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[no-saints-around-here]

I read Quiet Afternoon and I got to thinking, it says “tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.” Does this mean this is the first time Rindo has slept with bestie? If not, what was the first time/incident that caused Rindo to sleep with airhead best friend?

Masterlist | Quiet Afternoon

ahhh this became a lot longer then I anticipated - wrote a short fic at the bottom cause I thought it would explain what happened much better than just word vomit!

‎‎

To answer the question first: no. Its not Rindo's first time, not by a long shot.

That line is more so that Rindo is a delusional and unreliable narrator when it comes to his bestie: that is delusional and unreliable on a good day, and straight up in denial on having even held hands with you, let alone touched you, on a bad one. And this is also when this boy is at his most dangerous, willing to do anything to anyone, Ran included, to prove to himself that he was your best friend and nothing more, that you were still his sweet, naive, innocent airhead who he found especially annoying.

If you squint really hard at the implications of Rindo installing a soundproof door on his first day of moving into Bonten HQ, together with how well this boy already knows your body and your patterns by the time of the events of Quiet Afternoon, you may be able to infer that its definitely not your first tango, even if Rindo insists it is (no sweat if you didn't though, it was really very, very subtle on purpose).

And no one knows this fact better than Ran, given the older Haitani was the precise reason your purple-haired Bonten friend first broke rank against his better sense.

Rindo’s breaking point came sometime during your stardom period. All started going downhill when he reluctantly allowed you to continue to perform as an idol against his judgement on the basis of just how happy it made you - it had always been hard for this baby boy to deny you anything you wanted, and fresh out of another stint in jail, the delinquent-turn-yakuza was eager to make up for his time away from you. And this was on top of the weak spot he always had for your pouting, so no surprise that he caves as soon as you started to look the slightest bit down about having to leave your little gig so quickly after starting.

One of the caveats he does put in place in exchange for indulging you is that he is now personally in charge of your security, and that the rest of your bodyguards were from Bonten. No exceptions. Absolutely does not trust your ‘agency’ or whatever other maggots that you choose to surround yourself with, and so will take it upon himself to accompany you everywhere, to stand guard outside your changing room when he absolutely couldn’t be inside with you, fly with you everywhere you go. But of course this also means that he has to take time off work to do so, and that meant convincing Mikey to let him do so. Ran finds it amusing to what length his younger brother will go to keep you by his side (cough begging and grovelling in front of Mikey), promising that you could help to launder their money and what not. Mikey honestly couldn’t care even a lick, as long as Rindo takes the work in whatever country he ends up in.

Yet for all that he has done for you, the honeymoon period lasts only a good 6 months before everything fell apart. Rindo thought he had a good handle on things, but never has he been so under-prepared when it finally strikes your best friend just how massively popular you had become in such a short period. Everywhere you went, no matter where you toured, your concerts were all full, stuffed to the brim with fans. And oh how he detested that word.

Fans. Rabid, like mad dogs. Decked out in merchandise bearing your face and name, screaming at the stage hoping for even a smudge of your attention. even coming to the concert venue early hoping to get a glimpse of you.

Scum of the earth, how dare they ask for more than getting to breathe the same air as you?

How dare they demand more?!

The resentment of your adoring masses only built up more and more in Rindo, having to watch from the sidelines as you enthusiastically shook hands and thanked your fans for your support, dancing for them and winking at them. Like you were some sort of whore putting yourself on show for the world. Rindo would never stand for this, not for his best friend, yet he still gritted his teeth; for reasons beyond him, you were enjoying this, enjoying shaking your ass and chest at the unwashed insects.

And then all hell finally broke loose upon one of your returns to Japan after another of your tours.

‎‎

‎‎

All Downhill from Here

"Let. Me. Go," Rindo hissed as he was manhandled away from the still buzzing arrival hall by a rather amused Ran, his twisting and struggling to break free from the other’s grasp to no avail. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him, and then I'll kill you."

The older Haitani sighed as he continued to force his younger brother along the otherwise empty corridor. "And that is precisely why we are in this situation."

And as usual, to none of their surprise, you were at the center of it all, though your airheaded presence that Rindo’s world revolved around was nowhere in sight, having already been sent ahead to the meeting point without your best friend’s knowledge. The hallway echoed with the clicks of their shoes, joined occasionally by the buzz of machinery as they passed and the hum of air-conditioning overhead. If he had known what the day was going to bring, Ran mused, he would have proposed doing this from the start; after all, airport staff were easier to disperse and keep away compared to the hordes of fans that you attract everywhere you go, and these staff corridors were rather convenient, snaking throughout the airport and away from the public eye. 

Rindo’s cursing and swearing went in one ear and out the other as Ran continued to daydream, though the man couldn’t quite blame his unusually hot-tempered younger brother either. After all, it had been the continuous build up of months of stress, having to deal with you and your little idol gig that you insisted you wanted to keep, and this latest incident was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A huff as Rindo finally gave up on his failed escape, his shoulders relaxing in the armlock he had been held in for the past fifteen minutes.

Ran raised an eyebrow. “You done?”

”Yeah. Let me go.”

“You sure?”

”Fuck you, I’ll get that shitstain later.”

Which was exactly what the older of the brothers wanted to hear, Ran nodding as he released Rindo without another word. Shitstain was putting it lightly in his opinion, considering how much trouble he had caused in the span of a single minute - but it wasn’t his problem to solve. As long as Rindo wasn’t attempting to pull a gun in front of the police and the public to settle his little lover’s quarrel, Ran couldn’t quite care what happened to another nobody.

Ran jerked his chin down the corridor. “She’s two doors down to the right. Security escorted her there earlier.” The room was already demarcated as yours, what with two Bonten grunts flanking each side, but he thought it would be better to make it clear, given Rindo’s state of mind. 

His younger brother was already gone before he could finish his sentence, and all Ran received as a thank you for his hard work was the slam of the door.

Ah, siblings.

‎‎

‎‎

Rindo didn’t quite see it as lightly as Ran did. 

This past day had already been particularly hellish for him by any standard measurement. It all started with the last concert of your first tour two nights ago - he had been watching from backstage, as he always did, when your skirt had ripped during your second song. The sound of cloth tearing reached his ears even over the sound of the throbbing music. He had confirmed as much when you finally returned to him waiting for you in the dressing room during the intermission, which only sealed the suspicions that churned in his sinking gut: at just the right angle, you would have flashed the fans in the first few rows, his wretched older brother seated in the VIP box included. Even if he had made you put on a new, longer skirt, it was already too late. 

And then when he had tried to drill into you about the importance of keeping your distance from those lowlives least you catch something nasty, you hadn’t taken his concerns quite as seriously as he had hoped, laughing and beaming back at him, patting his hand reassuringly and trying to convince him that they were harmless. Strike 1.

He didn’t know what he expected, Rindo had to admit to himself; you had always been such an airhead, even since childhood when he first met you. You probably wouldn’t even have survived for so long if the younger Haitani hadn’t take you under his wing as his best friend, and the least you could do to pay him back was to listen to him. All he asked was for you to stay close to him and far away from everyone else, especially Ran.

Sure, there were times like this where Rindo would be forced to allow Ran to inhabit the same space as you - seeing as his older brother had attended your concert and similarly happened to be heading back to Bonten HQ, the three of you had to share the jet - but of all the people to turn up cheekly waving merchandise with your face and name plastered all over? Well, he did say that you were one of the best he’s seen in a while, but still. The man with the short purple hair did it on purpose, Rindo was certain, and definitely to trigger an outburst from him; if you hadn’t been present, he would have strangled Ran himself for bringing up how good you looked on stage (now he was certain Ran saw your panty flashing). Strike 2.

‎

It was without a doubt that your best friend was already rather on edge as the jet finally landed back in Tokyo. It was supposed to be a secret when you would arrive, which meant that there were fans behind barricades eagerly awaiting your appearance outside the airport. Sure, fine. You were famous, whatever, Rindo could hardly bother. But what broke his dam was a single unruly fan. One man, decked out from head to toe in merchandise spouting your name and face, who had decided for very clear, unacceptable reasons to jump the fence in an attempt to ambush you. And the vein that had been throbbing on Rindo’s forehead all day finally burst. Strike 3.

If Ran hadn’t been a second faster to grip and restrain his hand, Rindo would have shot him dead before security could grab the assailant. 

And the missed opportunity continued to haunt him despite thirty minutes having already passed and nothing having happened to you, the sheer anger he had felt in that moment surging through his veins once more as Rindo stalked down the corridor, leaving Ran to talk at his back. Sure, he was going to arrange to have that scum erased, yet the upcoming torture wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves. Because how dare he? How dare that unworthy insect you called a fan even think of laying a finger on you? 

And then the heartstopping fear that chilled him to his bones that followed - what about you?

Throwing open the door and seeing your back turned to him only reinforced his sudden onset of fear, the closing of the door behind him reverberating in his ears. You were too naive, too stupid to think beyond your next meal, but what if there was someone else in the picture? Could it be that you had laughed away his concerns earlier because someone else told you so? Could it be that you continued to indulge others because you were being influenced? Could it be?

It had to be, Rindo gulped, as you finally acknowledged him, standing from your small seat and waving eagerly. Someone must have gotten to you while he was locked away in prison, brainwashing you into abandoning him and running off with them. Or worse, with Ran.

He couldn’t hear any of the words you were speaking at him, trapped in the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, his body numb as you tugged him over to the small comfy corner that the airport staff had set up for you. 

Nothing went in, Rindo staring blankly at you, though you seemed to have failed to notice your friend’s inaction until you tried to get his attention. 

”-n! Rin-rin!! Hello?”

The Bonten executive blinked, awakening to your curious face taking up his entire view. 

“Rin-rinnnnn.”

Rindo simply stood suddenly, forcing you to back away, though a beam quickly replaced your surprised expression. A quick glance around the room told him that it was empty of cameras, and he was certain enough that the grunts outside had ensured as much - they were, after all, the ones who would pay with their lives should the police ever become involved. “Bend over the table and pull down your skirt,” he ordered, though he didn’t wait for you to register his instruction, instead already moving to gently guide you.

He had to make sure that you knew who you belonged to, and no matter how much your best friend dreaded what he was going to do to you next, it was necessary. You couldn’t be trusted to know up from down, let alone keep yourself safe and away from those who wanted to do your harm. From those who wanted to see you separated from him.

“Okay!” You cheerfully agreed. “What are we doing?”

Needless to say, this fateful day was the start of the end of your career as an idol. You had a good run while it lasted.

[no-saints-around-here]

I read Quiet Afternoon and I got to thinking, it says “tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.” Does this mean this is the first time Rindo has slept with bestie? If not, what was the first time/incident that caused Rindo to sleep with airhead best friend?

Masterlist | Quiet Afternoon

ahhh this became a lot longer then I anticipated - wrote a short fic at the bottom cause I thought it would explain what happened much better than just word vomit!

‎‎

To answer the question first: no. Its not Rindo's first time, not by a long shot.

That line is more so that Rindo is a delusional and unreliable narrator when it comes to his bestie: that is delusional and unreliable on a good day, and straight up in denial on having even held hands with you, let alone touched you, on a bad one. And this is also when this boy is at his most dangerous, willing to do anything to anyone, Ran included, to prove to himself that he was your best friend and nothing more, that you were still his sweet, naive, innocent airhead who he found especially annoying.

If you squint really hard at the implications of Rindo installing a soundproof door on his first day of moving into Bonten HQ, together with how well this boy already knows your body and your patterns by the time of the events of Quiet Afternoon, you may be able to infer that its definitely not your first tango, even if Rindo insists it is (no sweat if you didn't though, it was really very, very subtle on purpose).

And no one knows this fact better than Ran, given the older Haitani was the precise reason your purple-haired Bonten friend first broke rank against his better sense.

Rindo’s breaking point came sometime during your stardom period. All started going downhill when he reluctantly allowed you to continue to perform as an idol against his judgement on the basis of just how happy it made you - it had always been hard for this baby boy to deny you anything you wanted, and fresh out of another stint in jail, the delinquent-turn-yakuza was eager to make up for his time away from you. And this was on top of the weak spot he always had for your pouting, so no surprise that he caves as soon as you started to look the slightest bit down about having to leave your little gig so quickly after starting.

One of the caveats he does put in place in exchange for indulging you is that he is now personally in charge of your security, and that the rest of your bodyguards were from Bonten. No exceptions. Absolutely does not trust your ‘agency’ or whatever other maggots that you choose to surround yourself with, and so will take it upon himself to accompany you everywhere, to stand guard outside your changing room when he absolutely couldn’t be inside with you, fly with you everywhere you go. But of course this also means that he has to take time off work to do so, and that meant convincing Mikey to let him do so. Ran finds it amusing to what length his younger brother will go to keep you by his side (cough begging and grovelling in front of Mikey), promising that you could help to launder their money and what not. Mikey honestly couldn’t care even a lick, as long as Rindo takes the work in whatever country he ends up in.

Yet for all that he has done for you, the honeymoon period lasts only a good 6 months before everything fell apart. Rindo thought he had a good handle on things, but never has he been so under-prepared when it finally strikes your best friend just how massively popular you had become in such a short period. Everywhere you went, no matter where you toured, your concerts were all full, stuffed to the brim with fans. And oh how he detested that word.

Fans. Rabid, like mad dogs. Decked out in merchandise bearing your face and name, screaming at the stage hoping for even a smudge of your attention. even coming to the concert venue early hoping to get a glimpse of you.

Scum of the earth, how dare they ask for more than getting to breathe the same air as you?

How dare they demand more?!

The resentment of your adoring masses only built up more and more in Rindo, having to watch from the sidelines as you enthusiastically shook hands and thanked your fans for your support, dancing for them and winking at them. Like you were some sort of whore putting yourself on show for the world. Rindo would never stand for this, not for his best friend, yet he still gritted his teeth; for reasons beyond him, you were enjoying this, enjoying shaking your ass and chest at the unwashed insects.

And then all hell finally broke loose upon one of your returns to Japan after another of your tours.

‎‎

‎‎

All Downhill from Here

"Let. Me. Go," Rindo hissed as he was manhandled away from the still buzzing arrival hall by a rather amused Ran, his twisting and struggling to break free from the other’s grasp to no avail. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him, and then I'll kill you."

The older Haitani sighed as he continued to force his younger brother along the otherwise empty corridor. "And that is precisely why we are in this situation."

