laced to your voice.

“No, you got my fuckin’ tongue.”

Your mouth drops a peep, brows scrunching in confusion, and Nahoya takes that chance to reel you in.

He smacks his lips into yours, nibbling and sucking on the plump flesh. He feels you shiver, hands clutching at his shirt, pulling him in closer, and he groans.

His hands are desperate rubbing up your sides, your back, down to your ass where he cups them and kneads the doughy flesh. He pulls down your pants and goes back to your ass. Soft skin molds under his touch and he gives it a smack, you moan into the kiss, biting at his lips that makes him groan deep in his chest.

He rubs and squeezes the voluptuous skin, sliding his hand down to where your thighs meet your ass, pressing two fingers inside the fat of your inner thighs, brushing against your plush folds. They’re wet, soaking, and a squelch resounds when his knuckle nudges against it.

You have a thong on. Fuck.

Nahoya pulls back. “Soaking wet. And after all that yapping earlier. Course a bitch like you got excited.”

You moan and squeeze your thighs together.

Nahoya smirks. “Yeah, a slut indeed.”

He pulls your panties down, trailing his fingers over your drooling slit, thumb catching onto your clit where he swatches it back and forth. Your knees tremble and your hands clutch his shirt tighter.

“N- Nahoya.”

His fingers stop, and your hips twitch from the loss of feeling. “Try calling me something else.”

“Sir?”

Nahoya stays quiet as half-lidded eyes stare into yours, dark and brimming with lust. His smile tilts up just a smidge. “Not quite.”

Your mouth parts open, pupils dilating, voice wobbling as you say, “D… daddy.”

Nahoya plunges two fingers inside your pulsing hole, and you have to lean on him, lest you stumble. His voice sounds deep and rich against your ear. “That’s good, princess.”

You shiver a little more strongly this time, your walls flutter on his scissoring fingers, and more creamy slick drips down his fingers.

“No one’s made you call them daddy before?”

Your shoulders twitch from hearing the word alone, and Nahoya’s dick jumps, imagining what you’d sound like moaning it, whimpering the name, or whining for him.

You look down and shake your head, hair falling around you, casting a shadow over your face, slightly hiding it from view.

“See, I don’t get that. You look fuckin’ adorable saying it for me.”

Your pussy throbs.

“You like that, doll? Like it when daddy’s fingers are inside of you. Like it when you call me daddy?” burying your head into his shoulder, you nod.

His fingers work into you faster, brushing against that one spot that has you seeing stars, thumb circling against your clit. Your eyebrows knit together, forehead scrunching, dulcet voice whimpering, “Daddy daddy daddy.” Before you’re cumming, fingers clawing at his shirt, body trembling against his.

Obscene drops of cum plop onto the floor, glide like thick molasses down his hand, and your walls clamp on his fingers so tight that he can only imagine how your tiny cunt would take all of him.

While you catch your breath and recover, Nahoya works on his belt. Everything is leading up to that day in the storage room, and he couldn’t be any more thrilled. But it’s while he’s stroking his dick, fat cockhead resting against your twitching hole that he remembers something.

“Ah shit. I don’t have condoms on me.”

You push your hips against his. The tip sinks in a smidge and the feeling of your gummy walls cradling just his tip is enough to make him shiver, eyes rolling in his head.

“Oh fuck.”

“Put it in me, daddy. ‘m on the pill.” And you latch your arms around his shoulders.

“Well, fuck. You got that, princess.” He slowly pushes the rest of him inside, and when he bottoms out at the hilt, he groans. You’re so tight, hole stretched out and twitching around his shaft.

Ah, fuck. He reaches an arm back and switches the lock on the door.

Nahoya starts slow, sliding himself out then back in. His tip kisses your cervix with each stroke, cockhead nudging against your sweet spot. Your cunt squeezes him with each stroke out, wanton over the loss of his dick. The shaft gleams with your cum, coated in the shiny slick, and it only provides more lube for him to slide back inside.

Like this a slow and deep pace forms. Drops of slick slide down his shaft and wet his balls that slap into the globes of your ass. Your hips buck up and grind with each thrust to the hilt. Your cunt pulses when his cock throbs, and you’re so fucking tight, velvety walls hugging him with such a grip that it makes his stomach tighten, band of pleasure stretched taut.

You bring a hand down to your clit and rub circles into it, eyes rolled to the top of your head, drool peeking out the corners of your lips.

Pretty soon your juices have his pelvis soaked, loud squelches and smacks of your pussy lips hitting his hips, and after a few more strokes, you come undone.

Your cunt clamps down on him as creamy slick seeps out around the ring his shaft, walls fluttering trying to milk him dry, but Nahoya doesn’t want to cum yet. Not until he feels you squirt, so when you remove your hand, he replaces it with his thumb, rubbing your puffy clit further, pace quickening to the point he’s rutting into you.

You squeal, “Stop! ‘s too much.” And tug at his hair which only makes him groan, stomach and balls tightening. Your body convulses, hole spasming as your eyes roll back, tongue slipping out the expanse of your mouth.

Your cunt squeezes Nahoya’s cock in a vice grip. He pulses once more before his balls snap up and ropes of white paint your walls, his finger never stops on your taut nub, and you gush slick all over his abdomen.

By the time you come down from your second orgasm, Drops of your cum drip from Nahoya’s stomach, soft lines of his abs soaked with your slick, and fat droplets of thick sperm ooze from around your hole, plopping onto the floor and staining it with the mess of your other fluids.

Nahoya and you both catch your breath, his knees are shaky and your legs are trembling, turned into jelly, but his dick twitches when you squeeze down on him.

“Fuck. Watch it, princess.” But you don’t stop clamping down on him, and he groans, hips bucking into yours from how your gummy walls hug his sensitive cock, pulsing and throbbing, sucking him in like a vacuum, as if he hasn’t already emptied his load into you.

“You’re a fucking vixen, do you know that?” His hands grip your hips tight, rolling them in circles and grinding figure-eights into his, but your puffy clit throbs in wanting.

“Tell me why you were so mad at me.”

Your lips pout and fold over, and your eyebrows furrow. A minute passes before you step back, pulling your cunt away from him. “You said I was probably a spoiled rich girl.”

Nahoya pauses. “I never said that.”

Your mouth purses and anger rises in your chest. “Yes, you did, Nahoya! Don’t lie. You thought I was some rich girl that learned how to make sushi for fun, didn’t you? That I wasn’t taking my job seriously. Even though I’ve been busting my ass with my own hard-earned money trying to run everything.”

Your voice breaks off into sobs, and you turn your back on him, trying to hide yourself, but he’s being reminded of the bitter memories of your cold back. Only this time, it’s trembling and shaking, small and hunched in, not straight and tall and confident like he’s seen.

“Just because my parents are a little well-off doesn’t mean I’m spoiled. I’m working hard for my dreams too. Don’t discredit my efforts for my parents' social standing.”

Nahoya wracks his mind, searching through his past conversations. When did he ever discredit your cooking skills? He’s only thought good things about you.

“Nahoya, she’s at it again.”

“What?”

“Our cousin. She begged 10k off Uncle. Said she wanted to start up a restaurant.”

“But she’s never taken classes, or has any knowledge in business management. What a fucking spoiled brat. That’s what she is.”

Oh.

Nahoya remembers that conversation. He also remembers how the door creaked open a bit before closing, the bell chiming which distracted them both.

They thought a customer arrived or was hesitant on entering, so he went outside to check, but no one was there. He also remembers how cold your stare turned when you came in later and shifted your eyes to him, the edges red and puffy.

That must have been you at the door, and you must have overheard them and misunderstood. The pieces are starting to click together.

So this was all just a big misunderstanding.

He leans over your shoulder to peek into your face, but your arms cover you from view.

He kisses his teeth. “Can I talk to ya, doll? I think you got a misunderstanding.”

“nhm.” You shake your head and bury your face further into the cradle of your inner elbow.

“Doll, let me just talk to ya for a little.” He reaches a hand towards you, but you slap him away.

Nahoya doesn’t budge. His mouth parts open, tongue trailing along his teeth. He wonders if he has to force you to listen because you’re being a fucking brat right now. A childish one who won’t have a proper conversation. Instead, hiding yourself away to lick at your wounds.

He grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you up to see your mascara ruined and fat droplets of tears sliding down your puffy cheeks, eyes hazy and feverish.

His dick rises to full mast.

“You kiddin’ me? You got upset over something as small as that? You ignored me over somethin’ so stupid? I wasn’t talking about you that day, I was talking to Souya about our cousin.”

“Your cousin?”

“Yeah, our fucking spoiled cousin who begs her parents for money to do stupid shit she doesn’t commit herself to.”