And as usual, to none of their surprise, you were at the center of it all, though your airheaded presence that Rindo’s world revolved around was nowhere in sight, having already been sent ahead to the meeting point without your best friend’s knowledge. The hallway echoed with the clicks of their shoes, joined occasionally by the buzz of machinery as they passed and the hum of air-conditioning overhead. If he had known what the day was going to bring, Ran mused, he would have proposed doing this from the start; after all, airport staff were easier to disperse and keep away compared to the hordes of fans that you attract everywhere you go, and these staff corridors were rather convenient, snaking throughout the airport and away from the public eye. 

Rindo’s cursing and swearing went in one ear and out the other as Ran continued to daydream, though the man couldn’t quite blame his unusually hot-tempered younger brother either. After all, it had been the continuous build up of months of stress, having to deal with you and your little idol gig that you insisted you wanted to keep, and this latest incident was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A huff as Rindo finally gave up on his failed escape, his shoulders relaxing in the armlock he had been held in for the past fifteen minutes.

Ran raised an eyebrow. “You done?”

”Yeah. Let me go.”

“You sure?”

”Fuck you, I’ll get that shitstain later.”

Which was exactly what the older of the brothers wanted to hear, Ran nodding as he released Rindo without another word. Shitstain was putting it lightly in his opinion, considering how much trouble he had caused in the span of a single minute - but it wasn’t his problem to solve. As long as Rindo wasn’t attempting to pull a gun in front of the police and the public to settle his little lover’s quarrel, Ran couldn’t quite care what happened to another nobody.

Ran jerked his chin down the corridor. “She’s two doors down to the right. Security escorted her there earlier.” The room was already demarcated as yours, what with two Bonten grunts flanking each side, but he thought it would be better to make it clear, given Rindo’s state of mind. 

His younger brother was already gone before he could finish his sentence, and all Ran received as a thank you for his hard work was the slam of the door.

Ah, siblings.

‎‎

‎‎

Rindo didn’t quite see it as lightly as Ran did. 

This past day had already been particularly hellish for him by any standard measurement. It all started with the last concert of your first tour two nights ago - he had been watching from backstage, as he always did, when your skirt had ripped during your second song. The sound of cloth tearing reached his ears even over the sound of the throbbing music. He had confirmed as much when you finally returned to him waiting for you in the dressing room during the intermission, which only sealed the suspicions that churned in his sinking gut: at just the right angle, you would have flashed the fans in the first few rows, his wretched older brother seated in the VIP box included. Even if he had made you put on a new, longer skirt, it was already too late. 

And then when he had tried to drill into you about the importance of keeping your distance from those lowlives least you catch something nasty, you hadn’t taken his concerns quite as seriously as he had hoped, laughing and beaming back at him, patting his hand reassuringly and trying to convince him that they were harmless. Strike 1.

He didn’t know what he expected, Rindo had to admit to himself; you had always been such an airhead, even since childhood when he first met you. You probably wouldn’t even have survived for so long if the younger Haitani hadn’t take you under his wing as his best friend, and the least you could do to pay him back was to listen to him. All he asked was for you to stay close to him and far away from everyone else, especially Ran.

Sure, there were times like this where Rindo would be forced to allow Ran to inhabit the same space as you - seeing as his older brother had attended your concert and similarly happened to be heading back to Bonten HQ, the three of you had to share the jet - but of all the people to turn up cheekly waving merchandise with your face and name plastered all over? Well, he did say that you were one of the best he’s seen in a while, but still. The man with the short purple hair did it on purpose, Rindo was certain, and definitely to trigger an outburst from him; if you hadn’t been present, he would have strangled Ran himself for bringing up how good you looked on stage (now he was certain Ran saw your panty flashing). Strike 2.

‎

It was without a doubt that your best friend was already rather on edge as the jet finally landed back in Tokyo. It was supposed to be a secret when you would arrive, which meant that there were fans behind barricades eagerly awaiting your appearance outside the airport. Sure, fine. You were famous, whatever, Rindo could hardly bother. But what broke his dam was a single unruly fan. One man, decked out from head to toe in merchandise spouting your name and face, who had decided for very clear, unacceptable reasons to jump the fence in an attempt to ambush you. And the vein that had been throbbing on Rindo’s forehead all day finally burst. Strike 3.

If Ran hadn’t been a second faster to grip and restrain his hand, Rindo would have shot him dead before security could grab the assailant. 

And the missed opportunity continued to haunt him despite thirty minutes having already passed and nothing having happened to you, the sheer anger he had felt in that moment surging through his veins once more as Rindo stalked down the corridor, leaving Ran to talk at his back. Sure, he was going to arrange to have that scum erased, yet the upcoming torture wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves. Because how dare he? How dare that unworthy insect you called a fan even think of laying a finger on you? 

And then the heartstopping fear that chilled him to his bones that followed - what about you?

Throwing open the door and seeing your back turned to him only reinforced his sudden onset of fear, the closing of the door behind him reverberating in his ears. You were too naive, too stupid to think beyond your next meal, but what if there was someone else in the picture? Could it be that you had laughed away his concerns earlier because someone else told you so? Could it be that you continued to indulge others because you were being influenced? Could it be?

It had to be, Rindo gulped, as you finally acknowledged him, standing from your small seat and waving eagerly. Someone must have gotten to you while he was locked away in prison, brainwashing you into abandoning him and running off with them. Or worse, with Ran.

He couldn’t hear any of the words you were speaking at him, trapped in the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, his body numb as you tugged him over to the small comfy corner that the airport staff had set up for you. 

Nothing went in, Rindo staring blankly at you, though you seemed to have failed to notice your friend’s inaction until you tried to get his attention. 

”-n! Rin-rin!! Hello?”

The Bonten executive blinked, awakening to your curious face taking up his entire view. 

“Rin-rinnnnn.”

Rindo simply stood suddenly, forcing you to back away, though a beam quickly replaced your surprised expression. A quick glance around the room told him that it was empty of cameras, and he was certain enough that the grunts outside had ensured as much - they were, after all, the ones who would pay with their lives should the police ever become involved. “Bend over the table and pull down your skirt,” he ordered, though he didn’t wait for you to register his instruction, instead already moving to gently guide you.

He had to make sure that you knew who you belonged to, and no matter how much your best friend dreaded what he was going to do to you next, it was necessary. You couldn’t be trusted to know up from down, let alone keep yourself safe and away from those who wanted to do your harm. From those who wanted to see you separated from him.

“Okay!” You cheerfully agreed. “What are we doing?”

Needless to say, this fateful day was the start of the end of your career as an idol. You had a good run while it lasted.

[no-saints-around-here]

Yesterday's Cage for Tomorrow's Prison: Chapter 1

Yandere Shiba Family, Yandere Sano Family with BabyShibaSister!Reader

Masterlist

‎‎

heavily inspired by @sinreader 's Promise, and many thanks to @trashybandit for the bigbrain ideas!

tw: heavy incest, pseudo incest, explicit smut, yandere, drugging, sexual assault, heretic religious themes, afab reader, female pronouns, dead dove do not eat

“Our Father who art in Heaven.” His words bounced off the ornately decorated walls of the church, echoing back amidst the crackle of flickering lit candles dancing carefree atop their wax prison. At this time of night, it was only his single large figure that towered over the pews, his head of slicked-back blue hair bowed respectfully in prayer. Despite it not being Christmas quite yet, Taiju found himself having wandered back to the familiar, comforting environment of this holy place. Maybe it was in search of divine guidance through these difficult times, or perhaps it was somewhere he could think and ponder without distraction; God only knew he could use whatever help he could get.

Silence fell once more back over the otherwise lifeless building, blanketing the atmosphere with a heavy grandeur as the figure of an angel simply watched on from the altar, stone eyes devoid of any mercy of the inner turmoil Taiju was going through. The man sighed, dropping his clasped hands, yellow tiger-like eyes turned up towards the ceiling, a silent plea to the heavens. Where to even start? 

You were gone, missing from the penthouse he had called home ever since he had parted ways with Hakkai and Yuzuha twelve years ago. You - their baby sister, the single knot left that still held their broken family together - had vanished during his watch, and had failed to turn back up at the Shiba family home like you usually did. You, the only reason why your three older siblings were still in contact despite everything that checkered their past, the one person they would move the sun to keep you safe and secluded away from the harsh outside, the sole being Taiju held above all else in his heart right next to God. 

And you had abandoned him. Left him and his protection for a godless world. A dark and violent reality.

“Forgive me, Lord, for it has been a-” His usually formidable voice cracked, though the hitch in his tone was quickly swallowed. “A long day.”

The soft silk scarf wrapped around large shoulders was lightly perfumed with the fragrance you always wore, the gentle scent only serving to remind him of your equally kind touch. The last of the Shiba siblings to be born, Taiju had been the one to raise you from the beginning, though you were spoiled rotten by all your older siblings. And having promised his mother on her deathbed to always watch over you, he had always allowed you to do as you will, with you never once having been the target of his discipline. Was it his softness towards you that led you to decide to rebel? Was it his reluctance to ever discipline you like he did Yuzuha and Hakkai? Were you taking advantage of his continued goodwill?

Tai-nii! Up! The memory of your giggle from a time past reverberated in his ears, and if Taiju closed his eyes, he could still see a younger, tinier you - arms raised towards your oldest brother, insisting on being picked on and swung onto those broad shoulders. Your chubby, happy face as you dug into a burger he had bought for you, stopping to offer your big brother a bite of what was supposed to be your treat. Tai-nii, stop moving! You’re going to ruin it! Adorable doe eyes that held all the innocence of a lamb furrowed in concentration as you braided his blue-streaked hair into many tiny braids as he laid there and let you thread flowers right before his gang meeting. And any anger towards you that had begun to surge up into his chest instantly melted away, replaced with a nagging emptiness that felt wrong. He needed to find you, and soon.

But where could you have gone?  “She’s out there, all alone. Cold, hungry, dirty-”

That was an answer he still lacked after a week despite his best efforts, though perhaps all the search parties he had sent out would not return empty-handed this time. After all, Yuzuha, Hakkai and him had been so careful that you were allowed to see, meet and know all your life - he couldn’t think of anyone that you would be able to seek shelter with off the bat.

All his life, every second he had watched over you, your oldest brother had worked so hard to keep you pure, both of mind and body; it was what any good Christian father would have done for you as the Bible had demanded within its blessed pages, and in the absence of their own who was too busy working, Taiju had done it in his stead. And you had been so good for him as well when you were younger, listening obediently to everything he told you and learning eagerly from the person you looked up to the most in all the world, that bright and unsullied gaze filling him with joy. But then you grew up, and with your growth came the questions. The doubt. 

“Tainted.”

He couldn’t keep you home from school, not without arousing unwanted interest from the authorities, but with every passing day, Taiju could only watch as your once pure eyes were clouded over. Fouled, dirtied by filth spewed forth from dirtbags. He had tried his best to keep them away from you in the only way he knew how; the blood of sinners that coated his hands, that splattered across his face and stained his clothes was a low price to pay to warn everyone else away from you. Yet you still continued to stray from the light slowly but surely, first asking why you couldn't watch the television, to why your siblings were so insistent on keeping you at home and in sight when everyone else could ‘go and hang out with friends’, and then slowly progressing to why they were 'ruining your life’. 

Sighing, Taiju stood, dusting off and adjusting his tailor-made suit, handcrafted Italian shoes barely making a sound as the giant of a man made his way across carpeted floors towards the empty altar. It hurt him as much as it hurt you, but he was just doing what was best for his baby sister. Coming to a pause right before the wooden candle-laden table, those beastly eyes turned up longing to gaze upon the angel sculpture. Virtuous, sinfree, divine; you were once his little angel. “I pray that you lead me to my lost lamb, Lord, like how you shepherd your flock to the promised lands.”

‎‎

Despite all his protection, you just kept getting older by the day, and the day that he caught the gazes of scum lingering on your behind as he walked you out from the Shiba family compound was the day Taiju had had enough; mere beatings dished out to your unwelcomed company weren’t going to keep you on the right path. The time had come to solve the problem at the root. And even in his memories, Taija had to remind himself that it didn’t feel good. It couldn’t feel good, because it wasn’t like Taiju wanted to do it to you. But he had to do it to you, for your sake. 

Just the sheer thought of some sinner would have their slimy hands touching your delicate skin, fingers dipping into your panties as they touched your lips with that dirty mouth, soiling the purity that your brother fought so hard for- Such a detestable thought that he had to shower again just to remove the ick from his skin. No, he would never let you be taken advantage of, to be tarnished by demons. 

He remembered that he had kept you home from school that day without explanation, instead dressing you up in his favorite white dress and taking you to church. You didn’t question it of course, your head bowed as you listened quietly to his prayer, before compliantly following him home. Neither did you question the drink that the oldest of the Shibas passed over to you, simply drinking it down, washing the glass and putting it away. The sleeping pills didn’t take long to take effect, and it was the first time in a long while since Taiju had seen you in such a peaceful state, your face relaxed as you cuddled into the warmth of his chest, bundled safely in his arms as he carried you upstairs to his room. 

A twinge of guilt prinkled at his chest as the unusually silent man lifted your skirt up to reveal the pristine pair of panties, framed between your silky thighs, though it was mercilessly squashed down - there was nothing to be ashamed of. Because there was no pleasure to it, he told himself: a union under the eyes of the Lord. His unglamorous task of taking your virginity that your oldest brother was undertaking was all for your sake, Taiju reminded himself again and again. To preserve your virtue, to save his little angel from the sinners of the earth, he must.

You were wet between your legs, Taiju had grimly noted, the sticky liquid stretching to form a glistening trail that snapped as he finally peeled your underwear off, the cloth surreptitiously slipped into his pocket instead of being tossed to the side with the rest of your clothes. It was a worrying sign to your god-fearing brother of your slipping righteousness. Where have your thoughts been going? What have you been doing alone? Was he already too late? His distress was somewhat alleviated when he pressed your lips apart to find an unengorged clit, and a quick dip of his finger into your slit alleviated his concerns as you tried to wriggle away from the intrusion into your privates. Good, you weren’t used to the sensation.

Pulling his erect cock out from his boxer, the man lined himself up between your spread legs. But for all his mental preparations, for all the praying he had done in the week leading up to this day, every last thought was lost, ripped away in a sudden violent wind in his mind as he finally slipped the thick head of his cock into you, as he could only concentrate on biting back the satisfied groan that threatened to rip from his throat as he forced himself past your tight muscles. He was stronger than this, stronger than the immediate siren’s call of your warm walls that instantly began to squeeze around his member, adding to your tightness that surrounded him like the demons of the earth. Pressing through and deep into the tunnel of muscles, he finally bottomed out in you, the hairs that decorated the base of his cock like a halo tickling your soft skin.