Your mouth opens and closes for a few seconds before you take a deep breath, eyes softening into regret. “‘m-”

His grip on your hair gets a little tighter. “That wasn’t very nice, doll.” But he lets go.

Placing his hand on your shoulder, he turns you back to him. That same hand roams to your cheek, brushing against it before his thumb strokes the delicate skin.

Your eyes shift again, full of arousal. You look at him so prettily, pupils dilated and shining, mouth parted open a sliver. All doe-eyed and precious as his thumb ghosts to a corner of your lips, rubbing the plump flesh.

Then it slides inside your warm mouth, and you can taste yourself. This was the same hand he fingered you with. “Do you hate daddy now, princess?”

“Nuh-uh.” And your cute little fucked out head shakes before you start sucking on his fingers, transfixed with the soft yet dominating handle.

Nahoya’s breath hitches and his dick pulses. Fuck. You’re so fucking cute.

He’s gonna ruin you. Wreck your cunt, mold your walls to his dick, whatever it is so you can keep being like this the whole night. He’ll fuck you silly.

FOOTNOTES

itamae means “in front of the board” and it is also the title used for a sushi chef.

nahoya didn’t know this but you looked at him all starry-eyed too during that first meeting. souya saw all of this and wondered when the two of you would patch things up.

he found out when he came over, just as the two of you left your back room, clothes and hair rustled, nahoya’s shirt was on backwards, your uniform was buttoned up unevenly, you were breathless, and your lips were swollen red.

souya teased nahoya about it the whole night, but he didn’t care bc the both of you called each other before you fell asleep and ended up talking for hours.

souya had trouble sleeping that night bc of your giggling, Nahoya’s chuckling, and your excited chatter.

taglist. @festive i’m going back n tagging ppl on my taglist form so let me know if you wanna be taken off viva! i feel like you’re not interested in tr anymore but rather genshin or twisted wonderland 🥲 @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @ray-lol

r u mine ? | haitani r.

haitani ran x fem!reader

summary: you accidentally push your boyfriend just a bit too far during a night out at the club with his friends

warnings: possessive!ran, jealous!ran, rough sex, degradation, semi-public sex, manhandling, mirror sex, established relationship (ran x reader), slight gaslighting + implied relationship issues

wordcount: 3.9k

notes: back on my bullshit w jealous!ran >:(

He knew you could feel his stare boring into the back of your head from across the room as you shifted uncomfortably on the barstool where you were grinning at Sanzu Haruchiyo, listening to him prattle on about the competition he had just lost against Kakucho. And he knew that you didn’t really care about what Sanzu was talking about but his hand curled tighter around his drink as he watched you entertain him, leaning back in his seat, breathing in deep through his nose as he took a long swig of his drink.

Calm down.

But his blood ran molten hot as he watched you laugh as Sanzu leaned in close to you, practically draped over your shoulder as he slurred on about how Kakucho totally cheated in the drinking game, about how pretty you look, and about Ran. Sanzu Haruchiyo had never been a quiet talker and Haitani Ran had good hearing, so even from halfway across the club he could hear Sanzu loudly bitch on about how Ran didn’t deserve you.

And Ran could only swallow thickly at the words. Because maybe Sanzu was right. Maybe he didn’t deserve you. He had a temper that caused too many arguments between the two of you, he got nasty and said things he didn’t mean and it wasn’t fair to you. But more than that, he was selfish and Ran would never admit those things, and he would never admit that maybe he didn’t deserve you.

And he wasn’t sure if it was fear or fury that made his stomach twist uncomfortably as you pet Sanzu’s hair gently, almost cooing at how Sanzu was nuzzled into your neck, practically moaning at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair--the same way you had lulled Ran to sleep the other night when he had woken up from a nightmare and was unable to fall back asleep.

He felt sick. It took all of his self-control to not get up from where he was sitting with Rindou and storm over to you. You should be doing that with him--not fucking Sanzu, who everybody knew was in love with you because he made no effort to hide it. 

But you weren’t doing it with him because, like always, he had lost his temper and said something hurtful when you mentioned wanting to come with him to the club to celebrate the successful deal Bonten made with their rival. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want you going out with them--he loved when you joined him and Rindou at the club. He didn’t like when you joined them when Sanzu was around--because Sanzu was much touchier, much bolder, and much more lovesick when he was drunk and high. It wasn’t you he didn’t trust, he was fucking Sanzu, who had no respect for your relationship with Ran and pursued you as if you were single.

And Ran hated it. It wasn’t like he wasn’t secure in your relationship--he loved you and you loved him, he knew that and he knew you wouldn’t leave him, but Sanzu Haruchiyo managed to get under his skin every time he smiled pretty at you, desperately trying to get your attention. And Ran was already three drinks in and his patience was waning fast as he watched Sanzu drape himself all over you like a fucking whore and as he watched you let him. 

He was going to throw up.

He could feel the bile rise to his throat as he watched you smile softly and smooth his sweaty hair out of his face, as he watched Sanzu look up at you with a sort of reverence that should only be reserved for gods. And the worst part was that he knew damn well that you weren’t even doing this maliciously. He had watched Sanzu stumble up to you, already drunk out of his mind, and he had watched the worry flash through your face as you steadied him and helped him sit down, calling the bartender over to bring water. He knew that you would never go out of your way to purposefully hurt him (unlike him, a dark voice reminded him, who spat the nastiest things when he was angry only to hurt you. Guilt rose and he forced himself to push it away. His chest felt heavy. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he be better?)

He let out a shaky breath, slamming his cup down on the table so hard that it nearly shattered, pressing his hands to his face.

He was gonna fucking lose it. He could feel it, he could feel his blood heating up, he could feel his stomach churning and his chest aching, he could feel a rage-induced haze beginning to latch on to his mind.

Breathe, he told himself, forcing himself to take in deep breaths, ignoring Rindou’s call of his name. It was hot, he was too hot, it was suffocating, he couldn’t breathe and he could feel the sweat beading at his forehead and Ran didn’t know what to do. He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt, trying to help himself cool down. Breathe. Breathe.

He needed to breathe otherwise he was going to do something he regretted, something that might drive you away for good.

For good, the words echoed in his head. What if it already was for good? What if he had pushed it too far this time? 

No, he told himself, but he could feel his heart sinking in his chest as he listened to you giggle at whatever Sanzu said. No, you wouldn’t. You’ve had plenty of fights like this before and you hadn’t left.

Maybe this one was one too many.

“Ran, calm down,” Rindou’s voice sounded a million miles away even though he was sitting in the booth right next to him.

Ran’s eyes peeked out from above his hands to look at his brother, to tell him to fuck off because he was calm, he was perfectly fine, there was nothing wrong but as he looked up, he caught sight of Sanzu leaning in close—too close—and he caught sight of the pretty blush decorating your cheeks.

One that should only be reserved for him.

Ran was on his feet in an instant, ripping his hand away from Rindou’s as he darted forward to curl his hand around Ran’s wrist, trying to stop him with a sharp call of his name. 

Ran’s blood was roaring in his ears as he made his way right toward the two of you, tunnel vision on the two of you even as Kakucho tried to step in his path to stop him, shoving him away hard as he drew closer to you and Sanzu because who the fuck did Sanzu think he was? Who the fuck did you think you were?

And a distant part of him knew, he knew that you were only entertaining Sanzu because of how drunk he was, that whatever he was saying meant nothing to you, that you were only with him because Ran had left you with Kakucho and Kokonoi in a fit of pettiness when the two of you arrived at the club, still seething from your fight.

“‘s jus’ s’dumb, d’nno why you wan’ him when y’could have s’much better? ‘n-n-n ‘m not the best, but I’d treat y’better than him at least, y’know?” he could hear Sanzu slur as he approached, “s’much better, ‘d treat you s’good, like you deserve.”

And as you opened your mouth to respond, a sudden burst of fear chilled his blood because Ran didn’t want to know what your response to that was. He didn’t want to hear you agree that yeah, maybe Sanzu would treat you better, maybe you deserved more than a douchebag who lost his temper and made you cry and never apologized, that you regretted saying yes when he asked you out two years ago.

The fear gave way to anger, as it always did.

“Get the fuck up.”

The words spit out so viciously that you physically jumped, eyes wide as you turned to look at him but you didn’t move fast enough, he couldn’t stand the way that Sanzu only leaned deeper into you, lips practically brushing your skin as he let out shaky breaths, eyes dilated from whatever he had taken earlier.

Ran’s hand darted out before he could stop himself, a bruising grip curling around your bicep as he yanked you right off the barstool sending you stumbling into him. A sick glee swept through him as Sanzu yelped, trying to steady himself but his attention was on you. You and your pretty face with your wide eyes and parted lips as you started up at him in shock. 