He didn’t remember it being a particularly hot afternoon, the memory of a cool wind that gently brushed drawn curtains still strong. Yet the beads of sweat clung to his forehead as he began to thrust, pulling out slightly before gently pushing himself back in as far as he could go - a small mercy he granted you for you to be able to adjust to his size. Even in your sleep, you winced, your brow furrowed as tears welled at the corners of your eyes, your legs subconsciously attempting to close around him in an effort to push away the pain though you failed to wake, the sleeping pills keeping you pliable.

“Shhhhhh,” Taiju had soothed you, running one big hand through your hair as he bounced you on his lap, your bare skin barely making a sound rubbed against the cloth of his shirt and pants. 

‎‎

A soft soft chime of his phone, and Taiju was shaken from his memories. The gaze of the angel seemed more ominous as the night grew older, surrounded and swallowed at the edges by the shadows as several candles expired. The blue-haired man turned, adjusting the silk scarf around his neck as he left, his footsteps thudding across the worn wooden floor. “Amen,” he mumbled, as the double doors of the church swung close behind him.

He needed to find you, and soon.

‎‎

‎‎

You let out an eep as you were yanked backwards by the strap of your bag, though you never did hit the floor like the scrunch of your body and outstretched limbs had prepared for, instead finding yourself being caught and slowly lowered to rest against a warm wall of muscles. “And where do you think you’re going?” He whispered into your ear, hot air tickling the nape of your neck as Izana’s unblinking violet eyes glanced down at you.

Letting out a sigh, you opted to allow yourself to relax, slumping back against the tanned man as his arms moved to wrap gently around your waist: caught again. Your dreams of a quick jaunter shattered once more. “I-I was just thinking of popping out for some snacks,” you admitted sheepishly. 

You hadn’t even seen him there despite his white, wavy hair being a perfect contrast against the black sofa and dimly lit room, and you could have sworn you looked several times before attempting your getaway. Yet against your mind still screaming for you to move, to flee, to grovel and beg for mercy like you always had to in the not so distant past, it was sheer relief that surged through your veins as you realized that his disappointed tone was all you had to deal with now. Receiving nothing more than a hum for your rebellion still came as an unexpected relief to you where formerly you would have had to bare your buttocks for a spanking, two thick unlubed fingers forced into your tight pucker to make the punishment that much more painful. You shuddered, forcing those foul memories back. Come to think of it, you were definitely glad that your older siblings had remained unaware of your secret…excursions out from under their noses - you would have never gotten to know Izzy if you didn’t, and you would have nowhere to go.

Izana pulled you closer to rest his chin atop your head while you pouted at your foiled outing attempt. No words needed to be exchanged: those empty eyes gazing down at you said everything that needed to be said. Even just across the road was too dangerous alone given what was at stake for you.

The glimmer of the polished front door just a stone’s throw away mocked you from where you now sat amidst the grandeur of the reception room, though you knew that nothing looked like it seemed - that door was heavy, much, much heavier than its wooden facade gave away, and almost too hefty for you to pull open yourself. And it didn’t open straight out into the world you knew, instead leading to the lift that would bring you down to a concealed door hidden within an inoperable freezer in the backroom of a Toman-owned club; it was a when, rather than if, you would have been caught on your escapee.

But still, you tried. "It would have been five minutes tops, just there and back."

The white-haired man barely blinked at your plea, cocking his head to one side. “You want to go back there?”

Wincing at his question, his usually harsh gaze seemed to soften on you; you didn’t quite need the reminder that you were just across town from where you had run away from, nor that your siblings were scouring the city for any sign of you. The four walls of this luxury apartment were where your safety and security was guaranteed, protected from your former Shiba family who seeked to return you to your cage, though the same guarantee couldn’t be extended should you choose to wander out alone. “No,” You mumbled, burying your face into his black jacket, his tanned hand soothingly running through your hair. “M’ sorry Izzy.”

‎‎

‎‎

“Don’t worry about it,” Izana reassured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he cuddled you closer. You smelled…soft, a hard-to-describe yet addictive scent that he couldn’t get enough of. He imagined it would be much like what a newborn would smell to its mother. “What was it you wanted to buy?”

You were the fresh spring rain to his cold, hardened ground, new life to his tainted world like the first seedlings of the year. It was a well-kept secret that Izana had always wanted someone to dote on after the tough life that he had led, someone unblemished by the horrid world who he could lavish his love on and in return receive unconditional love. Someone he could latch onto and leach off and pass on the burden of a purpose to keep living. 

No pet would make the cut, nor would the hassle of maintaining a significant other be worth the risks or cost. And the crime boss had also known exactly what he needed, the same thing that the rest of his adoptive family (no matter how much he resented them at times) also craved for deep down, but it was exactly what they lacked in every regard: a baby sibling. Someone to spoil, someone to light up their world with their innocent doe eyes and toothy smile, someone to simply appreciate their existence and their presence without expecting anything in return. The youngest of them, Emma, was way too old and hardened, and there were no untainted hands left. 

So when you turned up after all these years, anxiously loitering outside one of the many clubs he owned on that stormy night looking like a lost puppy, soaked with nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, Izana knew he had struck gold. Who better to fill that hole in his chest than a new baby sister who had been so sheltered from the dark, despairing world? But you were his, and he so despised sharing.

“I was- I wanted to buy ice cream.”

Izana raised an eyebrow. ‘Ice cream? Do the kitchens not have any more?”

The corners of your lips pulled down further, your voice dropping to a whisper as if to keep a secret. “I wanted to try the one I saw on the TV,” you admitted, burying your head further into his coat in embarrassment. “The kitchens didn’t have that brand.”

He had known you briefly all those years ago, Izana recalled, as he propped you up better in his lap; you had bumped into him outside of your school, striking up a conversation despite him being dressed in his Black Dragon uniform, only to turn white and hurry away abruptly as if realizing something. And it was those innocent eyes, the same that still looked back at him when you blabbered to yourself, that Izana could never quite scrub from his memories every time he convinced you to sneak out to see him, not even after he lost track of you for all these years. Learning of your family explained much of your disappearance for all these years, but still; he supposed he’ll have to thank them for keeping you this pure just for him. You hadn’t even realized you were simply trading one gilded cage for another.

Trailing one hand up your creamy thigh, slowly inching further and further beneath your skirt, it was a complete wonder that you failed to react negatively, if at all. You didn't register it as wrong or weird, Izana mused, violet eyes watching as you enthusiastically described the advertisement that so caught your attention, the solid gold tag engraved with his name hanging from the equally pricy collar around your neck jingling away merrily with each wave of your arms. But he stopped before he had wandered too far up and retrieved his hand - that was for a more suitable time.

Any sane individual would know better than to approach the insanity that was the Sano family, yet you had waltzed into their - his - lives without a second thought, recklessly trading one jail for another all for the possibility of the real family you craved. Bundling you into his deceptively lean arms, Izana stood, setting you carefully back onto your feet. “Come on, I’ll bring you to the store.”

Your expression changed in a moment, the sheer joy at such a simple request being fulfilled amusing to the white-haired man. “Really? I mean, I don’t need it…”

One tan hand came down to gently rap you on your head. “Unless you don’t want it anymore.” 

“No no!” You did a little jig, before shyly slipping your delicate hand into his. “Thanks, Izzy.”

“Just Izzy?” 

“Izzy-nii-san.”

He let out an approving hum, free hand reaching into his pocket to lightly touch the cool metal of his pistol, the other tugging you to walk with him. “Good girl.” 

Those doe eyes of yours were priceless, but he couldn't help but wonder if they would look any different broken.

[no-saints-around-here]

Yesterday's Cage for Tomorrow's Prison: Chapter 1

Yandere Shiba Family, Yandere Sano Family with BabyShibaSister!Reader

Masterlist

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heavily inspired by @sinreader 's Promise, and many thanks to @trashybandit for the bigbrain ideas!

tw: heavy incest, pseudo incest, explicit smut, yandere, drugging, sexual assault, heretic religious themes, afab reader, female pronouns, dead dove do not eat

“Our Father who art in Heaven.” His words bounced off the ornately decorated walls of the church, echoing back amidst the crackle of flickering lit candles dancing carefree atop their wax prison. At this time of night, it was only his single large figure that towered over the pews, his head of slicked-back blue hair bowed respectfully in prayer. Despite it not being Christmas quite yet, Taiju found himself having wandered back to the familiar, comforting environment of this holy place. Maybe it was in search of divine guidance through these difficult times, or perhaps it was somewhere he could think and ponder without distraction; God only knew he could use whatever help he could get.

Silence fell once more back over the otherwise lifeless building, blanketing the atmosphere with a heavy grandeur as the figure of an angel simply watched on from the altar, stone eyes devoid of any mercy of the inner turmoil Taiju was going through. The man sighed, dropping his clasped hands, yellow tiger-like eyes turned up towards the ceiling, a silent plea to the heavens. Where to even start? 

You were gone, missing from the penthouse he had called home ever since he had parted ways with Hakkai and Yuzuha twelve years ago. You - their baby sister, the single knot left that still held their broken family together - had vanished during his watch, and had failed to turn back up at the Shiba family home like you usually did. You, the only reason why your three older siblings were still in contact despite everything that checkered their past, the one person they would move the sun to keep you safe and secluded away from the harsh outside, the sole being Taiju held above all else in his heart right next to God. 

And you had abandoned him. Left him and his protection for a godless world. A dark and violent reality.

“Forgive me, Lord, for it has been a-” His usually formidable voice cracked, though the hitch in his tone was quickly swallowed. “A long day.”

The soft silk scarf wrapped around large shoulders was lightly perfumed with the fragrance you always wore, the gentle scent only serving to remind him of your equally kind touch. The last of the Shiba siblings to be born, Taiju had been the one to raise you from the beginning, though you were spoiled rotten by all your older siblings. And having promised his mother on her deathbed to always watch over you, he had always allowed you to do as you will, with you never once having been the target of his discipline. Was it his softness towards you that led you to decide to rebel? Was it his reluctance to ever discipline you like he did Yuzuha and Hakkai? Were you taking advantage of his continued goodwill?

Tai-nii! Up! The memory of your giggle from a time past reverberated in his ears, and if Taiju closed his eyes, he could still see a younger, tinier you - arms raised towards your oldest brother, insisting on being picked on and swung onto those broad shoulders. Your chubby, happy face as you dug into a burger he had bought for you, stopping to offer your big brother a bite of what was supposed to be your treat. Tai-nii, stop moving! You’re going to ruin it! Adorable doe eyes that held all the innocence of a lamb furrowed in concentration as you braided his blue-streaked hair into many tiny braids as he laid there and let you thread flowers right before his gang meeting. And any anger towards you that had begun to surge up into his chest instantly melted away, replaced with a nagging emptiness that felt wrong. He needed to find you, and soon.

But where could you have gone?  “She’s out there, all alone. Cold, hungry, dirty-”

That was an answer he still lacked after a week despite his best efforts, though perhaps all the search parties he had sent out would not return empty-handed this time. After all, Yuzuha, Hakkai and him had been so careful that you were allowed to see, meet and know all your life - he couldn’t think of anyone that you would be able to seek shelter with off the bat.

All his life, every second he had watched over you, your oldest brother had worked so hard to keep you pure, both of mind and body; it was what any good Christian father would have done for you as the Bible had demanded within its blessed pages, and in the absence of their own who was too busy working, Taiju had done it in his stead. And you had been so good for him as well when you were younger, listening obediently to everything he told you and learning eagerly from the person you looked up to the most in all the world, that bright and unsullied gaze filling him with joy. But then you grew up, and with your growth came the questions. The doubt. 

“Tainted.”

He couldn’t keep you home from school, not without arousing unwanted interest from the authorities, but with every passing day, Taiju could only watch as your once pure eyes were clouded over. Fouled, dirtied by filth spewed forth from dirtbags. He had tried his best to keep them away from you in the only way he knew how; the blood of sinners that coated his hands, that splattered across his face and stained his clothes was a low price to pay to warn everyone else away from you. Yet you still continued to stray from the light slowly but surely, first asking why you couldn't watch the television, to why your siblings were so insistent on keeping you at home and in sight when everyone else could ‘go and hang out with friends’, and then slowly progressing to why they were 'ruining your life’. 

Sighing, Taiju stood, dusting off and adjusting his tailor-made suit, handcrafted Italian shoes barely making a sound as the giant of a man made his way across carpeted floors towards the empty altar. It hurt him as much as it hurt you, but he was just doing what was best for his baby sister. Coming to a pause right before the wooden candle-laden table, those beastly eyes turned up longing to gaze upon the angel sculpture. Virtuous, sinfree, divine; you were once his little angel. “I pray that you lead me to my lost lamb, Lord, like how you shepherd your flock to the promised lands.”

‎‎

Despite all his protection, you just kept getting older by the day, and the day that he caught the gazes of scum lingering on your behind as he walked you out from the Shiba family compound was the day Taiju had had enough; mere beatings dished out to your unwelcomed company weren’t going to keep you on the right path. The time had come to solve the problem at the root. And even in his memories, Taija had to remind himself that it didn’t feel good. It couldn’t feel good, because it wasn’t like Taiju wanted to do it to you. But he had to do it to you, for your sake. 

Just the sheer thought of some sinner would have their slimy hands touching your delicate skin, fingers dipping into your panties as they touched your lips with that dirty mouth, soiling the purity that your brother fought so hard for- Such a detestable thought that he had to shower again just to remove the ick from his skin. No, he would never let you be taken advantage of, to be tarnished by demons. 

He remembered that he had kept you home from school that day without explanation, instead dressing you up in his favorite white dress and taking you to church. You didn’t question it of course, your head bowed as you listened quietly to his prayer, before compliantly following him home. Neither did you question the drink that the oldest of the Shibas passed over to you, simply drinking it down, washing the glass and putting it away. The sleeping pills didn’t take long to take effect, and it was the first time in a long while since Taiju had seen you in such a peaceful state, your face relaxed as you cuddled into the warmth of his chest, bundled safely in his arms as he carried you upstairs to his room. 