And his anger almost melted away at the genuine confusion gracing your face because he knew, he knew you didn’t mean for it to come across as you did, that you were just trying to help Sanzu not pass out at the bar but he caught sight of Sanzu pouting behind you, shooting a longing look in your direction, and the anger returned with a vengeance.

His lips were pressed together tight and his glare was nothing short of lethal as he pulled his gaze from Sanzu and back onto you.

“Ran-“ you began and he hated how he faltered at the sound of his name on your lips so he only tightened his grip, yanking you forward without a word and Ran wasn’t even sure where he was going as the large crowd of club goers parted at the sight of an enraged Haitani, as you stumbled into his back trying to keep up with how fast he was walking and how hard he was pulling you along.

Calm down, the more rational part of him begged him as he heard you plead with him to slow down but he could barely even hear you over the blood roaring through his ears, over his fury.

He caught sight of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye and turned abruptly, dragging you through the club and into the crowded bathroom.

“Get the fuck out,” and Ran didn’t have to yell at the men crowding in the large bathroom. Everyone knew who he was, and what organization he belonged to. They caught sight of the tattoo branding his throat and fled the bathroom without a single noise or complaint.

And once the door swung shut and the final man left the bathroom, Ran finally turned toward you, the silence deafening as he stared down at you with lidded eyes, trying to figure out what the fuck he should say.

Just tell her you didn’t like how close she got to Sanzu, the rational part again spoke up, begging him not to make this worse.

“Are you done acting like a fucking whore?” the words slipped from his lips before he could stop them. He winced, regret already pooling as hurt spread across your face.

“Ran, I wasn’t-he was drunk, I-“

“He was drunk, so you felt the need to let him hang all over you,” and he was screaming at himself to shut up, but the words kept spilling past his lips, “You fuckin’ reek of him. Can smell him on you from here.”

His hand shot out to curl around your jaw tight--too tight--squeezing your cheeks together hard as he leaned in close, “You like prancing around in your tiny fuckin’ dresses ‘n letting any fucker throw himself all over you, don’t you? Saw you with Kakucho earlier too. How many cocks do you need stuffin’ you before you’re fuckin’ satisfied? You want Mikey’s next? Or maybe Rindou? You want my brother to fuck you full of his cum too?” 

He could feel your face heat up under his fingers, he could see the tears well in your eyes as you looked up at him.

Shut the fuck up, you’re making it worse-

“You want me to call ‘em in here?” Ran spit out, “want me to call ‘em in here and have ‘em run a train on you? Maybe you just wanna be Bonten’s filthy fuckin’ whore instead of my girlfriend, yeah?” 

“No!” you were sobbing, the tears were spilling from your eyes, over your cheeks and wetting his fingers. Your voice was garbled from how tight he was squeezing your cheeks but he could still make out your words, “No, Ran, only want you, I only want you!” 

And he hoped the breath he let out didn’t sound as relieved as he felt because your words started to calm the storm raging in him. Only want you, the words echoed and Ran’s throat felt tight as he searched your glassy eyes, trying to decide if you were telling the truth or lying to make him feel better. 

His grip on your jaw loosened, “Only me?” he asked again, voice quieter as he waited for your reaction.

You nodded as best as you could with his grip on your face, ‘Only you,” you confirmed, and Ran’s tight jaw relaxed, considering you before leaning back on his heels, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well how ‘bout you prove it?” he drawled and you blinked up at him, unsure of what he meant. His free hand curled around your waist to flip you around, pushing you forward. You let out a surprised ‘oof’ as he bent you over the sink counter, one leg slipping between yours to knock them apart. “Gunna let me fuck you real good, aren’t you, doll? Then ‘m gunna send you right back out there with my cum leakin’ out of you, so they all know just who you belong to.”

Ran’s hand slid up your body, fisting your hair tight and lifting your head from where it was resting against the sink, forcing you to look up and into the mirror. His eyes met your wide, teary ones through the reflection, waiting for you to say something as he unbuckled the belt holding his slacks up with his other hand.

After a few moments, you nodded. Ran’s grip on your hair tightened, waiting for a verbal confirmation.

“Yes,” you finally gasped, “wanna prove it, ‘ll prove it, Ran, ‘s only you, only you!”

A soft groan slipped past his lips at your words, pulling his cock from his pants and guiding it toward your cunt as he pushed your tiny dress up over your waist, pushing your panties over to the side, sliding his fingers between your drenched folds before nudging his tip against your entrance, relishing in the long whine that you let out as you tried to push your hips back against his.

His thoughts darkened again. Were you this wet for Sanzu? Or him?

“Sloppy fuckin’ cunt is already soaked,” he said, voice low, “Turned you on having Sanzu all over you, didn’t it?”

He watched you in the mirror, as your brows furrowed before his words finally registered in your head and you began shaking your head rapidly, “N-no,” you stuttered, a whimper escaping your lips as he pushed the fat tip of his cock into your cunt, one hand coming up to press down hard against the small of your back, stopping you from trying to fuck yourself back onto his cock. 

“No,” you cried, “No, Ran, ‘s cause of you, ‘m wet cause of you.”

“Yeah? It’s ‘cause of me?” he questioned, watching you nod your head frantically at his words, tears sliding down your cheeks, smearing your pretty makeup, “You got this wet from me dragging you across the club like a misbehaving child? You really are a fuckin’ whore, aren’t you? Bet you did this on purpose just to fuckin’ piss me off.”

“N-no, no, no, Ran, I didn’t, I-oh!” your protests dissolved into a loud whimper as Ran pushed his cock deep into you--his eyes half-rolling back at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock so fucking good. “Oh god, oh god, Ran ‘s s’big, you’re s’big, hol’on-”

Ran took in a shuddered breath as he felt your walls tightening and fluttering around his cock, his fist tightened in your hair when your eyes squeezed shut, “Watch,” he said, voice rough as he forced himself not to pull his hips back and thrust himself deep inside of you, priding himself on his self control. 

Your eyes fluttered back open, wide and dazed as your gaze focused back on his through the mirror, jaw slack from the stretch of his cock against your walls. He leaned down over you, lips brushing your ear and eyes steady on yours as he spoke, “You see this?” you whimpered in response, “You feel how good you’re suckin’ me in? This is all fuckin’ mine. My pretty pussy. Not fuckin’ Rindou’s, not Kakucho’s, not Sanzu’s, not yours, all fuckin’ mine. Say it.”

“‘S all yours, all yours, all yours,” you sobbed, “‘m all yours, Ran, please just fuck me already. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease-”

And Ran let out another shaky breath at your words, “Yeah, you’re all mine?” 

“All yours, only yours,” you babbled, “Please, Ran, please-”

All yours, it echoed through his head as he pulled his hips back and snapped them back into you--a loud, shameless moan spilling past his lips as you cried out his name, cunt clenching hard around him. He pulled your hair, hissing as he pressed his hand down harder into your back, spreading your legs open further so he could fuck himself deeper into you, his tip brushing your cervix with every thrust. 

And you were crying his name so fucking loud that there was no way that everyone in that club couldn’t hear you--not loud enough, he thought to himself, picking up the pace of his hips, fucking you faster, rougher, pushing down on your back so hard that he knew it would be bruised tomorrow, cock driving into you so deep that he knew it must be on the verge of painful, that your thighs would be black and blue from the force of his thrusts driving you into the sink.

But you didn’t seem to care, and Ran almost came on the spot when he realized that you were sobbing and begging him for more--deeper, harder, faster, please Ran, please, need more.

You were fucking perfect. God, you were so fucking perfect for him, he bit down hard on your neck, tongue lapping at the beads of blood drawn from his teeth, moaning against your skin at the pornographic moan of his name torn from your lips, at the way your cunt fluttered around him as he brought you closer and closer to your high.

You were so fucking addicting, he could never get enough of you--he swore, he swore that your pretty pussy was made just for him. His pretty pussy, he reminded himself, not fuckin’ yours. His pretty pussy, his pretty girl, his, his, his, his, all fucking his. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, ‘m gunna cum, Ran, feels s’good, you feel s’good,” you wailed, “S’good, s’good, so so so so so good!” 

“Yeah, I do, and I’m the only fuckin’ one that can make you feel this good,” he groaned, sloppily kissing up your neck to behind your ear, “Say it.”

“You’re the only one,” you nodded your head frantically, “The only one that can make me feel so good, the only one, only you.”

He moaned into your ear, biting down on your earlobe lightly before tracing his tongue along it, hot and dizzy from your words ringing through his ear, from the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock. The hand pressing down hard on your back slipped around your body, fingers flicking lightly at your puffy clit and the reaction was instant. The air was ripped from his lungs as your cunt squeezed him hard, as you came all over his cock, walls spasming around him, crying his name so loud that everybody in the club must’ve heard you.

“Oh fuuuck,” Ran gasped, head light and vision spotty as you threw him so suddenly over the edge, spilling his seed so deep inside your cunt that it had you whimpering and whining, body spasming and twitching underneath his. And for a second, all he could do was lay there, panting and desperately trying to catch his breath, reeling from the intense and abrupt orgasm. 

After a moment, he pulled off of you, hissing as his cock slipped out of you and he tucked himself back into his pants. Chest once again heavy as he helped you stand up, taking in the bruises on your thigh and bicep, the teeth marks marring your neck. 

His lips parted to apologize, say sorry for all of the awful shit he had accused you of, say sorry for treating you so roughly but no words came out.

“I shouldn’t have let Sanzu be all over me like that,” you said quietly, still half out of it as you looked up at him through your lashes, “I’m-”

“No,” he said, interrupting you before you could get the words out. “No, I… I’m sorry. I knew you were only entertaining him because he was drunk and high. I shouldn’t have…”

Done all of this, he said, looking over your smeared makeup and marked up body.

But you only smiled, “S’okay, baby,” you said and Ran all but melted at the pet name, shoulders slumping as he reached forward to cup your cheeks gently, pressing his lips against your forehead, “I kinda liked it.”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling against your skin, before pulling back and looking down at you with a teasing smirk, “Well I could tell that much from how you kept begging for more,” he said, a genuine smile tugging at his lips as you giggled at his words and leaned into him. His smile faded after a few moments, “I’ll be better,” he added quietly, remembering the argument that led to this situation in the first place, “We keep arguing. It’s my fault, I can’t control my temper and-”

“Your work is… difficult,” you said quietly, “you’re stressed all the time, and I know I make it worse sometimes by being so passive aggressive about things. We both have things to work on, okay?”

He let out a soft breath, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, “I love you, y’know?”

“And I love you,” you said, and Ran’s throat felt tight as he buried his face in your hair because he knew he didn’t deserve you, and he knew he was lucky that you loved him because he knew that he was a difficult person to love. 

“Can we go home?” you asked after a few moments and Ran pulled back to raise an eyebrow, “wanna just relax ‘n watch a movie.” 

And Ran let out a soft sigh as he leaned in again to kiss your forehead--he knew Rindou would be pissy, and Kokonoi probably wouldn’t be happy about him leaving early either but… his eyes met your hopeful ones and he could only give you a small smile, “Yeah, let’s go home.”

--

taglist: @touyasghosty @kennyb0y @sano-obsessed @wakasasucker @portfolio-of-dreams @islascafe @rxmera @manjiroscum @sugusshi @novaresque @haitanihime @adeptiixiao @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @zuuki @crackheadwithtoes @hanmascult @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @hollypastl @kazufuyusluv @imkumichan @meena-in-a-nutshell @aces-high @obsessiontoanime @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @marism @prettyiolanthe @whydohumansss @rinsie @blvebcrry @r-xochitl @chaoticwh0re @chifuyuslilkitten @wifetotomurashigaraki @lundabean @crown5 @savagemickey03 @keijisprettygirl  @kuroolv @shizunxie

LITTLE DARK AGE

haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou

summary: eight years later, you finally return to tokyo and find yourself caught in the middle of a violent gang war between the two most ruthless criminal organizations of tokyo's underworld, forced to choose between blood and love.

genre: bonten timeskip, angst, forbidden romance, childhood friends -> strangers -> lovers, 18+ MDNI

warnings: fem!reader, gang violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, explicit smut, polyamory, profanity, MCD, unedited, MTBA

taglist form

status: incomplete

CHAPTER ONE -- this week

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

TBA...

general taglist: @touyasghosty @novaresque @sano-obsessed @sugusshi @rxmera @islascafe @haitanihime @adeptiixiao @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @zuuki @daiserenade @hanmascult @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @kazufuyusluv @imkumichan @aces-high @marism @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @obsessiontoanime @prettyiolanthe @rinsie @blvebcrry @r-xochitl @savagemickey03 @lundabean @crown5 @kuroolv @shizunxie @senjuasuna @portfolio-of-dreams (IM SORRY 😭😭)

reblogs always appreciated ^.^

Playing Dominoes: Tokyo Rev Edition

Warnings: Kisaki Tetta content ahead, cursing, mocking from Ran's part, flirting, big brain ish, lowkey crackhead, my awful writing, alcohol consuming. If i forgot any other things, please let me know.

Mess's Note: So this is my first head cannon, sorry if there's some incorrect grammar. l'm not a writer this is the first time I do this. Shoutout to @chifuyuslilkitten for giving the first read to this, ilysm 💖. Also idk how much you know bout the game so I have this right here to you'll get a definition. This came out bc of how much dominoes i play on a daily basis and bc of the masterminds i had encounter when i was learning how to play. Maybe l'll do other characters. For now, hope you enjoy it!

Wakasa Imaushi:

Plays occasionally, likes to play at nights. Took his time to learn just out of boredom.

Is a good calculator, knows which dominoes he can play. He's above the average player so he's good, he can surely surprise you with some of his moves.

He's that mysterious and calculating that even if you're his partner for the game, you're putting yourself at risk because you won't be able to know what he has until he places his 2nd or 3rd move.

He mostly will win because he makes the others lock the game with him or with his partner that after all, he made them stay with the lowest dominoes.

Is a quiet and relaxed player, he even looks like he doesn't want to be there but actually is pretty entertained, calculating his next move.

“It was obvious why i played my double six first. In order to win, it was needed for me to let all the points in the table” Wakasa states after putting his lollipop out of his mouth, he just chuckles when Shinichiro and Takeomi start complaining that he’s a liar because he never played six’s. “If I only have 1 six and that one is double six and the person before me is playing six’s and is trying to lock the game. I cannot give them the winning chance that easily” The flavor of his lollipop is again present in his taste buds while he states the obvious: He’ll never let the enemy win without giving a good fight first.

Kisaki Tetta:

• Learns how to play in 2 days. Wanted to learn after he found out that is a pretty enjoyable game when it’s played with the correct people.

• A calculating mastermind. Literally knows which dominoes you have in your hands.

• And now that we're talking about him knowing which dominoes you have in your hands, he’ll literally tell you to put them in the table.

•Kisaki will call you out and will pressure you until you have to put that specific one on the table, he knows for sure how to make you crumble under his games.

• If he wins, mostly it’ll be because of a “capicua”. He pulls the strings so the perfect landing of the dominoes he needs can be played on the table.

• Will let NEVER let you win, you have to outsmart him. That’ll take some time but I assure you that once you get used to his way of playing, you’ll win.

• The tension grows as Kisaki places his 2/3, making both sides of the table show dominoes which ends have the number three “Just put the double three you’ve been hiding so long, this is your last chance" Kisaki fixes his glasses while he rises his cup with his other hand, waiting for someone to fill it up with more whiskey. You know what just happened, he needed that double three to win and now, you’ll have to place it on the table. “Yes, put it there. This would’ve been better for you if you’ve put that stupid double three before” He says while placing his 3/4, the last dominoe on his side, this declares him as the winner while he takes a sip of his drink.

Ran Haitani:

An overall good player. Learned in a month or two how to play decently.

Has his good days but also has his bad . All depends on his mood, Ran dislikes the idea of playing with people who are boring, this makes his mood go down as well.

Ran is known for winning because of locking the game. I can let you know that he is one of those players that rarely will win without locking or making you pass few times.

Mostly flirts or annoys his opponents so they can lose their concentration.

This helps him because that means that you'll lose the focus on what Rindou (or his partner) is playing. He'll make sure that he’ll win without leaving a single trace.

“Hey Doll face~” The older Haitani says, using that flirting tone while adorning his features with that well know smug grin that evolves to an smirk. “Just play already, you know I get nervous whenever I look at you…” His violet orbs staring at you, making your poor heart beat faster and your cheeks go brighter. Your focus on your dominoes and the table leaves for a little bit when his fingers taps on the table, slightly, making a soft sound “C’mon Doll Face~, Imma little bit impatient. You look so good tonight, is it for me?” He lets out a flirty chuckle, finally making you look at him. Your dilemma grows as his grin does, the right dominoe long forgotten and the game far away from your head as you dive in his deep violet orbs. “Just play Doll face, I’m waiting for you my love..” And this was the final straw for you to pick the incorrect dominoe, you played 4/2 instead of staying firm and placing your double four. This gave him the upper hand because this made him place the last 2 dominoes and locks the game. Winning the gold, again.