A twinge of guilt prinkled at his chest as the unusually silent man lifted your skirt up to reveal the pristine pair of panties, framed between your silky thighs, though it was mercilessly squashed down - there was nothing to be ashamed of. Because there was no pleasure to it, he told himself: a union under the eyes of the Lord. His unglamorous task of taking your virginity that your oldest brother was undertaking was all for your sake, Taiju reminded himself again and again. To preserve your virtue, to save his little angel from the sinners of the earth, he must.

You were wet between your legs, Taiju had grimly noted, the sticky liquid stretching to form a glistening trail that snapped as he finally peeled your underwear off, the cloth surreptitiously slipped into his pocket instead of being tossed to the side with the rest of your clothes. It was a worrying sign to your god-fearing brother of your slipping righteousness. Where have your thoughts been going? What have you been doing alone? Was he already too late? His distress was somewhat alleviated when he pressed your lips apart to find an unengorged clit, and a quick dip of his finger into your slit alleviated his concerns as you tried to wriggle away from the intrusion into your privates. Good, you weren’t used to the sensation.

Pulling his erect cock out from his boxer, the man lined himself up between your spread legs. But for all his mental preparations, for all the praying he had done in the week leading up to this day, every last thought was lost, ripped away in a sudden violent wind in his mind as he finally slipped the thick head of his cock into you, as he could only concentrate on biting back the satisfied groan that threatened to rip from his throat as he forced himself past your tight muscles. He was stronger than this, stronger than the immediate siren’s call of your warm walls that instantly began to squeeze around his member, adding to your tightness that surrounded him like the demons of the earth. Pressing through and deep into the tunnel of muscles, he finally bottomed out in you, the hairs that decorated the base of his cock like a halo tickling your soft skin.

He didn’t remember it being a particularly hot afternoon, the memory of a cool wind that gently brushed drawn curtains still strong. Yet the beads of sweat clung to his forehead as he began to thrust, pulling out slightly before gently pushing himself back in as far as he could go - a small mercy he granted you for you to be able to adjust to his size. Even in your sleep, you winced, your brow furrowed as tears welled at the corners of your eyes, your legs subconsciously attempting to close around him in an effort to push away the pain though you failed to wake, the sleeping pills keeping you pliable.

“Shhhhhh,” Taiju had soothed you, running one big hand through your hair as he bounced you on his lap, your bare skin barely making a sound rubbed against the cloth of his shirt and pants. 

‎‎

A soft soft chime of his phone, and Taiju was shaken from his memories. The gaze of the angel seemed more ominous as the night grew older, surrounded and swallowed at the edges by the shadows as several candles expired. The blue-haired man turned, adjusting the silk scarf around his neck as he left, his footsteps thudding across the worn wooden floor. “Amen,” he mumbled, as the double doors of the church swung close behind him.

He needed to find you, and soon.

‎‎

‎‎

You let out an eep as you were yanked backwards by the strap of your bag, though you never did hit the floor like the scrunch of your body and outstretched limbs had prepared for, instead finding yourself being caught and slowly lowered to rest against a warm wall of muscles. “And where do you think you’re going?” He whispered into your ear, hot air tickling the nape of your neck as Izana’s unblinking violet eyes glanced down at you.

Letting out a sigh, you opted to allow yourself to relax, slumping back against the tanned man as his arms moved to wrap gently around your waist: caught again. Your dreams of a quick jaunter shattered once more. “I-I was just thinking of popping out for some snacks,” you admitted sheepishly. 

You hadn’t even seen him there despite his white, wavy hair being a perfect contrast against the black sofa and dimly lit room, and you could have sworn you looked several times before attempting your getaway. Yet against your mind still screaming for you to move, to flee, to grovel and beg for mercy like you always had to in the not so distant past, it was sheer relief that surged through your veins as you realized that his disappointed tone was all you had to deal with now. Receiving nothing more than a hum for your rebellion still came as an unexpected relief to you where formerly you would have had to bare your buttocks for a spanking, two thick unlubed fingers forced into your tight pucker to make the punishment that much more painful. You shuddered, forcing those foul memories back. Come to think of it, you were definitely glad that your older siblings had remained unaware of your secret…excursions out from under their noses - you would have never gotten to know Izzy if you didn’t, and you would have nowhere to go.

Izana pulled you closer to rest his chin atop your head while you pouted at your foiled outing attempt. No words needed to be exchanged: those empty eyes gazing down at you said everything that needed to be said. Even just across the road was too dangerous alone given what was at stake for you.

The glimmer of the polished front door just a stone’s throw away mocked you from where you now sat amidst the grandeur of the reception room, though you knew that nothing looked like it seemed - that door was heavy, much, much heavier than its wooden facade gave away, and almost too hefty for you to pull open yourself. And it didn’t open straight out into the world you knew, instead leading to the lift that would bring you down to a concealed door hidden within an inoperable freezer in the backroom of a Toman-owned club; it was a when, rather than if, you would have been caught on your escapee.

But still, you tried. "It would have been five minutes tops, just there and back."

The white-haired man barely blinked at your plea, cocking his head to one side. “You want to go back there?”

Wincing at his question, his usually harsh gaze seemed to soften on you; you didn’t quite need the reminder that you were just across town from where you had run away from, nor that your siblings were scouring the city for any sign of you. The four walls of this luxury apartment were where your safety and security was guaranteed, protected from your former Shiba family who seeked to return you to your cage, though the same guarantee couldn’t be extended should you choose to wander out alone. “No,” You mumbled, burying your face into his black jacket, his tanned hand soothingly running through your hair. “M’ sorry Izzy.”

‎‎

‎‎

“Don’t worry about it,” Izana reassured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he cuddled you closer. You smelled…soft, a hard-to-describe yet addictive scent that he couldn’t get enough of. He imagined it would be much like what a newborn would smell to its mother. “What was it you wanted to buy?”

You were the fresh spring rain to his cold, hardened ground, new life to his tainted world like the first seedlings of the year. It was a well-kept secret that Izana had always wanted someone to dote on after the tough life that he had led, someone unblemished by the horrid world who he could lavish his love on and in return receive unconditional love. Someone he could latch onto and leach off and pass on the burden of a purpose to keep living. 

No pet would make the cut, nor would the hassle of maintaining a significant other be worth the risks or cost. And the crime boss had also known exactly what he needed, the same thing that the rest of his adoptive family (no matter how much he resented them at times) also craved for deep down, but it was exactly what they lacked in every regard: a baby sibling. Someone to spoil, someone to light up their world with their innocent doe eyes and toothy smile, someone to simply appreciate their existence and their presence without expecting anything in return. The youngest of them, Emma, was way too old and hardened, and there were no untainted hands left. 

So when you turned up after all these years, anxiously loitering outside one of the many clubs he owned on that stormy night looking like a lost puppy, soaked with nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, Izana knew he had struck gold. Who better to fill that hole in his chest than a new baby sister who had been so sheltered from the dark, despairing world? But you were his, and he so despised sharing.

“I was- I wanted to buy ice cream.”

Izana raised an eyebrow. ‘Ice cream? Do the kitchens not have any more?”

The corners of your lips pulled down further, your voice dropping to a whisper as if to keep a secret. “I wanted to try the one I saw on the TV,” you admitted, burying your head further into his coat in embarrassment. “The kitchens didn’t have that brand.”

He had known you briefly all those years ago, Izana recalled, as he propped you up better in his lap; you had bumped into him outside of your school, striking up a conversation despite him being dressed in his Black Dragon uniform, only to turn white and hurry away abruptly as if realizing something. And it was those innocent eyes, the same that still looked back at him when you blabbered to yourself, that Izana could never quite scrub from his memories every time he convinced you to sneak out to see him, not even after he lost track of you for all these years. Learning of your family explained much of your disappearance for all these years, but still; he supposed he’ll have to thank them for keeping you this pure just for him. You hadn’t even realized you were simply trading one gilded cage for another.

Trailing one hand up your creamy thigh, slowly inching further and further beneath your skirt, it was a complete wonder that you failed to react negatively, if at all. You didn't register it as wrong or weird, Izana mused, violet eyes watching as you enthusiastically described the advertisement that so caught your attention, the solid gold tag engraved with his name hanging from the equally pricy collar around your neck jingling away merrily with each wave of your arms. But he stopped before he had wandered too far up and retrieved his hand - that was for a more suitable time.

Any sane individual would know better than to approach the insanity that was the Sano family, yet you had waltzed into their - his - lives without a second thought, recklessly trading one jail for another all for the possibility of the real family you craved. Bundling you into his deceptively lean arms, Izana stood, setting you carefully back onto your feet. “Come on, I’ll bring you to the store.”

Your expression changed in a moment, the sheer joy at such a simple request being fulfilled amusing to the white-haired man. “Really? I mean, I don’t need it…”

One tan hand came down to gently rap you on your head. “Unless you don’t want it anymore.” 

“No no!” You did a little jig, before shyly slipping your delicate hand into his. “Thanks, Izzy.”

“Just Izzy?” 

“Izzy-nii-san.”

He let out an approving hum, free hand reaching into his pocket to lightly touch the cool metal of his pistol, the other tugging you to walk with him. “Good girl.” 

Those doe eyes of yours were priceless, but he couldn't help but wonder if they would look any different broken.

[no-saints-around-here]

Quiet Afternoon

Yandere BFF Bonten Rindo & Bimbo!Reader

Masterlist

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a little nsfw spinoff from my BFF Rindo series, starting here, masterlist here! not necessary to read but it'll provide some context imo

tw: yandere, smut, dubcon, sexual assault, double pen, afab reader, dead dove do not eat

The muffled clap of skin meeting skin echoed through the opulently decorated bedroom, though calling the enormous space a bedroom was generously stretching the term to its limit. Tastefully decked out in dark-toned hardwoods and the occasional flourish of gold and silver, the priceless masterpieces that decorated the walls and corner of the room as if spoils of wars were barely visible in the dim light, polished frames and shined metal unable to shimmer in the dull ambient glow of the intricate chandelier that hung above the bed. Yet despite all the glitters and glamor that shared the space, it was only the four-poster bed that received any ounce of the spotlight - or more so you, ever so elegantly posed naked on your fours above less sparsely-dressed yet obviously fuming Rindo.

“What the fuck-” The words were hissed through gritted teeth as he harshly thursted himself upwards. “Did I say about talking to the others? Huh?!” You only huffed, unable to even catch your breath as strong arms simultaneously forced you backwards and onto him, his hips meeting the flesh of your buttocks with a wet slap as the Bonten executive plunged his entire length into you.

You, however, barely seemed to notice your self-proclaimed best friend’s foul mood as he pounded himself into you, the pleasure overwhelming any coherent thought that might have been left in that empty head of yours. Angelic voice that once could transfix and mesmerize crowds now reduced to mere huffing and wheezing, your doe-like eyes rolled backwards as he grinded his cock harshly against that one soft, spongy spot of your inner wall. Rindo was sure that the only thing keeping you up was his strength; the same strength that had kept you safe from the big bad world since you wore him down into friendship in childhood. But it was precisely this fact that had the well-feared mobster pissed off enough to tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.

Even after so long and what could be considered a forcibly short but successful stint as an idol, you still had barely a brain cell to share between both halves of your head, still couldn’t even follow a single simple instruction that he was sure he had drilled into you countless times. 

It was just a routine job, no more than a few hours to be spent apart from you. His orders were easy and direct as they always were when it came to you: forbidding you from leaving the room until he was back, to keep the door locked at all times, and to not breathe a word to any of the other Bonten members except in an absolute emergency. Straightforward enough, yet where did he find you upon his return from his exhausting mission? Not in your shared room, no; he found you instead mesmerized by Koko, that slick, stingy motherfucker trying to brainwash you into selling nudes. Convincing you that he, Rindo, your best friend in the entire world, wouldn’t mind in the slightest since there was money to be made, and that Koko had buyers - dedicated, obsessed and very, very wealthy fans still reeling from your sudden retirement from the industry - lined up that would shell out a bomb for just a mere teasing shot in your panties. 

Lies. You should know better than to think those honeyed words were nothing but lies. Because you were his and only his, and as your friend and sole protector, he would happily kill every last person who dared to lay such vulgar eyes on you.

“Why were you with Koko? What else did he say?” The younger of the Haitanis demanded, gloved grip tightening ever so slightly around your hips.

Despite the strong air-conditioning going at full blast and having done so for the past couple of hours, the prominent beads of sweat that clung to your forehead gleamed softly as if crystals clung to your skin as you panted, gasping to catch your next breath. A complete opposite from his own state. Rindo didn’t feel the slightest bit winded from this post-work workout despite being mostly clad in his combat outfit: the bulletproof vest paired with a simple black shirt and tie only missing a similarly colored pair of pants, with said clothing having long been stripped off and hurriedly discarded. Though more irritating was having to watch the dirt and grime and filthy blood of the outside world being rubbed off onto your bare skin - he’ll have to make sure that you got an extra thorough bath later. God only knows what kind of sickness you could catch.

You, however, remained unresponsive to Rindo’s demands except the occasional whuff and sharp exhale, lost in the pleasure rippling through your body from the valley between your legs. 

Finally pulling himself out from his spiraling thoughts, the Bonten executive paused in his movements, sharp violet eyes narrowing at your failure to respond as he left himself half submerged in your folds. “Are you even listening?” He snarled, accompanied with another strong thrust that earned him a throaty gasp from you before stopping once more.

Rindo’s only answer was your struggle against his hold in a vain attempt to regain the sudden loss of friction. “Ah-ahh Rin-rin,” you whined, pleaded, as you desperately tried to regain the momentum that sparked pleasure in your abdomen, though your attempt to grind against him was in vain. "I really tr-ied!"

He already did so much for you - the tattoo on the front of his neck that branded him as Bonten was all for you. Who better to protect you from rabid world who would tear you apart without hesitation than the largest criminal organization in Japan? All those tortured souls, those eyes that he stared straight into before ending their life, all the blood that stained his hands. Rindo did it to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. And this was how you repaid your best friend? “You didn’t try hard enough.”

Countless men he had killed who had tried to take you away, who had tried to steal away your heart, who had tried to get you to notice them. And countless more he will kill - strangers, Bonten employees, former fans. He would kill them all for you. But even now, Rindo couldn’t quite muster himself to get genuinely angry at you. Even after you betrayed his trust, it was pretty much what Rindo had expected - you had always been quite the airhead, which was why you depended on him, why he, your best friend, had to care for you and look after you.

He’ll punish you for this transgression all right, but not too much; the thought of you fearing him, leaving him, sent shivers down his spine. Just a little bit wouldn’t hurt to keep you in line.