Taggies: @chifuyuslilkitten 🌸

LITTLE DARK AGE

haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou

summary: eight years later, you finally return to tokyo and find yourself caught in the middle of a violent gang war between the two most ruthless criminal organizations of tokyo’s underworld, forced to choose between blood and love.

genre: bonten timeskip, angst, forbidden romance, childhood friends -> strangers -> lovers, 18+ MDNI

warnings: fem!reader, gang violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, explicit smut, polyamory, profanity, MCD, unedited, MTBA

taglist form is on masterlist!

wordcount: 4k

masterlist -> next chapter

CHAPTER Ⅰ. I’M GOING BACK TO 505 

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friends | haitani r.

haitani ran x fem!reader

summary: he shouldn’t have been so damn cocky when he told you not to go catching feelings for him.

genre: fwb to lovers, best friends to lovers

warnings: fem!reader, fwb tropes, semi-public sex, angry/jealous sex, degradation, car sex, UNEDITED

word count: 3.9k

notes: for @kshira​‘s FWB collab! :D 

Seguir leyendo

@bxnten Caru things ✨

Sanzu, pointing at ran: Fuck you asshole.

Sanzu, giving Rindou the finger: eat shit bitch.

Sanzu, throwing a knife at Kokonoi: rot in hell

Sanzu, kissing your forehead: I’m so proud of you, keep doing what you’re doing, sweet cheeks.

LITTLE DARK AGE

haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou

summary: eight years later, you finally return to tokyo and find yourself caught in the middle of a violent gang war between the two most ruthless criminal organizations of tokyo’s underworld, forced to choose between blood and love.

genre: bonten timeskip, angst, forbidden romance, childhood friends -> strangers -> lovers, 18+ MDNI

warnings: fem!reader, gang violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, explicit smut, polyamory, profanity, MCD, unedited, MTBA

taglist form is on masterlist!

previous chapter -> masterlist -> next chapter

CHAPTER Ⅱ. HOUSE OF MEMORIES

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SENGOKU JIDAI the warring states period

sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader minor hanma shuji x fem!reader

summary: as the first daughter of the sano clan, you had always known your fate would be to be bargained off to some rival clan for territory or gold. you had accepted it–or you thought you had, at least, until the kanto region erupts into chaos and your brother transfers his own retainer, sanzu haruchiyo, to you instead.

genre: sengoku period historical au, forbidden love, smut, angst

warnings: fem!reader, violence, character death, betrayal, misogynistic + patriarchal themes

taglist form on masterlist

notes: to be clear, i will not be continuing this if it flops--i'm putting a lot of research and time into it and would rather devote it elsewhere if this doesn't gain traction.

masterlist -> next chapter

CHAPTER ONE

“Manjiro-nii, Izana-nii! Why don’t you ever wait up for me?”

The air was warm against your face and you could feel your clothes sticking to your skin as you finally caught up to your two brothers, panting heavily as you desperately tried to catch your breath. From the top of the hill, you looked down at where Manjiro and Izana were sparring at its base, the sound of metal clashing ripping through the serenity of the midsummer day. 

You watched as the two of them bounced back from each other, concentrated expressions easing as they simultaneously turned their heads to look at you. You crossed your arms over your chest as you glared down at them, watching Izana’s lavender eyes flicker in amusement as he sheathed his blade at his side and leaned back on his heels.

“Little one, I distinctly remember Chiyo-san mentioning your lessons in tea etiquette would last until nightfall today, something about falling behind,” Izana chided, looking up pointedly at the high noon sun, “Unless my eyes deceive me, I do believe that means you should be there now.”

You couldn’t stop the pout from forming at your lips even though you knew very well that if Chiyo-san were to see such an expression on your face, you would be dealt another slap to the back with her stick. 

“Tea etiquette is boring,” you complained, and it was. You were sure that if you had to hear Chiyo-san badger on about each and every acceptable movement and gesture, the placement of utensils during different seasons and all of the different kinds of tea ceremonies for one more moment, you would lose your mind. “I would much rather be out here with you two.”

Manjiro scoffed loudly, “Well you can’t be,” Manjiro turned his head up, looking away from you, and you scowled at your twin, both of you ignoring the exasperated look that swept across Izana’s face, “Go back inside with Emma.”

Izana clicked his tongue sharply, “Manji-”

“You only don’t want me out here training with you because you remember what happened the last time,” you accused, and you knew you were right from the flush that spread across Manjiro’s cheeks. It had been nearly half a year since you knocked him down after sneaking out of etiquette classes and following them to this very same spot. Admittedly, you had fought dirty, but Manjiro was not a person who took defeat well and he refused to let you join them again.

“You threw dirt in my face,” Manjiro snapped, “If you’re going to fight like one of those despicable shinobi, then you shouldn’t be sparring with us anyway.”

“I do not fight like a shinobi!” you gasped, eyes wide as you drew back, “Don’t say that!” 

“Manjiro,” Izana sighed, looking between the two of you, expression exasperated. Manjiro pressed his lips together and looked away, you glared. “Little one, you need to return to your etiquette lessons. You’re coming of age-”

“If you make me go back, I’ll tell Shinichiro-nii that you’re sparring with steel! Don’t think I didn’t hear him tell you specifically to only use training weapons!” you said loudly, hands fisted at your side.

The last thing you wanted was to be reminded that you were, in fact, getting to the age where you’d have to start taking all of your etiquette training seriously, where the council would start beginning discussions of marriage arrangements. 

Nausea built. You pushed it away.

“Of course, you would do that, you snitch!” Manjiro said angrily, Izana let out a puff of breath, moving between the two of you as Manjiro took a step forward. “Move Izana! If she wants to train with us, I’ll spar with her.”

“No,” Izana’s voice was cold and sharp as he glared down at Manjiro, “Get ahold of yourself.”

The glare directed toward you by Manjiro nearly had your hair standing on end, fight or flight instincts rising sharply. His temper was getting worse, you realized, swallowing thickly as you remembered what had happened a few weeks ago when you and your siblings had gone into town, a cool chill swept over you. 

Manjiro would never hurt you, you told yourself but you hated the doubt that crept through you, remembering the blood splattered across your face and staining your clothes as you held the limp form of a boy barely older than you, watching him wail and scream clutching at the bloody, broken left side of his body.

You watched as Manjiro’s tense shoulders slowly relaxed. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Can I at least watch?” you pleaded as a last-ditch effort not to be sent back to your lessons. Manjiro let out an irritated breath but Izana only sighed.

“Chiyo-san will know to come out here and look for you,” he warned and your eyebrows knitted together.

“She won’t even realize for another hour at least,” you said, “It wasn’t just me and Emma today in lessons, she brought in all the other girls from the extended parts of the clan.”

“And you don’t think that she’d pay even more attention to making sure you don’t slip away,” Izana clicked his tongue again and you shifted uncomfortably under his stare.

“Well-”

“Hime!” a familiar voice shouted from the direction of the estate and you jumped, Manjiro snickered, Izana chuckled.

“I told you, little one,” he murmured, and you turned just in time to see Chiyo-san’s short-form storming in your direction, expression twisted into one of frustration and irritation. You had half a mind to bolt in the opposite direction, knowing the older woman wouldn’t be able to catch up to you, but you decided against it--it would only bring you more trouble later.

“Hime, how many times must I ask you to remain in our lessons?” Chiyo-san demanded once she approached you on the top of the hill, “Do not make me go to Shinichiro-dono about this, he is busy enough trying to handle clan business after having been so suddenly thrust in as clan head.”

Guilt pooled in your gut and you shifted uncomfortably under Chiyo-san’s sharp gaze, both Manjiro and Izana’s laughter quieted down at the reminder of your father’s recent assassination.

“I apologize,” the words were bitter on your tongue. You hated apologizing. But Chiyo-san’s eyes softened and she let out a quiet breath.

“Sometimes I forget you are all still children,” she murmured to herself, so quietly you barely caught it, “Come, hime, we must return to your lessons. I will release you early tonight.”

You sent one last look of longing back toward your brothers before Chiyo-san motioned for you to follow her back into the estate. You desperately tried to force the pout that was building on your lips, hyper-aware of the thin stick held in Chiyo-san’s hand, dangling loosely at her side.

And you had thought you had succeeded in wiping it away until Chiyo-san stopped suddenly, right before the entrance to the main family estate.

Just as you were about to ask her why she stopped, she turned to you. Chiyo-san grabbed your chin harshly and you swallowed thickly as your eyes met her dark ones--but there was no anger, no hostility, only worry, “Hime,” she murmured, “‘the nail that sticks out gets hammered down,’ you must remember that.”

You frowned, confused and unsure of what she meant. 

“But-”

“Come, hime,” Chiyo-san interrupted, gently urging you along through the doors of the house, “let us return to our lessons.”

Reluctantly, you followed, sparing one last glance back at the direction you had left your two brothers in, distantly hearing the clash of metal as they continued their spar until the door shut behind you.

---

‘The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.’

Your lips were tugged down as you watched Izana and Manjiro spar at the bottom of the hill, hands folded in front of you. Your eyes traced your twin’s movement, watching as he brought his blade down on Izana’s, watching as Izana grit his teeth, arms flexing as he blocked the intense blow. Sweat beaded at his forehead, his breath came out faster, heavier. 

He was tiring.

“Manjiro is going to win again,” Shinichiro murmured from where he was standing next to you, dark eyes flicking back and forth as he watched Manjiro and Izana exchange another round of blows.

“Izana will never beat Manjiro so long as his lungs are weak,” you said quietly. “He has the technique but lacks the stamina.”

A loud clash, a blade gone flying. Frustration swept across Izana’s face as Manjiro placed his blade at his neck, signaling the end of the spar.

“There’s nothing we can do about that,” Shinichiro sighed deeply, “we’ve brought in the most renowned herbalists and physicians in the entire region and they’ve all given us the same answer.”

There’s nothing that can be done. 

“Again,” Izana said sharply, moving away from Manjiro to pick up his blade. Manjiro shot a look up toward where you and Shinichiro were standing. Shinichiro nodded. Manjiro readied his blade again.

“It’s only going to upset him more when he loses again,” you noted, referring to Izana as you watched him block another heavy slash from Manjiro. 

“He hasn’t been sleeping,” Shinichiro replied, “He’s been out at all times of the night training to try to build his stamina. I’m hoping this tires him out enough to get a good night’s rest.”

You sighed, watching as Izana’s jaw clenched as he let out a flurry of fast attacks against Manjiro--slower than his last batch; watching as anger flashed through his face when Manjiro blocked them with ease. 

“You have to choose, nii-san,” you said so quietly that you weren’t even sure if Shinichiro heard you until you noticed the grimace that flew over his face, “These times are dangerous. Death is always a threat. The Shibas are growing bolder in the southeast, and the Teranos are just waiting for their opportunity in the northwest. We-”

“Neither of them will make any real attempt so long as we’re allied with the Akashis. They fear shinobi-”

“As they should,” your voice was sharper than you intended, you forced yourself to take a breath. Soften. “It’s dangerous to trust the shinobi, the other noble clans look at us and see fools.”

“When have we ever cared about what others thought?” Shinichiro asked, eyeing you from the corner of your eye.

You let out a breath, covering a scoff, “Appearances can cause and end wars, or deter them. Perhaps you should have spent more time in Chiyo-san’s lessons than frolicking with your shinobi friends.” 

Shinichiro sent you a long look, a warning, “And what would you propose I do?” he asked, his sharp look fading into a more helpless one--changing the subject back to the issue of Manjiro and Izana. “No matter who I choose, everything will change and-”

“Nii-san, if you don’t choose and something happens to you, our family will be torn apart,” you forced yourself to keep your voice steady, ignoring the way your fingers shook as you reached your hand out to catch a spare petal falling through the air from one of the nearby cherry blossoms. “Izana-nii will never respect a decision made by the council, and we both know who the council will choose to be the next clan head if you’re unable to make the decision.”

Shinichiro let out a frustrated breath, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through his hair before dropping his hand back to his side. The council was the only reason this was even an issue--they were the ones that refused to accept Izana as an actual member of the clan despite the fact that he had been raised with the main family his entire life, had been raised thinking that he was your blood.

You cringed at the reminder. It’s ill to curse the dead, you told yourself, but you couldn’t help the vile words rise to mind when you remembered how your father had destroyed any stability the clan might have had when revealing on his deathbed that Izana was not actually his son--instead, the son of one of his mistresses and another lover of hers that he had brought in--forcing Izana from the respected position of second-in-line after Shinichiro to the black sheep of the clan, reviled and looked down upon by the other clan members for his lineage, spearheaded by the council themselves.

Another clash, a grunt, your gaze flicked from Shinichiro back to the spar at the bottom of the hill, watching as Izana barely deflected a blow from Manjiro.

“There’s no telling he would accept the decision even if I’m the one that tells him,” Shinichiro said, teeth grit, “and if…”

You tuned him out, zeroing in on his words and what they meant. He would choose Manjiro. You frowned, anxiety briefly sweeping through you as you remembered that day years ago—the blood, the screams.

“You disagree,” it wasn’t a question, you looked back up at your eldest brother, noting the curious look on his face as he regarded you, “you think Izana should be clan head.”

You opened your mouth to speak. You paused.

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

You bit your tongue and looked away.

“You can speak freely with me,” Shinichiro sighed.

You kept your mouth shut—perhaps, but not while others were around, your gaze flickered to the elders of your clan who were gathered to watch the spar several yards away. Shinichiro’s eyes followed yours, irritation swept across his face before it returned to a blank expression.

“They cause too much trouble,” he said, voice low. “make everything more difficult.”

You spared your older brother a short glance. It was true, the only one that despised the Sano council more than you was probably Izana himself. They were vicious old coots who were so stuck in the old ways that they refused to see the benefits of any other possible path, even if it could help the clan in the long run. And they were so, so unnecessarily cruel to Izana and your younger half-sister, Emma, whose mother was not only a foreigner, but a whore at that. 

Your lips tugged down at the thought of your younger sister, eyes turning to the side toward where she was standing with a few other girls her age--some of your distant cousins, if you remember correctly--underneath the shade, giggling and watching your brothers spar. 

Behind her, one of Manjiro’s retainers stood tall--Draken, the orphan from a nearby village that Manjiro had met and taken in when you all were young. Your eyes drifted around momentarily, looking for Manjiro’s second retainer but gave up quickly--Sanzu Haruchiyo was not found unless he wanted to be. You were sure you had only actually ever seen a glimpse of him once despite his years of service to Manjiro. Kakucho, Izana’s oldest friend and retainer, hovered at the edges of their spar, forehead creased in worry for his liege as he dodged another blow from Manjiro. Your thoughts turned to your own retainer briefly, wondering how he was faring but you shook your head--he would return soon.

“There’s nothing that can be done about it,” you murmured quietly, returning to the subject at him, “they have as much power and influence amongst the rest of the clan as you do, nii-san.”

And it was unfortunate, really, because Shinichiro was right, all they did was cause issues under the guise of doing what was best for the clan. But there was nothing the members of your clan valued more than tradition, acting against the council was tantamount to social suicide, even for a member of the main family like you or Manjiro, even for the clan head. 

“They’re holding us back,” Shinichiro said, “they-”

“Shin,” your voice was sharp--too sharp, again--you took a deep breath, calming yourself. Next to you, Shinichiro’s tense shoulders relaxed, his jaw unclenched. 

“You’re right,” he said quietly, even though you had said nothing more than his name, “this isn’t the place. But something is going to have to be done, one way or another. Things can’t go on like this.”

You eyed Shinichiro from the corner of your eye, lips parting to respond but paused when you heard a familiar voice sound from behind the two of you, “Sano-sama, hime.”

Your lips involuntarily tugged up as you turned to face your retainer, Haitani Rindou, taking in the bags underneath his droopy eyes as he dropped into a deep bow in front of you and Shinichiro, only rising when Shinichiro raised his hand to wave him off. Your eyes met his as he stood back up straight, giving you a small, tired smile. 

He was exhausted. 

Rindou was good at hiding how he felt--emotionally and physically--but you knew him better than that. He had been your retainer for over ten years now--since the Haitanis had waged and lost a minor war against the Bajis and sent their youngest to the Sanos as insurance that they wouldn’t try something again. Your father, while he had been living, treated Rindou as little more than a hostage, but Shinichiro treated him as a ward, entrusting him with your safety and making him your retainer, all but giving him a place in the main family, and through that, he became your closest friend.

“Rindou,” Shinichiro greeted amicably before turning his attention back toward you, “I’m going to go down the hill to speak to our brothers.”

Nodding once at Rindou, Shinichiro leaned in to press his lips against your forehead--a habit he had never quite grown out of since you were a child no matter how many times you told him that you weren’t eight anymore--before turning to walk down the hill toward Izana and Manjiro.

You turned your attention toward Haitani Rindou, instinctively reaching out to squeeze his wrist but your hand faltered, remembering where you were. Your hand dropped back to your side, gaze shifting to the side where two of the elders of your clan were talking quietly to one another, eyeing you and Rindou suspiciously.

You straightened your shoulders, soft smile dropping as you turned your attention back to Rindou ignoring the look of distaste that spread across his face as he looked at where the elders were watching the two of you. The last thing you needed was rumors spreading about you and your retainer. His gaze returned to you, lavender eyes softening as they met yours, pale hair slipping from the usually neat bun he had it tied back in.

Your eyes traced over Rindou’s form, taking in the blades sheathed at either side of his waist, the light-scaled armor decorating his body, still stained with blood.