‎

‎

Sure, Ran might have been strolling down Executive Row with the precise intention of poking his nose into his younger brother’s business, especially after the juicy rumors swirling as to what went down a couple of hours earlier with Koko. Now clean and dressed in a fresh set of shirt and shorts, this part of Bonten HQ was predictably void of souls - no servant would dare be caught loitering where the bosses lived. But being able to hear your harmonious voice whining from the corridor for all to hear? Even he didn’t expect something so bold from Rindo, not when the latter had a custom-made soundproof bedroom door installed the day he moved in. And sure enough, the thick, heavy padded steel door was slightly ajar, an oddity in the otherwise lifeless hallway neatly lined with an alternating pattern of invaluable treasures and rightly shut doors - Rindo must have been in a mighty hurry if he failed to do something so routine.

The rare and untimely creak of the usually well-oiled door fortunately failed to draw any attention, Ran noted, and the full view of your naked backside mooning him from the entrance quickly made it clear what his dear brother was occupied with. He remembered you well not only from your shared childhood in the Haitani household, but more recently from your time on the stage, those captivating melodies that you belted out without a second thought roaring up to the front of his mind once more. No doubt he still hears them from time to time on the air, but having had the opportunity to listen to you in person once, it was clear why you had rocketed to stardom. But ah Rindo - he kept you close to his side all this time. Negotiating with Mikey just to let him have you, he was always so obsessed with you, baring his teeth at any of the other executives that dared to even glance your way, let alone allowing you anywhere close to rabid fans eager for a piece of you. He even hides his fucking gun from you. No wonder he forced you to retire from stardom.

For a moment, Ran stood watching the two of you from the doorway. Rindo was frustrated at whatever sin it was that you had committed, and this was his idea of a “punishment”, yet that baby boy nestled amidst the luxurious fabrics was still so obviously, painfully gentle. The way he was edging you so carefully, glancing up at your face every other second just to make sure you weren’t actually hurting, still giving you the occasional pump so that you weren’t left completely high and dry; what else was there to say? Ran was nowhere this kind even to his favorite private whores. The smell of sex filled every breath he took as the cool air leaked out from the bedroom and into the otherwise empty passage, before the man finally turned to gently close the door behind him, locking it shut. A smell he was no stranger to, and while he was sure Rindo would maybe be okay if it was just him, but he would definitely be pissed if any of the others ever saw you in your current state. Pissed enough to end them with a clean gunshot to the head probably, and Ran shuddered at the possibility of having to bail Rindo out from Mikey’s wrath.

A soft chime ringing out from an unseen clock was like the starting bell of a fight, and it was a smirk that pulled at Ran’s lips as he padded over to the centerpiece of the room. Time to make this little session a proper punishment - he did have a heart after all, and if it did help Rindo keep you more in line, then fantastic

Your self-proclaimed best friend only took note of the unwelcome intruder when the nightstand drawer was pulled open, and in an instance, that look of mock anger (Ran was certain it was all just a bluff) fell away into horror as their eyes met. “What the fuck-“ Rindo stammered, the gears in his head seemingly coming to a grinding halt. You at least had enough awareness left in you to let out an eep at the sudden introduction of another voice, though you quickly settled back down as Rindo’s arms tightened protectively around you; maybe you assumed that all this was Rindo’s idea? Ran wouldn’t be surprised - your airhead already relied so heavily on the other to guide you through life.

“You left the door open. So I invited myself in.” The older of the two helpfully supplemented, signature lazy grin plastered all over his face as he rummaged for a little before pulling out a small tube.

“Get out!”

“Aww Rin-Rin, why’re you being so mean?” Ran teased as he slid onto the plush bed, comfy blankets that usually swaddled you and your delicate skin puffing up under his bony self as the man made his way across the enormous mattress. “I’m just here to help.”

“Don’t you dare touch her,” swore Rindo, the previous anger that had melted away from his face just minutes ago flaring up once more, cheeks reddening as he glared down Ran. “I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.”

But the fighting words barely bothered the older Haitani, more than used to his brother’s all bark and no bite when it came to actually making a move in front of you. “You want to punish her, don’t ya?” Drawled Ran, as he finally reached you. You jumped when cold hands touched your cheeks, spreading them apart with a critical eye as if appreciating a feast. “Doesn’t seem like it with what you’re doing.” 

Ignoring the continuously growing threats that Rindo was growling at him from the bed, Ran instead busied himself making a show of squeezing out what was revealed to be lube from the small tube and generously coating his fingers. The shiny liquid seemingly glimmered under the light of the chandelier against the backdrop of your equally glittery skin, his anticipation of what was to come shortly quickly leading to a tent in his shorts. After all, desire for something was directly proportional to how off-limits it was, and you had been off-limits to him since Rindo first brought you home. He couldn’t wait. Casually pushed two slicked digits into your tight pucker, giving it a few lazy pumps in what seemed like an attempt to loosen and oil your bottom up for him, his impatience got the better of him, and the Bonten executive gave up all pretense. Hurriedly pushing down the band of his shirts and pulling out his already hard dick, you weren’t given a warning other than the light touch of his length as Ran lined himself up. 

Your eyes popped open the same time that his head was forced past your ring of muscles, and your nose scrunched, an unmistakable sign of the flaring pain from between your legs. And the struggles started right after as you made a valiant attempt to free yourself from Rindo’s arms, the beads of sweat that clung to your hair holding on for dear life as you tried to wriggle away. “Ri-Rin, it hurts…”

But Ran was already lost to the warm heaven he, like an explorer stumbling upon the entrance to nirvana, had discovered within your wriggling body.  “Oh- oh f-fuck,” was all the man could moan as his length sank in slowly and surely, the feeling of your newly opened bottom clutching and squeezing around his dick pure ecstasy, his mind almost liquid mush. Was this heaven what Rindo had been hiding from him all these years? Probably not, the executive floatingly mused to himself, as he pushed himself further inwards, given how deep in denial his younger brother was when it came to his relationship with you. 

Your backdoor was miles better than any whore he had taken, in a league of your own, and that was putting it lightly - the warmth of your insides around him, combined with your muffled pained whines almost enough for the older Haitani to cum instantly if he had an ounce lesser of self-control. Sex might not have been Rindo’s top priority for keeping you out of the public’s eye and away from the rest of the Bonten executives, but god it should be - Ran would have been happy to pay an unimaginable number of zeros just for access to you..

Even Rindo let out a deep throated groan at the additional friction, before he caught himself and bit it back. Yet it was clear that you were stretched beyond your limit, the double penetration visibly causing strain between your legs, your thighs spasming with effort as you bit down hard on your lips, tears welling in those doe eyes of yours.

Slender fingers reaching down to gingerly touch at where you and Rindo were joined, the light exploratory brushes of his fingertips only serve to intensify your discomfort, as judged from the whimper that escaped your lips. Ran whistled - if that was enough to hurt…. That too failed to stop the smugly grinning executive, the older Haitani never ceasing as he continued to force his way past muscles that failed to keep him out, until he finally bottomed out in you, his balls slapping with enough force to let out an audible squelch. A pause, a temporary mercy to let you adjust to his size alongside Rindo’s, but more for Ran to admire the new expression that tore at your face.

An agonized grimace, a bleed of blood that adorned your plush lips, the idol that captured hearts was lost in the sea of pain he was putting you through. There was something beautiful about it, Ran admitted, as he ran one hand through your sweat-drenched hair, teasingly tracing light patterns into your back - he doubt there were many people who had ever seen this side of you, and it was a privilege he would treasure. The lust came flooding back as your tears fell, and Ran couldn’t resist leaning over to press a kiss to the back of your head before straightening.

“Move Rindo,” Ran grunted, as he started to grind his cock against your walls, pulling out slightly before slamming himself back in. “Move, dammit.”

‎

‎

“Fucking hell Ran, you’re hurting her!” In a bid to dislodge the other from you, the younger of the two had attempted to roll you over and under him, but the slightest nudge had you crying out at the extra stretch, and Rindo stopped. He wasn’t going to lie that he wasn’t enjoying the extra friction - he had never experienced anything close before - but you were and always will be his first priority. You crying was the last thing he wanted, and the guilt was welling at the base of his gut. What fresh new hell was he putting you through? 

Yet for all the nasty names his brain was yelling at him for not calling off this entire session, for not reaching under his pillow for his gun, Rindo couldn’t bring himself to pull out just yet. Against him knowing better than to continue, his hips began to thrust once more, and said gangster could only shove down the protesting best friend inside him.

He couldn’t tell when him and Ran had synced up, their thrusts falling into a pattern of one in, one out. The sheer friction generated was godly - the divine feeling of his cock rubbing up against another felt through the thin wall that separated your pussy from your ass as they were forced past each other. And as the seconds  - minutes, hours? Rindo had long lost track of time - your own cries of pain died down, you letting out tired whines and grunts as you laid spent on Rindo’s chest, the two brothers too busy hammering their hips against yours in a chase of pleasure to notice. All three of you toppled over that edge at the same time, Rindo letting out a strangled ‘fuck’ before like a tension coil finally allowed to release, his hot cum spurted deep into you as he shuddered against you. And nestled as far as he could push in your ass, Ran’s cock pulsed and shuddered as he too released his load into you. 

Around them, the sudden warmth seemed to trigger a response from you, your walls tightening around them as you came, though you barely twitched, your eyes already half-closed as you laid cuddled against Rindo, exhausted. Letting out a satisfied grunt, Ran finally pulled out of you, falling backwards to sit on the plush bed in a daze, the last dribble of cum drooling from the head of his softening dick. “That was- '' Said mafioso swallowed hard, unable to describe the feeling, though jumbled mind quickly latched on to the white cum starting to seep from both your holes. “Trying to get her pregnant?” 

Post-nut clarity hit Rindo like a truck, and the bliss plastered across his face evaporated, giving way to a dark, angry look. Reaching under his pillow, it was that telltale click as a familiar pistol was pulled from underneath the white covers. “That was you overstaying your welcome,” snarled Rindo, as he leveled the barrel straight at Ran. “Fuck. Off.”

Ran beat a hasty retreat, barely able to push his dick back into his shorts before he disappeared behind the heavy steel bedroom door, said door groaning as it was locked shut with a soft thud. 

Alone once more, the background whirl of the air-conditioning suddenly seemed so loud, the air blowing through unseen grates whistling as it drifted down from the high ceiling. The made-man turned his attention to you, violet eyes softening as he took in your fatigued form and your flushed cheeks. Stripping off his gloves, your best friend carefully rubbing his thumb over where hot tears had torn their way down your delicate skin, before chancing a glance between your legs. Ravaged would have been light - Rindo grimacing at the sight of your still panting pucker, red and inflamed from where it had been forced open. 

Sighing, the man bundled your naked form ever so gently into his arms, shifting his way off the bed and standing with a crack of his knees. You stirred, looking up at him with swollen eyes. “Rin rin?”

He hummed as he crossed the room towards your built-in bathroom. “What is it?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle as it always was when it came to you, a 180 from the feared Bonten gunman who took lives with nay a blink.

“...” You yawned, snuggling into his chest, your eyes fluttering close once more. “Nothing.”

“Hey, no sleeping yet.” He nudged you. “Pee, shower, then doctor.”

“Doctor?”

Just to make sure you were alright down there, Rindo admitted to himself, the guilt that he had suppressed previously now back to eat away at his heart, but he said nothing more to you. He’ll make it up to you, he swore to himself. Somehow, someway. With a click, the yellow lights flicked on, illuminating the marble-floored spotless bathroom.

You piped up again as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “Koko said - Koko said if I made enough money,” you paused, interrupted by another yawn. “You could stop working.”

“I don’t need your fucking money, stupid.” Placing you down on the toilet, the purple-haired man flicked your forehead, rolling his eyes. And that was the truth. It didn’t matter - it had never mattered - what he had to do. All this was for you. All he needed was you.

[no-saints-around-here]

Wedding Dress

Yandere Boyfriend Izana

Masterlist

‎‎

A/N: nothing as wild as the other fic in this! its super late now so i'll edit this when I wake up :)

‎

tw: explicit smut scene, stealthing/dubcon, mild emotional manipulation, breeding kink, exhibitionism, painful penetration, mentions of forced pregnancy, dead dove do not eat

“Try it on for me?” It was hard to ignore your boyfriend’s whining despite your very real need to actually concentrate on the assignment in front of you, but you knew that all it would take was one glimpse of those large violet eyes accompanied by that small pout and it would be nigh impossible for you to refuse Izana. Yet at the same time, there wasn’t any doubt in your mind about what your boyfriend was playing at, and you did truly understand. Busy was a generous understatement for the amount of work you had been swamped under by anxious teachers for the past few weeks leading up to your finals, and you hadn’t had the time to entertain a very needy Izana between all the assessments you’ve been churning through day after day. 

And it seems his patience had reached the end of its fuse, judging from the increasing volume of grumbling coming from just out of your sight. You supposed it wouldn’t hurt to spare him a few minutes of your time - it was the least you could do.

There was no stopping the chuckle that broke free from your lips at the sight of the tanned boy holding up what seemed like a gown straight out of those magazines you loved to browse, the gorgeous white embroidered fabric almost seeming to shimmer in the harsh afternoon light pouring in through your wide windows. “A wedding dress, Izzy? We’re a bit young, don’t you think?”

You knew you shouldn’t have given him anything more than a courteous glance and a sweet smile, let alone asked about it, if you had wanted to get on with your work; Izana all but pounced on the opportunity to finally steal your attention away from those wretched papers, thrusting the dress eagerly at you. And you swore that you saw the sparkles going off behind those usually empty eyes as he waited expectantly for you. To try on the dress? To move? It was definitely the former you mused, seeing Izana absolutely wasn’t having it when you moved to lay the dress ever so gingerly across your bed before attempting to return your attention to your books, your boyfriend dramatically throwing himself into your arms. “Put it on,” he demanded, his much larger self draped across your lap like a heavy blanket and completely obstructing your view of your papers, fists clutching at your skirt.

Letting a fond sigh slip, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I’ll try it on later, okay Izzy?” You placated, attempting to shift your figure round his as best you could while balancing his mass pressing down on and pinning your legs to your chair. Ignoring Izana’s wishes wasn’t something you did very often, if ever; you didn’t like to see him upset, but you were so close. You just really needed this last good grade on your finals to make your dream school, and this was your last chance to boost your grades to that level.

“No!” The boy insisted again, burying his face into your thighs. “Try it now.”

“Come on Izzy, I’m busy.”

Unfortunately, that failed to work as well, seeming to instead prod the delinquent into action. In a blink of an eye, Izana had already snatched up the pile of papers right before your fingers could close around them, leaping to his feet in the next heartbeat with a triumphant cry of ‘Got it!’. Which left you almost tumbling off your seat from the sudden absence of weight holding you in place, the sudden breeze that rushed through open windows carrying with it your surprised shout. You did fortunately manage to catch yourself, though with the onslaught of dizziness from standing so quickly, you did almost make friends with the floor again. “Give those back!” Despite knowing you were never getting your priceless worksheets back, you still nonetheless tried your best, reaching up on your tiptoes as far as you could, pushed up against the other’s lean for the best leverage. Yet from where Izana was dangling his prize from, well over his head and at a height you have never even dreamt of seeing, it was a lost cause.

“I want you to try the dress! Now!”

This again. “Don’t you have anything else to do, Izzy?” You sighed out, rubbing the palms of your hands into weary eyes as you dropped back down onto the balls of your feet. “What’s Kakucho doing?” 

You had thought you caught a glimpse of that signature buzzcut and scarred eye earlier from just behind the door to your room when Izana had first wandered in uninvited. Okay, uninvited was way too harsh a term since you did tell your boyfriend he was always welcomed to come round. But Kakucho was usually hot on the heels of his best friend, and it was strange to not see the other around. 

“Don’t know, don’t care. He’s not my minder.” He grumbled, poking lightly at your side with his free hand. “Put it on.”

Looks like you weren’t getting an answer, and Izzy wasn’t going to drop this.

‎

Throwing up your hands with a resigned groaned, Izana knew he had you. Those wide eyes followed your delicate figure as you finally, finally turned to shuffle the few steps to your bed, all the while grumbling under your breath about how lucky he was that he was cute. See? This would have been so much easier if you had just listened to him from the start - he already knew how irresistible he was after all. You could never say no to these dashing looks. But when you turned to leave, your arms lost in the flowing sea of white cloth bundled up ever so neatly, it was one tanned arm thrown up that stopped you. “Wait, where’re you going?”

You turned to throw a confused look at him, the tilt of your head and furrowed eyebrows sending blood rushing south from his head. Too cute. “To the bathroom? To change?”

“Change here.”

You spluttered at his bold claim, your lips moving yet failing to voice anything coherent as the boy watched gears attempting to turn in your head through those adorable doe eyes. One hand shot up to point at those wide open windows, the same ones Izana was fond of climbing through in the middle of the night. “Everyone can see?!” You squeaked, your voice rising an octave in indignation.

“They won’t,” He replied confidently. “Just change here.”

They would, in fact - Izana knew very well the exact distance at which one could start getting glimpses into your room (having sent Kakucho to test it out and report back of course), and there was no doubt in his mind that you would be putting an unintentional show for some jealous eyes below. Though this train of thoughts would go, and remain, unsaid as you let out yet another sigh, one more of already countless today. Glancing up at the clock, as if you knew he was never going to let this end if you kept trying to argue, you seemed to have come to a decision, carefully replacing the gown on your bed. “Turn around. Don’t look,” You warned.

Turning to face away from him, you concentrated on stripping off your shirt, followed quickly by your skirt, which you simply unbuckled and allowed to drop free; Izana against your explicit instructions watched with almost bated breath as more and more of your skin was revealed to his hungry eyes until he could no longer resist. A sudden warm touch to your waist - his warm touch - and you screamed, flowed by a harsh rustle of leaves as a flock of birds fled the nearby tree. Your sweet, innocent face instantly flaring red as his came to rest on your shoulder, Izana was more amused at you slapping one hand over his eyes, the other flying to cover the back of your kitten-printed panties. “Izzy!! I said don’t look!”

“You’ll need help with the dress.” Hot breath tickled the shell of your ear as your boyfriend reached up to tug away your hand, the other wandering hand brushed a burning trail over your skin, a journey that ended with him lightly tugging at the band of your underwear. “Besides, nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

‎

There was a pause as you processed his words, a rare moment of peace that allowed the sounds of life from the outside floated into your usually quiet room. “Help me already,” you settled on muttering, your cheeks somehow only flushing even harder as you lifted the gown up and across your body, gaze fixed instead on a spot on the ground as he took his time zipping and buckling the various fasteners. Heaven only knows why you were still with this insufferable man, though the cheeky grin he flashed at you that made your heart skip a beat said otherwise. 

Yet when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the first look you had of yourself clad in white, all your previous problems, the world, it all seemed to fade away, your eyes fixed on the image reflected at you. Was that.. you? “I-is this tailor made Izzy?” Gaping at the form-hugging dress that fitted you like a glove, you could only stare jaw-dropped at yourself as you slowly spun, breath stuck in your throat - the beauty in the flowing, glittering gown looking nothing like you. Nothing like you ever thought you could look like. You whirled to face the smug tanned boy. “How much did this cost?”

But there was, of course, no answer for your question, though his lack of words didn’t stop your boyfriend from mentally running the numbers - he always did wonder what you would think if you knew of the pools of spilt blood and broken bones that paid for every inch of that dress, the number of lives brought to absolute ruin directly or indirectly in his bid to raise the funds. Though this was nothing Izana wanted you to worry or even think about - every drop was well worth paying for the awe that shone in your doe eyes, and if operating in the shadows away from where your gaze fell, then so be it. Turning his focus back to you, your boyfriend allowed his gaze to wander.

The wedding dress was nothing short of a masterpiece, the fabric soft and luxurious against your skin, yet covered with a delicate threaded pattern that was visible only when tilted at a certain angle in the light. Light and flowy, yet at the same time just heavy enough in all the right places to accentuate your curves, you looked especially divine to him this fine afternoon. The white almost as if a halo around your form, the brightness of the fabric glimmering under the afternoon sun was a sharp contrast from his own tanned skin as he bundled the soft cloths into his arms. 

Your outfit, though helping to emphasize that touched-by-heaven feel to your presence, wasn’t yet perfect - there was something still missing to complete the outfit.

You only had time to let out an eep when Izana casually reached under your dress to yank down your panties, your face once more lighting on fire as your underwear was allowed to fall freely down your legs, pooling at your feet. “IZANA! STOP THAT!”

But the other was barely bothered by your (honestly, very light) smacks to his arm as he swatted away your hand, gently pushing you backwards to force you to step out and away from the embarrassing piece of cloth. “You can’t wear these with a wedding dress.” Or rather, he wouldn’t let you wear this with your dress.

Ah, you were always so shy about your panties, Izana mused, as you spun around to hide your blushing face from him. He didn’t quite understand why, but it made for very cute reactions that he couldn’t complain about, plus served as a good distraction, the tanned boy quickly swiping and tucking your underwear into his pocket. Certainly you wouldn’t miss them if he borrowed these for a bit - Kakucho would be sure to appreciate the little token for all his hard work. “DON’T LOOK AT THEM!”

Fishing out the plain white pair he had kept in his other pocket, this one was a world away from your usual preference of underwear, a ring of delicate lace carefully stitched to line the band of the lingerie and meeting at the front with a small pink bow. “Here, wear these.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze as Izana pulled your new pair up your legs, both hands still shyly covering as much of your burning face as you could, only finally dropping your hands to bunch a fistful of fabric when he gave your behind a playful smack. “There. All done.” Of course he already came in those and only half-heartedly washed off what he could be bothered to to make them look new at a glance. But again, not that you needed to know, though the faintest whisper reminding Izana of having the desecretated cloth pressed firmly against your crotch only served to make him unbearably hard.

 

“I hate you so much, Kurokawa Izana.” You muttered under your breath, letting out a huff. You didn’t mean that in the slightest. The chime of a distant bell did break the silent spell that had fallen over the quiet surroundings, shaking you back to the reality of your waiting homework. “If we’re done here, I’ll change out and get back to work, okay?” 

Silence was all you received back, and you took that as a yes from him, hands reaching for the zip on the back of the dress. It took but a heartbeat for you to go from standing in front of the mirror to finding yourself now sprawled flat on your bed, pinned under an Izana staring down at you unblinkingly, violet eyes flushed wide open. “Iz-mmm!”

‎

A pair of hungry lips crashing against yours swallowed anything you had to say, the white-haired boy locked in a desperate kiss with you almost as if he was trying to eat you alive, as if he couldn’t breathe without you; sucking and nibbling and tangling hard enough to leave your soft lips bruised. And all the while, one hand fumbled the button of his pants open, the bright afternoon sunlight accompanied by passing voices flooding into your room doing nothing to discourage him from eagerly yanking the band of his own underwear down far enough to allow his rock hard dick to spring free from its tight confines. 

Was it his long dry spell caused by your wretched teachers? Was it the glow of the wedding dress? Or was it the delicate white lace panties that tipped him over the edge? Whatever was the last straw, Izana couldn’t quite say, but seeing you prone beneath him only drove him wilder. He needed you now, more than ever. You would understand, like you always did.

Finally releasing you from his vicious, animalistic kiss, allowing you to gasp and heave and breathe, there was no rest for the weary, your boyfriend instantly moving to push the mass of layers that made up your wedding down up and out of the way to reveal the same lace panties he had helped you into just minutes ago. “Izzy?!”

But you were forced back down onto the bed before you could pull yourself up, Izana once more atop you. Yet even without a single word exchanged, you knew what he wanted. Cock pressed hard against the thin cloth that still clung to your privates, he let out a low groan that sent a shiver down your spine, empty eyes now filled with a rare burning lust snapping down to meet yours. As the boy leaned over you, you braced yourself, but the next kiss he pressed to your lips were nowhere like those brutal ones. They were the same ones you remember, the same ones you fell in love with - soft, gentle, fragile. Explosed.

“May I?” He breathed, hot air blowing over your skin, tanned hand slipping underneath the dress to lightly drag long, elegant fingers over your covered clit, the pressure on the thin cloth of your panties only increasing as he ground himself harder against you, the feeling of the crotch of your underwear wetting with your own fluids only sealing his own conviction. You wanted him, as much as he wanted you. You need him like he needs you.

Still, you hesitated. “Izzy, I-” 

Izana cut you off. “Please baby, I’m so hard.” He whimpered, burying his face into your chest, taking a deep breath of your addictive scent. “It hurts.” 

And that was all it took for you to cave- he knew you would never be able to live with the mere idea of allowing Izana to suffer. Reaching up to tangle your fingers into his silky white locks, you tugged him up for another kiss, giving him your blessing. Go ahead. 

Wasting no time, his fingers swept aside the offending cloth and in one smooth motion, Izana harshly forced the tip of his dick past your tight entrance, before slamming his entire length into you, his lips instantly moving to press firmly against yours and muffle the scream that bubbled up and threatened to spill from you. Your delicate fingers curled in his hair tightened to yank at his roots - no doubt you were struggling with suddenly being stretched too big, too fast after so long, the fat, hot tears welling and falling freely from your eyes burning a shared trail down both of your skins. Your toes curling into themselves as tight as they would go, your nail digging into his skin.

Yet in the moment, all he could think was the warmth of your fluttering walls that hugged his sheath as they tried to adjust and accommodate his girth, the tightness of you around him threatening to milk him for all he’s worth. And it was spectacular - this was what he had been missing all this time?

“That hurt, Izzy!” You sobbed out when he finally let up on your lips, choking on those few simple words, one trembling hand moving to wipe at the stinging tears while the other reaching down to gingerly touch at your spread cunt. “It hurts.”

“Shhhh, I’m sorry, I'm sorry.” Peppering your forehead with light kisses, Izana held still between your plush thighs, carefully massaging your abdomen as you whimpered into his chest, his free hand lifting the swelling tears from your eyes and gently tucking stray strands of hair away behind your ears. Because he meant it - as much as you cared for him, he did truly care for you - forcing himself to stay still was hell when all he wanted to do was pound you into the bed, but it was the least he could do to allow you to adjust to him. If you asked him to stop now, Izana no doubt would comply, though it was no secret you would never. You were always so good to him.

And when the spazzing of your muscles finally subsided and you tiredly nodded, the boy made sure to adjust you into a more comfortable position, nudging pillows under your back for support and allowing you to wrap your arms around him before he started at a more reasonable pace. Pulling out halfway before guiding himself back in, the discomfort, no matter how comparatively slight, was still present, your forehead wrinkling slightly with your wince.

But with each thrust of his hips, watching your face morph from pain to pleasure was like nothing else in the world. Izana knew your body better than the back of his own hand, and with his masterful, learned precision in hitting that pleasure spot that made the stars sparkle in your eyes, teasing out that blissful expression of yours he loved so much with every slap of his skin against yours - no other experience came even close. 

“I-izzy-“ It was vulgar almost, the sound of your pants and whines of his name mingling with the squelch of his dick rutting into you, your tears now nothing but a distant memory as Izana quickly picked up the pace. The sweet honey that leaked from your drenched pussy coating his dick now spluttering and dripping and staining the once pure white panties and gown you still wore along with his pants, yet the sight only made Izana go even faster. 

Tugging down the top of your dress to expose your breasts, your gasp was like an angel’s breath as he took one into his mouth, that oh so sinful tongue swirling at your nipple as he sucked and nibbled. “Iz-i— too much!” 

He had always wondered what your breasts would look like fully developed - would they look like those actresses in the magazines with their big heaving chest, or would they remain small and cute like yours do currently? But he didn’t care either way, Izana supposed, changing to attack your other breast, one deviant hand wandering down and under your dress to lightly rub at your clit as you whimpered and tried to break free from the excessive stimulation.

Those lacy white panties, once so carefully handled from person to person, had long been ruined, now laying torn between your spread legs, a victim of Izana’s frustration - despite him reminding himself to keep the priceless piece intact, the friction it created continuously rubbing against his length had been too much to bear. And you were too lost in your own haze of pleasure, eyes having long glazed over. Words evading your mind, you only managed to stammer out the first half of his name as your boyfriend continued to push himself again and again into you, fingers grasping at soft, plush thighs: another of his favorites. You really were perfect for him.

“F-f-fuck!” He panted over you, pressing his lips again and again to yours, the obscene of skin slapping against skin only growing louder with every thrust, the world around the two of you all but drowned out. “F-feel so good baby girl.”

‎‎You were made for him. You were all his - you had never taken another, and you never will. No one else could have you like he did, could see you like he did. Your nails raked into his back like claws, doe eyes flying open as your body shook around him. No one. “F- Iz— I-”

“Shi-it, fu- I’m I-!” One last thrust and sinking himself as deep as he could, Izana came straight into you, hot cum spilling into the deepest parts of you, right before he collapsed into your bed next to you, letting out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Fuck. 