“How did the mission go?” you asked him, walking in the direction of a nearby sakura tree, intent on standing underneath the shade, the late summer heat getting too much for your body to handle--you could feel the sweat beading at your forehead.

“Successful,” Rindou said, walking a pace behind you, one hand resting on the hilt of one of his blades. You forced yourself to keep looking forward as decorum insisted despite how much you longed to look back to make sure he was okay--he was limping, you could see that much at least from the corner of your eye. “Took longer than expected though. The tip we received ended up being a bigger plot than we had originally planned on dealing with. We weren’t able to get hard proof but we’re pretty certain that they were shinobi from the far east employed by the Tachibanas.”

Your lips twisted into a deep frown at the name. Of course it was the Tachibanas. Shinichiro started moving into the silk trade a few months ago after the Kawatas captured territory along the Sendo border. We should’ve been more prepared for this. You warned him, you-

“It’s okay,” Rindou’s voice was quieter as the two of you reached the sakura tree. It was barely cooler under the shade, but at least the sun was no longer beating down on you. Standing on the opposite side of the tree and out of sight from the more prying members of your clan, Rindou stepped closer to you, reaching out to squeeze your bicep lightly. “We took care of it, and now we know what to watch out for.”

You were not as convinced. Your clan and the other three major clans of Kanto looked down upon the Tachibanas for their lack of militaristic strength but you knew better than to look at it with such a tunneled view. The Tachibanas were dangerous but no one took them seriously because of their status as a merchant clan, and that only made them more dangerous because everybody underestimated them. 

But you knew better--the Tachibanas knew how to utilize their masses of money, and they knew how to scheme and work the webs of politics like masters of the art. The Tachibanas always got what they wanted and that terrified you. They weren’t ones that spent their coin on half-assed jobs and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else you were all missing.

“What are you thinking about?” Rindou asked, and you let out a soft breath, considering what to say but Rindou spoke again before you could choose your words, “You don’t think that was the end of it.”

And for a second, you were reminded of just how grateful you were to have Rindou in your life. He was always able to tell what you were thinking without you having to say anything, and unlike other members of your clan who doubted your intelligence because of your gender, he always took your words seriously. 

“The Tachibanas are not to be underestimated,” you murmured, “they don’t slip up. Everything they do is for a reason.”

Rindou eyed you as he took in your words, “You don’t think it’s possible that the men they hired messed up?”

“The Tachibanas do not hire amateurs,” was all you said in return and Rindou inhaled sharply, leaning back on his heels.

“I’ll mention it to the other retainers,” he promised, “we’ll keep an eye out.”

You nodded, gaze drifting back over to where Shinichiro was talking to Izana and Manjiro before bringing your eyes back to Rindou, taking note of the way he was leaning on his right side, “You’re hurt.”

Rindou grimaced, “One of the shinobi managed to land a blow on my left side where…”

… where it had never healed correctly.

You pressed your lips together, looking away, guilt pooling in your stomach as it did whenever you were reminded of that incident years ago. Rindou let out a deep breath at your reaction, “It wasn’t your fault,” he reminded you quietly, “You were just a kid-”

“So was he,” you said, voice colder than you intended as you stared down the hill toward where Manjiro was grinning up at Shinichiro, oblivious to the dark look you were sending his way.

Rindou grabbed your hand, forcing you to unfist it. You winced, not even having realized you had been fisting it tight enough that your nails were tearing through your palm.

“It’s not your fault,” he repeated, letting his hand drop back to his side, “and he doesn’t even remember what happened.”

We do though, you said to yourself, remembering how you held Rindou screaming for help, spitting foul words at Manjiro who only stared at the two of you, unperturbed; remembering how Shinichiro and Izana had come running from inside of the house at your screams; remembering how Rindou still couldn’t look Manjiro in the eyes, how his lips tightened every time your brother spoke to him, how he always kept his distance from him whenever he could.

Manjiro might not remember it but you did, Rindou did, Izana and Shinichiro did.

“Rindou,” Shinichiro called loudly and the two of you turned your attention back down the hill where Izana and Manjiro had stopped sparring, now speaking to Shinichiro instead. “Come.” 

To Rindou’s credit, he did not make an outward reaction to the request, only nodding, but as he turned back to you, you noticed the grimace that flashed across his face, “Would you like me to come down with you?” you offered, even though you knew it would gain sideways looks from the elders observing the spar--women were not meant to be directly on the training ground.

“No,” Rindou said, “Stay, it’ll only be a second. I’m sure he just wants a debrief on the mission while the three of them are together. I’ll let him know what you’re thinking while I’m down there.” 

You eyed him suspiciously but Rindou only gave you a reassuring look before turning his back to you and making his way down the hill toward your three brothers. 

You sighed, leaning your head back against the tree, shutting your eyes as you tried to figure out what exactly you should do--could do, really. There would be another meeting between the clan’s elders soon and you knew they would be pushing hard for Shinichiro to formally declare Manjiro as heir, you knew they would be pushing hard for Shinichiro to find a wife and have his own heirs, and you knew that they would be pushing hard to marry you off to the Shibas of the southeast or the Teranos of the northwest. 

You nearly cringed at the thought.

It’s your duty, you reminded yourself. The only thing you could do as a woman to help further the clan was marry into a different clan to forge stronger alliances, create more intricate networks of information.

But you hated it. You did. You didn’t want to be sold off to the Shibas, much less the Teranos, both of whose clan head’s were notorious for rash acts of violence.

It could prevent war, you’re being selfish, the rational part of you screamed. The Teranos were just waiting for the opportunity to invade Sano territory and the Shibas were already pushing into Mitsuya lands, and you knew that a union between the clans through marriage might lessen tensions but…

but it also might not. The Teranos and Shibas cared for little more than territory expansion, the elders hoped that by marrying you off to one of them, they would back off Sano territory--as tradition dictates, but the Teranos and Shibas were both young clans that did not strictly adhere to the ancient laws. There was a high chance they would accept the proposal and then use you as a hostage to force Shinichiro into a corner but the elders refused to see that possibility.

They were arrogant. It would cost your clan everything, you knew it.

And you could do better for the clan here, you knew that, Shin knew that and it was the only reason why he continued to ignore the elders’ incessant demands of having you meet with the clan heads. But he could only put it off for so long, you were well past the age most women got married already.

You wanted to scream, and cry, and force the elders to see reason but you couldn’t.

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. 

Sometimes, you wished-

Your thoughts were cut off, eyes shooting open as a chill ran down your spine. 

Something was wrong.

You could feel it in your bones. Your gaze ripped from the sky above down to the bottom of the hill where your retainer and three brothers were still standing and talking. 

You watched, slowly, as Rindou’s eyes turned toward you; you watched as a strange expression crossed over Manjiro’s face, as if he too could sense something was wrong, looking up the hill in your direction; and you watched as Izana, who was already facing your direction, shoved Shinichiro out of the way as he moved in your direction, an expression you had never quite seen before decorating his face--fear.

Directed toward you?

You blinked, distantly, you heard Manjiro shout your name but you were more focused on the rustling from either side of you. 

Your head turned too slow. You barely caught the movement on your left from the corner of your eye. 

A rush of dark clothing, a glint of silver. 

Shinobi.

thinking about heartbreak with my favorite boys: ft. haitani ran, sanzu haruchiyo, haitani rindou

ran, who never thought he would experience heartbreak because he refused to let anyone get through the steep walls he had thrown up around his heart. until you, at least, though he hadn’t realized it until he found himself grinning like a fool at his phone every time you messaged, until he found himself being disappointed every time he got a notification that wasn’t a text from you. and it terrified him. it terrified him so much that he started pushing you away, missing dates to go out clubbing with rindou and haruchiyo, staying late at work instead of meeting you at your apartment, replying to your texts hours later, if at all. he couldn’t come to terms with the fact that you had managed to slip through all of his defenses and it had him dizzy and reeling as he tried to figure out what to do. but it took too long, and when he distanced himself from you without explanation, you didn’t wait. by the time he managed to accept it, you had long moved on, leaving him behind. and he was going to reach out again, to apologize at the very least—he really, really was—but when he saw you out at a cafe smiling and laughing with another man, for once in his life, haitani ran’s confidence shattered and he found himself walking back the way he had came, jaw clenched tight and fingers trembling from where they were stuffed in his pockets. and it was crazy, really, how even months after he lost you, he found himself wandering to all of the places he used to take you in his free time, all of the places that you loved—the very same places that he avoided so actively when he still had you.

haruchiyo, who never knew what it was like to love someone so completely, and be loved so completely, before he met you. who knew he wasn’t good for you, but was too selfish to let go. haruchiyo, who loved you maybe a bit too much and didn’t realize he was suffocating you until you were backing away, telling him that the two of you needed some time apart, and even though he disagreed, the thought of spending any time away from you leaving a sour taste in his mouth, he nodded his head because he was scared that if he didn’t, he’d lose you forever. and he waited, he waited every single day for you to message him again but you didn’t. the end of the break never came and he found himself spending his nights scrolling through all of your texts with him trying to figure out where the fuck he had gone so wrong.

and rindou, who had never genuinely been loved for himself until he met you. who was used to being in his brother’s shadow, the second choice, all of his life. who hadn’t even realized how low his sense of self worth had dropped because even he had fallen for the arrogant facade he had thrown up to hide himself from public eye—who hadn’t realized it, that is, until one of your first nights together when you batted his hands away when he tried lay you back, instead laying him back and running your lips along every inch of his skin, telling him how much you love him, why you loved him and he found himself throwing his arm over his face to hide the tears that were rapidly building in his eyes. your separation had been gradual, an impending doom that he could sense coming from a mile away but it didn’t prepare himself for the actual confrontation. he didn’t bother begging or pleading, he knew you well enough to know that once you made a decision, you would stick with it. and he missed you, god he missed you every fucking day, staring at pictures that he couldn’t bring himself to delete, and every night he went to sleep praying that he woke up to a message from you, figuring out that it was all just some sick nightmare his mind made up. but every morning he woke up and his heart felt heavy when there were no new notifications. and it hurt, he was sure that nothing hurt more than losing the person you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with but at the very least, he could thank you for helping him realize his self worth

Seguir leyendo

url change! reblogs appreciated ❤︎

incoming tr matchup…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @messxworld

mess + naoto

naoto is another one where you’re the sunshine to his gloom

but also, best friend’s brother

you two met through hinata

naoto wasn’t surprised to meet someone who matched his sister’s energy

what did surprise him so much was how taken he became with you

your warmth was a different kind of comfort than the one he got from his sister

and your smile, he would give you the world to keep you smiling so brightly

hinata saw it right away of course

she knew naoto was smitten before he knew it

being the nosey big sister she is, she set the two of you up

she got an earful from naoto when he showed up to the blind date to find you waiting for him

at the end of his scolding he let out a quiet thank you before hanging up and enjoying the rest of his night with you

jjk matchup here

IN LOVE WITH THE PUSSY !!

—› notes. self indulgent with my top three n also a little smth for draken <3

—› ft. draken, mitsuya, hakkai

—› cw. pussydrunk men, oral, afab! reader, dumbification, face riding, cumming untouched, overstimulation, cnc? (just in case)

not proofread. 18+ only. minors, blank, ageless blogs dni

DRAKEN

menace. pussydrunk. pussywhipped. he cannot stand being away from your messy cunt, webbed hole all twitchy and creamy with cum when he makes you cum three times in a row with just eager strokes of his tongue, lapping up your sweet juices because you really taste that good, and he really can’t find it in himself to stop when you quiver and buck your hips, close to riding his face above him.

he loves when you sit on his face, loves the full weight of you all on him. it gets him hard just like that. makes a dewdrop of precum bead at his tip before it grows and runs down his shaft that’s branched out with big, throbbing veins.

the feel of his senses being smothered by your cunt is like heaven to him.

the taste of nectar, sweet and creamy, on his tongue as your pussy cries and gushes slick, draken almost thinks he’s drinking honey straight from your puffy folds. but you don’t reciprocate the sentiment as you try to lift them away from him, so he has to wrap his strong arms around your waist, forearms resting on your plush thighs, just to pull you down and keep you there.

he loves the way your tiny hole twitches as it creams gloopy cum that drops and fills his mouth perfectly. likes it even better when you convulse and thrash around on top of him, tugging at his hair and limping against his headboard since you can’t hold yourself up anymore and putting all of your weight on him anyway. then you have no choice but to take his tongue rubbing and prodding at your puffy clit, breaching your walls and stretching you out the tiniest bit to lick along your sweet spot, jabbing at spongy, ribbed walls.

and god the smell of your freshly creamed cunt makes his head dizzy and his cock throb, makes the fire in his loins burn brighter that he bucks his hips, swirls and rolls them out of habit because his heavy, neglected dick remembers the squeeze and clamp of your walls that’s currently on his tongue.

MITSUYA

while you’re sobbing and convulsing beneath him, blabbering anything that crosses your stupid, little, fucked out head, that is when mitsuya likes you best. which happens more often than you think because you’re a naive and trusting little thing to believe in the soft glaze of his eyes, lovestruck and adoring, in the gentle touches of his careful hands—that are guiding you right into the palm of his hands, right under your nose.

you’re foolish enough to believe in the dulcet coos of his warm voice that makes your head foggy with praise and adoration and love.

(mitsuya might love you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wanna ruin you.)

so like that, soft coos of your name, tender praises of your compliance makes your head foggy with love and obedience as you walk right into his grasp, and then he doesn’t let you go. which is where you find yourself now, knees bent at your chest, legs spread, him laying on his stomach, face hovering above your slicked slit, rosy folds puffy and fluttering as your nth climax rushes over you.

his strong, calloused hands are flat against the under fat of your plush thighs, lithe fingers digging crescents into your skin. fat, salty tears run free down your eyes, blurring your vision, and the back to back orgasms without a break constricts your breathing, makes it run continuously and irregularly, which causes you to have a bad case of the hiccups.

you’re tired and exhausted, and most of all shy as mitsuya laps at your creaming cunt with a ferocity befitting a criminal eating his last meal. a rough tongue strokes against your lips and puffy clit, occasionally breaching your entrance to slurp up the ongoing stream of your slick.

your pussy is messy, sloppy as you bury your face in your hands to prevent the icy gaze of mitsuya’s dark lilac eyes on you, watching each tick, each scrunch of your brows, each gasp and moan and mewl and wince, the tiny hiccups sprinkled within.

his eyes feel scary on you, makes you feel like he’s going to keep doing this until he has his fill observing your descent into post-orgasm agony.

his fingers are tight as they keep your legs open, no matter how hard you try to close them or pull away. “keep that pretty girl open for me baby. ‘m not done with you yet.” he says in warning as he kisses your sensitive nub before sealing his lips over it and sucking.

your eyes roll back, and you see white as the small flutter in your stomach grows stronger, and you feel your walls spasm. liquid squirts and you convulse before your mind blanks.

HAKKAI

this sweet boy is limp underneath you, hands weakly clutched on to your hips, tongue slow as it laps over your slit, occasionally rolling against your engorged clit, jaw stiff and locked as his mouth hangs open.

he was enthusiastic at the start, tongue strong and fast as it stroked your puffy folds, breaching your hole to gather more juices into his mouth to have it pool on his tongue, but eventually the smother of your heady cunt struck him, fogged his head into a stupid mess of paralyzing arousal, and now he just lays there as you rock your hips to make your clit catch against his tongue, flat and sticking out of his lips, slit sloppy as it rubs against the thick muscle.

“you’re doing so good for me ‘kai. so good. ‘m gonna cum soon.” and when you mewl your praises to him like that, he can’t help the automatic way his tongue slithers inside your walls again, so you could ride it, or the way he tilts his head down to prolong his nose to hit against your nub.

as you rut your hips on his face, cunt riding his tongue as he tries his best to curl it to your sweet spot, a band in his stomach comes close to snapping along with his throbbing dick that’s leaking precum like a faucet to his twitching balls.

when you cum, walls clamping down on his tongue, gush of nectar falling right into his awaiting mouth, the band snaps. his hips buck up behind you, and you think he’s just searching for friction, so you don’t pay it any mind, but when you lean back to allow him some air, there’s a puddle of white on his toned stomach that your hand lands in, shaft still jumping as more spurts of white shoot from his cockslit, balls snapping in time with each spurt of cum.

“oh.”

you shakily lift yourself from his face, tongue popping out of your hole, sticky slivers of cream glued to hakkai’s chin, a shiny sheen of slick against his cherry red, swollen lips, and chin, and despite the mess you made on him, or the way your pussy flooded his smell and mouth, his head lifts to follow your enchanting hole that he wants back on his tongue desperately, but it falls back down, and he moans when a soft hand circles his thick cock, slowly starting to pump it, lathering up the remnants of his orgasm to provide a smoother glide.

and hakkai forgets about your pussy.

post a/n. goddamn my clit was throbbing so hard during draken’s part. free me of that man. wrote this all with my pussy

tagz. @bxnten @tokyomanjihoe @kisakiapologist @bokuroskitten @tokyometronetwork + from taglist: @festive , @inupi , @thevillagehiddenintheinternet , @ray-lol , @ry0m3n , @sleepy3 (let me know if you would like to be taken off!)