Allowing himself just a few minutes of rest, the cry of a crow from outside your window suddenly snapped the white-haired boy back into reality, and his mind went straight to a single thought - did his expected audience enjoy the show? Did he care if they did?

Forcing himself up from where he was huddled up against you, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, you didn’t even twitch when Izana pressed your folds open to watch his cum slowly drip from your gasping hole, right before he gently lifted the white liquid to force it back in with two fingers. It was the first time you hadn’t requested he wear a condom, and having felt your warmth around him, Izana couldn’t see why he would ever going forward. Maybe he would if you asked nicely, but you would look so much better round and pregnant with his child in your wedding dress. He could consider asking the tailor to make some room for a baby bump.

But that was a question for another time, Izana bundling you into his arms, a hum on his lips as he carried you towards your bathroom - this wedding dress really was worth every last cent.

[no-saints-around-here]

masterlist updated!

Masterlist

Last Updated: 8th Oct '23

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Headcanons

Sleeping in the Nude

Panty Sniffing

Feet Kink

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Fics

Quiet Afternoon (Yandere BFF Bonten Rindo + Ran)

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Asks

Koko Auctioning off Panties

Baji the Panty Sniffer

CEO Baji and Secretary Reader

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Fics

A Waltz in the Dark

Wedding Dress

Me and You, Here and Now (Reverse ABO)

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Fics

Milk? (Yandere Leona)

[no-saints-around-here]

Quiet Afternoon

Yandere BFF Bonten Rindo & Bimbo!Reader

Masterlist

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a little nsfw spinoff from my BFF Rindo series, starting here, masterlist here! not necessary to read but it'll provide some context imo

tw: yandere, smut, dubcon, sexual assault, double pen, afab reader, dead dove do not eat

The muffled clap of skin meeting skin echoed through the opulently decorated bedroom, though calling the enormous space a bedroom was generously stretching the term to its limit. Tastefully decked out in dark-toned hardwoods and the occasional flourish of gold and silver, the priceless masterpieces that decorated the walls and corner of the room as if spoils of wars were barely visible in the dim light, polished frames and shined metal unable to shimmer in the dull ambient glow of the intricate chandelier that hung above the bed. Yet despite all the glitters and glamor that shared the space, it was only the four-poster bed that received any ounce of the spotlight - or more so you, ever so elegantly posed naked on your fours above less sparsely-dressed yet obviously fuming Rindo.

“What the fuck-” The words were hissed through gritted teeth as he harshly thursted himself upwards. “Did I say about talking to the others? Huh?!” You only huffed, unable to even catch your breath as strong arms simultaneously forced you backwards and onto him, his hips meeting the flesh of your buttocks with a wet slap as the Bonten executive plunged his entire length into you.

You, however, barely seemed to notice your self-proclaimed best friend’s foul mood as he pounded himself into you, the pleasure overwhelming any coherent thought that might have been left in that empty head of yours. Angelic voice that once could transfix and mesmerize crowds now reduced to mere huffing and wheezing, your doe-like eyes rolled backwards as he grinded his cock harshly against that one soft, spongy spot of your inner wall. Rindo was sure that the only thing keeping you up was his strength; the same strength that had kept you safe from the big bad world since you wore him down into friendship in childhood. But it was precisely this fact that had the well-feared mobster pissed off enough to tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.

Even after so long and what could be considered a forcibly short but successful stint as an idol, you still had barely a brain cell to share between both halves of your head, still couldn’t even follow a single simple instruction that he was sure he had drilled into you countless times. 

It was just a routine job, no more than a few hours to be spent apart from you. His orders were easy and direct as they always were when it came to you: forbidding you from leaving the room until he was back, to keep the door locked at all times, and to not breathe a word to any of the other Bonten members except in an absolute emergency. Straightforward enough, yet where did he find you upon his return from his exhausting mission? Not in your shared room, no; he found you instead mesmerized by Koko, that slick, stingy motherfucker trying to brainwash you into selling nudes. Convincing you that he, Rindo, your best friend in the entire world, wouldn’t mind in the slightest since there was money to be made, and that Koko had buyers - dedicated, obsessed and very, very wealthy fans still reeling from your sudden retirement from the industry - lined up that would shell out a bomb for just a mere teasing shot in your panties. 

Lies. You should know better than to think those honeyed words were nothing but lies. Because you were his and only his, and as your friend and sole protector, he would happily kill every last person who dared to lay such vulgar eyes on you.

“Why were you with Koko? What else did he say?” The younger of the Haitanis demanded, gloved grip tightening ever so slightly around your hips.

Despite the strong air-conditioning going at full blast and having done so for the past couple of hours, the prominent beads of sweat that clung to your forehead gleamed softly as if crystals clung to your skin as you panted, gasping to catch your next breath. A complete opposite from his own state. Rindo didn’t feel the slightest bit winded from this post-work workout despite being mostly clad in his combat outfit: the bulletproof vest paired with a simple black shirt and tie only missing a similarly colored pair of pants, with said clothing having long been stripped off and hurriedly discarded. Though more irritating was having to watch the dirt and grime and filthy blood of the outside world being rubbed off onto your bare skin - he’ll have to make sure that you got an extra thorough bath later. God only knows what kind of sickness you could catch.

You, however, remained unresponsive to Rindo’s demands except the occasional whuff and sharp exhale, lost in the pleasure rippling through your body from the valley between your legs. 

Finally pulling himself out from his spiraling thoughts, the Bonten executive paused in his movements, sharp violet eyes narrowing at your failure to respond as he left himself half submerged in your folds. “Are you even listening?” He snarled, accompanied with another strong thrust that earned him a throaty gasp from you before stopping once more.

Rindo’s only answer was your struggle against his hold in a vain attempt to regain the sudden loss of friction. “Ah-ahh Rin-rin,” you whined, pleaded, as you desperately tried to regain the momentum that sparked pleasure in your abdomen, though your attempt to grind against him was in vain. "I really tr-ied!"

He already did so much for you - the tattoo on the front of his neck that branded him as Bonten was all for you. Who better to protect you from rabid world who would tear you apart without hesitation than the largest criminal organization in Japan? All those tortured souls, those eyes that he stared straight into before ending their life, all the blood that stained his hands. Rindo did it to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. And this was how you repaid your best friend? “You didn’t try hard enough.”

Countless men he had killed who had tried to take you away, who had tried to steal away your heart, who had tried to get you to notice them. And countless more he will kill - strangers, Bonten employees, former fans. He would kill them all for you. But even now, Rindo couldn’t quite muster himself to get genuinely angry at you. Even after you betrayed his trust, it was pretty much what Rindo had expected - you had always been quite the airhead, which was why you depended on him, why he, your best friend, had to care for you and look after you.

He’ll punish you for this transgression all right, but not too much; the thought of you fearing him, leaving him, sent shivers down his spine. Just a little bit wouldn’t hurt to keep you in line.

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Sure, Ran might have been strolling down Executive Row with the precise intention of poking his nose into his younger brother’s business, especially after the juicy rumors swirling as to what went down a couple of hours earlier with Koko. Now clean and dressed in a fresh set of shirt and shorts, this part of Bonten HQ was predictably void of souls - no servant would dare be caught loitering where the bosses lived. But being able to hear your harmonious voice whining from the corridor for all to hear? Even he didn’t expect something so bold from Rindo, not when the latter had a custom-made soundproof bedroom door installed the day he moved in. And sure enough, the thick, heavy padded steel door was slightly ajar, an oddity in the otherwise lifeless hallway neatly lined with an alternating pattern of invaluable treasures and rightly shut doors - Rindo must have been in a mighty hurry if he failed to do something so routine.

The rare and untimely creak of the usually well-oiled door fortunately failed to draw any attention, Ran noted, and the full view of your naked backside mooning him from the entrance quickly made it clear what his dear brother was occupied with. He remembered you well not only from your shared childhood in the Haitani household, but more recently from your time on the stage, those captivating melodies that you belted out without a second thought roaring up to the front of his mind once more. No doubt he still hears them from time to time on the air, but having had the opportunity to listen to you in person once, it was clear why you had rocketed to stardom. But ah Rindo - he kept you close to his side all this time. Negotiating with Mikey just to let him have you, he was always so obsessed with you, baring his teeth at any of the other executives that dared to even glance your way, let alone allowing you anywhere close to rabid fans eager for a piece of you. He even hides his fucking gun from you. No wonder he forced you to retire from stardom.

For a moment, Ran stood watching the two of you from the doorway. Rindo was frustrated at whatever sin it was that you had committed, and this was his idea of a “punishment”, yet that baby boy nestled amidst the luxurious fabrics was still so obviously, painfully gentle. The way he was edging you so carefully, glancing up at your face every other second just to make sure you weren’t actually hurting, still giving you the occasional pump so that you weren’t left completely high and dry; what else was there to say? Ran was nowhere this kind even to his favorite private whores. The smell of sex filled every breath he took as the cool air leaked out from the bedroom and into the otherwise empty passage, before the man finally turned to gently close the door behind him, locking it shut. A smell he was no stranger to, and while he was sure Rindo would maybe be okay if it was just him, but he would definitely be pissed if any of the others ever saw you in your current state. Pissed enough to end them with a clean gunshot to the head probably, and Ran shuddered at the possibility of having to bail Rindo out from Mikey’s wrath.

A soft chime ringing out from an unseen clock was like the starting bell of a fight, and it was a smirk that pulled at Ran’s lips as he padded over to the centerpiece of the room. Time to make this little session a proper punishment - he did have a heart after all, and if it did help Rindo keep you more in line, then fantastic

Your self-proclaimed best friend only took note of the unwelcome intruder when the nightstand drawer was pulled open, and in an instance, that look of mock anger (Ran was certain it was all just a bluff) fell away into horror as their eyes met. “What the fuck-“ Rindo stammered, the gears in his head seemingly coming to a grinding halt. You at least had enough awareness left in you to let out an eep at the sudden introduction of another voice, though you quickly settled back down as Rindo’s arms tightened protectively around you; maybe you assumed that all this was Rindo’s idea? Ran wouldn’t be surprised - your airhead already relied so heavily on the other to guide you through life.

“You left the door open. So I invited myself in.” The older of the two helpfully supplemented, signature lazy grin plastered all over his face as he rummaged for a little before pulling out a small tube.

“Get out!”

“Aww Rin-Rin, why’re you being so mean?” Ran teased as he slid onto the plush bed, comfy blankets that usually swaddled you and your delicate skin puffing up under his bony self as the man made his way across the enormous mattress. “I’m just here to help.”

“Don’t you dare touch her,” swore Rindo, the previous anger that had melted away from his face just minutes ago flaring up once more, cheeks reddening as he glared down Ran. “I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.”

But the fighting words barely bothered the older Haitani, more than used to his brother’s all bark and no bite when it came to actually making a move in front of you. “You want to punish her, don’t ya?” Drawled Ran, as he finally reached you. You jumped when cold hands touched your cheeks, spreading them apart with a critical eye as if appreciating a feast. “Doesn’t seem like it with what you’re doing.” 

Ignoring the continuously growing threats that Rindo was growling at him from the bed, Ran instead busied himself making a show of squeezing out what was revealed to be lube from the small tube and generously coating his fingers. The shiny liquid seemingly glimmered under the light of the chandelier against the backdrop of your equally glittery skin, his anticipation of what was to come shortly quickly leading to a tent in his shorts. After all, desire for something was directly proportional to how off-limits it was, and you had been off-limits to him since Rindo first brought you home. He couldn’t wait. Casually pushed two slicked digits into your tight pucker, giving it a few lazy pumps in what seemed like an attempt to loosen and oil your bottom up for him, his impatience got the better of him, and the Bonten executive gave up all pretense. Hurriedly pushing down the band of his shirts and pulling out his already hard dick, you weren’t given a warning other than the light touch of his length as Ran lined himself up. 

Your eyes popped open the same time that his head was forced past your ring of muscles, and your nose scrunched, an unmistakable sign of the flaring pain from between your legs. And the struggles started right after as you made a valiant attempt to free yourself from Rindo’s arms, the beads of sweat that clung to your hair holding on for dear life as you tried to wriggle away. “Ri-Rin, it hurts…”

But Ran was already lost to the warm heaven he, like an explorer stumbling upon the entrance to nirvana, had discovered within your wriggling body.  “Oh- oh f-fuck,” was all the man could moan as his length sank in slowly and surely, the feeling of your newly opened bottom clutching and squeezing around his dick pure ecstasy, his mind almost liquid mush. Was this heaven what Rindo had been hiding from him all these years? Probably not, the executive floatingly mused to himself, as he pushed himself further inwards, given how deep in denial his younger brother was when it came to his relationship with you. 

Your backdoor was miles better than any whore he had taken, in a league of your own, and that was putting it lightly - the warmth of your insides around him, combined with your muffled pained whines almost enough for the older Haitani to cum instantly if he had an ounce lesser of self-control. Sex might not have been Rindo’s top priority for keeping you out of the public’s eye and away from the rest of the Bonten executives, but god it should be - Ran would have been happy to pay an unimaginable number of zeros just for access to you..

Even Rindo let out a deep throated groan at the additional friction, before he caught himself and bit it back. Yet it was clear that you were stretched beyond your limit, the double penetration visibly causing strain between your legs, your thighs spasming with effort as you bit down hard on your lips, tears welling in those doe eyes of yours.

Slender fingers reaching down to gingerly touch at where you and Rindo were joined, the light exploratory brushes of his fingertips only serve to intensify your discomfort, as judged from the whimper that escaped your lips. Ran whistled - if that was enough to hurt…. That too failed to stop the smugly grinning executive, the older Haitani never ceasing as he continued to force his way past muscles that failed to keep him out, until he finally bottomed out in you, his balls slapping with enough force to let out an audible squelch. A pause, a temporary mercy to let you adjust to his size alongside Rindo’s, but more for Ran to admire the new expression that tore at your face.

An agonized grimace, a bleed of blood that adorned your plush lips, the idol that captured hearts was lost in the sea of pain he was putting you through. There was something beautiful about it, Ran admitted, as he ran one hand through your sweat-drenched hair, teasingly tracing light patterns into your back - he doubt there were many people who had ever seen this side of you, and it was a privilege he would treasure. The lust came flooding back as your tears fell, and Ran couldn’t resist leaning over to press a kiss to the back of your head before straightening.

“Move Rindo,” Ran grunted, as he started to grind his cock against your walls, pulling out slightly before slamming himself back in. “Move, dammit.”

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“Fucking hell Ran, you’re hurting her!” In a bid to dislodge the other from you, the younger of the two had attempted to roll you over and under him, but the slightest nudge had you crying out at the extra stretch, and Rindo stopped. He wasn’t going to lie that he wasn’t enjoying the extra friction - he had never experienced anything close before - but you were and always will be his first priority. You crying was the last thing he wanted, and the guilt was welling at the base of his gut. What fresh new hell was he putting you through? 

Yet for all the nasty names his brain was yelling at him for not calling off this entire session, for not reaching under his pillow for his gun, Rindo couldn’t bring himself to pull out just yet. Against him knowing better than to continue, his hips began to thrust once more, and said gangster could only shove down the protesting best friend inside him.

He couldn’t tell when him and Ran had synced up, their thrusts falling into a pattern of one in, one out. The sheer friction generated was godly - the divine feeling of his cock rubbing up against another felt through the thin wall that separated your pussy from your ass as they were forced past each other. And as the seconds  - minutes, hours? Rindo had long lost track of time - your own cries of pain died down, you letting out tired whines and grunts as you laid spent on Rindo’s chest, the two brothers too busy hammering their hips against yours in a chase of pleasure to notice. All three of you toppled over that edge at the same time, Rindo letting out a strangled ‘fuck’ before like a tension coil finally allowed to release, his hot cum spurted deep into you as he shuddered against you. And nestled as far as he could push in your ass, Ran’s cock pulsed and shuddered as he too released his load into you. 

Around them, the sudden warmth seemed to trigger a response from you, your walls tightening around them as you came, though you barely twitched, your eyes already half-closed as you laid cuddled against Rindo, exhausted. Letting out a satisfied grunt, Ran finally pulled out of you, falling backwards to sit on the plush bed in a daze, the last dribble of cum drooling from the head of his softening dick. “That was- '' Said mafioso swallowed hard, unable to describe the feeling, though jumbled mind quickly latched on to the white cum starting to seep from both your holes. “Trying to get her pregnant?” 

Post-nut clarity hit Rindo like a truck, and the bliss plastered across his face evaporated, giving way to a dark, angry look. Reaching under his pillow, it was that telltale click as a familiar pistol was pulled from underneath the white covers. “That was you overstaying your welcome,” snarled Rindo, as he leveled the barrel straight at Ran. “Fuck. Off.”

Ran beat a hasty retreat, barely able to push his dick back into his shorts before he disappeared behind the heavy steel bedroom door, said door groaning as it was locked shut with a soft thud. 

Alone once more, the background whirl of the air-conditioning suddenly seemed so loud, the air blowing through unseen grates whistling as it drifted down from the high ceiling. The made-man turned his attention to you, violet eyes softening as he took in your fatigued form and your flushed cheeks. Stripping off his gloves, your best friend carefully rubbing his thumb over where hot tears had torn their way down your delicate skin, before chancing a glance between your legs. Ravaged would have been light - Rindo grimacing at the sight of your still panting pucker, red and inflamed from where it had been forced open. 

Sighing, the man bundled your naked form ever so gently into his arms, shifting his way off the bed and standing with a crack of his knees. You stirred, looking up at him with swollen eyes. “Rin rin?”

He hummed as he crossed the room towards your built-in bathroom. “What is it?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle as it always was when it came to you, a 180 from the feared Bonten gunman who took lives with nay a blink.

“...” You yawned, snuggling into his chest, your eyes fluttering close once more. “Nothing.”

“Hey, no sleeping yet.” He nudged you. “Pee, shower, then doctor.”

“Doctor?”

Just to make sure you were alright down there, Rindo admitted to himself, the guilt that he had suppressed previously now back to eat away at his heart, but he said nothing more to you. He’ll make it up to you, he swore to himself. Somehow, someway. With a click, the yellow lights flicked on, illuminating the marble-floored spotless bathroom.

You piped up again as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “Koko said - Koko said if I made enough money,” you paused, interrupted by another yawn. “You could stop working.”

“I don’t need your fucking money, stupid.” Placing you down on the toilet, the purple-haired man flicked your forehead, rolling his eyes. And that was the truth. It didn’t matter - it had never mattered - what he had to do. All this was for you. All he needed was you.

[no-saints-around-here]

been a hot minute since i've done anything here

heads up, depending on who, it might get kinda gross or be an au* so

[no-saints-around-here]

Hello, i hope you have a nice day! Are requests open at the moment? :)

Hello anon! Requests are open yes, but I am usually quite selective about what I pick to write. Feel free to send it in regardless! :)

[no-saints-around-here]

just to make it clear, attacks on people who comment on or reblog my fics are NOT welcomed - i don't care what you think, i will delete anything i find inappropriate, and will block if you keep doing it.

[no-saints-around-here]

Milk

Yandere Leona Kingscholar & Nursemaid Darling

Masterlist

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just a random short based off of these HCs I did for Leona because i’ve been in a really bad boredom

tw: boobs, bit of smut, dubcon/noncon, reader has female parts, I only know the bare minimum about twisted wonderland so fair warning

Milk? The thought flashed briefly across Leona’s mind as he lounged, sprawled comfortably across his plush chaise lounge, emerald green eyes partially closed as they followed you hurrying around his room with piles of his things bundled up in your arms. He hadn't thought about milk or drinking milk for years now, not since he abandoned the drink for something more 'grown-up', or whatever that meant to a younger him. But if he was being more honest with him, Leona would admit that he hadn't thought about milk since you were relieved of your nursemaid duties by his family the moment the second prince was old enough to care for himself. You had been with him for as long as he could remember, the only person who had been by his side and been on his side, the only soul who gave enough of a shit about him to watch over and teach him.

A flash of your underwear from under the short skirt of your custom staff uniform caught the corner of his eye, and a lazy smirk quirked his lips - it wasn’t like you would have known that Leona had you all but cornered back into uniform. With the help of his parents to pacify their second son of course: all he had asked for in return for him to attend Falena’s crowning ceremony was you, but that part mattered little. What did matter was that you were back in your old job, and that you were once more by his side. Within his grasp where he could keep watch over you, keep you safe from the outside world, just like you did for him when he was young.

A twitch of his ear as he heard the drag of a drawer opening, though he was too lazy to turn and look - by the sound of it, you were folding and putting away his piles of clothes that had been abandoned and strewn in various locations across his enormous room. No surprise that it was one of your top priorities, given that you preferred your things in order; Leona refused to allow any of the regular servants to trespass and dirty his room, though it did help to serve as an excuse for you to spend more time in his territory. His long brown lion tail swished as long forgotten memories washed over the young prince once more, helped along by a whiff of your familiar scent that caught his sensitive nose when you once more crossed more in front of him, this time humming an old tune under your breath with what looked like jewelry in your arms.

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"Milk?" Leona remembered the innocent sleepy question from his toddler-self years ago, one small chubby fist clinging onto your skirt with the other rubbing at his eyes. The sky outside had already been dark for some time, long past his bedtime, but your charge still refused to go to sleep. You had been gone from the palace earlier that day for a few hours on personal business, but for little Leona it had felt like forever; after all, he had never been apart from you for so long before, and was inclined to make up for lost time when you returned. Sighing, you leaned down to scoop the prince into your arms, resting him against your hip - he was getting heavier every day, though fortunately not yet to the point you couldn't carry him.

Goodness only knows the fit Leona would throw when that day came.

“If I pour you a glass of milk, will you go to bed?”

"B-But you were gone earlier," he complained, this time yawning. No doubt Leona had been looking forward to showing you the little ball of light he could summon all day, but with this slipping consciousness, it was beyond what he could manage at the moment. "I wanna play more."

You smiled that brilliant, kind smile at him, snuggling him to your chest as you carried him down empty hallways, the sound of your footsteps against marble floors the only sound that echoed almost hauntingly through the night. "We can play more tomorrow okay? It's late already."

"Y-you promise? You're not going to leave me?"

Crossing your heart with your free hand, it was enough for the young lion prince to be content. The kitchen door slid open noiselessly, and you sat Leona atop one of the counters as you looked in the cupboards for his favorite cup, before turning to show it to him. "This cup okay?" You pointed at the cute print of dancing animals.

But instead of the enthusiastic agreement you had expected, the tanned boy only furrowed his eyebrows at your question. "Why do I have to drink from a cup?"

You blinked. "Sorry?"

"Why do I have to drink from a cup?" The child repeated sullenly. Reaching out to grab the hem of your shirt, Leona pulled it towards him with as much strength as a toddler could manage - not stretching the fabric by much but enough to reveal the top of your bra. "Falena says he always drinks from Mummy. I wanna too."

The world seemed to stop, falling silent as you stared back blankly at the boy, the gears in your head clearly turning as you tried to process what Leona had just said. Your heart pounded away in your ears, jaw slackened - not that the second prince to the Sunset Savanna would know, those emerald green eyes peering back up at you, his tiny fist still wrapped around the fabric of your clothes. You knew he had always been cast to the side in favor of his older brother and crown prince Falena, but how do you go about breaking the news to a child that he had to drink from a cup because his own mother didn’t breastfeed him? It took a minute, but you did manage to compose and pull yourself together, lightly prying those chubby fingers from your shirt. “A-ah, Leona, see I’m not a mummy, so I don’t have milk for you okay?” Your face was completely red and burning as you said that, yet you pressed on. “Can you be a good boy and drink your milk from your cup?”

A crestfallen look instantly washed over Leona’s face, enough to bring tears welling to your eyes despite you not being able to do anything for him - how could anyone not be sympathetic? A small child, abandoned. Instead, biting down your emotions and forcing a smile to your face once more, you offered the cup of milk to your small charge, leaning over to kiss him on the top of his head. “Come on, once you’re done drinking, how about I read you a bedtime story?”

‎‎‎

‎‎‎

“-ona. Leona!” Said man blinked, looking up to find you standing mere inches away from him, waving one hand right in front of his face. “Anyone home?”

Those emerald eyes instantly focused back on you as he was drawn out from his daydreaming. “I’m here,” he drawled, the start of another smirk once more quirking the corner of his lips as he stretched across the couch he was still sprawled on, looking much like a cat would in the moment. 

“I’m done with packing for today, so I’ll be leaving now,” you told the prince, a gentle smile and kind eyes facing him as you withdrew your hand - so small and delicate compared to his now. They had seemed immovable when he was younger. Yet before you could even turn to leave, his own hand shot out to wrap firmly around your wrist, and you paused at the sudden contact, turning to look quizzably at him. So fragile; the Savanaclaw housewarden imagined he could snap it in two with just an ounce more pressure. “Leona? Did you need something else?” A tinge of concern flashed across your expression, and you leaned in closer to press the back of your hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

That care again. You were on his side. You had always been on his side. You lived to serve him and only him. Only he could say when you were leaving.

With his daydreams still plaguing his thoughts, in a single definite pull, Leona yanked both your shirt and bra up in a swift sweep of his arm, your naked breasts tumbling out from beneath your clothes. There was a pause, a silence that swept across the room as you stared down at your lifted shirt baffled, as if even neither you nor the world couldn’t believe what had just happened, what he just did.

Then you started to scream. “L-l-leona??” You seemingly were flushing from head to toe, having been exposed in front of the second prince - your prince. “What are you doing?” But your struggles were for naught as Leona instantly caught both your wrists in one hand in a single smooth move, preventing you from concealing your body from him and pulling you close, though the tanned man didn’t seem as interested in stopping you from screaming. Scream all you like, but the rest of the palace knew better than to step even a toe into his domain. “Let go!”

He didn't even like you that way. Despite what his recent actions seemed to indicate, your once-toddler charge could never see you in any other way than his loving nursemaid, his substitute parent, the only soul that cared about him and that brought him up as your own, even if you were a child yourself then. But it was exactly that that drove the lion prince to his current actions, his fingers, calloused from years of Spelldrive competitions, lifting to harshly pinch one nipple. You yelped, instantly halting your attempted escape.

“Still no milk for me huh?” The prince tsked, though the approval in his voice was enough to completely mask his disappointment. As expected, his hard work had not gone to waste - all those time he spent sneaking about the Sunset Savannah, threatening and roughening up anyone who dared to even breathe your way, pulling strings to have his parents intervene, it had all paid off. You were untainted, pure - you were completely his. “Not even if I rub it like that?” He purred, pulling lightly at your sensitive bud, all the while your face burned more and more, your breath catching as you struggled to come to terms with what was going on.

He could see you bite down on your lips in an attempt to suppress whatever it was that was bubbling up in your throat. Instead, the tone of your voice seemed to have gone up an octave as you pleaded with the unmoved man. “L-leona! Let me go, t-this is extremely inappropriate!”

But what was once scolding words fell on deaf ears; and instead his ears simply twitched - he liked it. He liked the slight desperation in your tone, the horrified look of shame that washed over your face, doe eyes shiny with unshed tears, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds: he liked this side of you. A far cry from the position of authority that you once held over him - the Savannah prince couldn’t think of anything better than getting to know every side of you. Getting to know all of you. Releasing your now-sore nipple from his grip, Leona instead moved to gently massage one breast with his free hand, eyes fixed on you, carefully studying your expression. No matter how you tried to avoid his gaze, tried to wriggle free from his grasp, there was nowhere left for you to hide from him. 

The wind rattled open windows as it circulated freely across the vast room, bringing a relief to the scorching afternoon just outside. But he knew that to you, it was but a mocking reminder of the situation you were trapped in as opposed to being one of the simple pleasures you used to enjoy.

There was nothing more that Leona would like more than to finally have the opportunity to taste your milk, like what he had wanted to do all those years ago. In his mind, this was your duty to him: you were his real mother after all. Sighing, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your other breast, your perked-up rose bud grinded softly between his teeth. Your body froze beneath him. “Shhh, it’s alright,” the tanned man cooed, large, strong hands now trailing down the side of your body. He didn't like you that way, but the young man didn't think he'd mind much if you were his wife. At least he wouldn't have to worry too much about filthy grubby hands soiling someone he held so dear. “I won’t hurt you.” His words were like silk, smooth, strong and deceptively delicate. “Don’t move now.”

Not that he needed to say those last three words out loud - you wouldn’t dare disobey him, given he was royalty and you were not. A particularly hard nibble, and you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped your lips, and the horror immediately followed as your two gentle hands flew up to cover your traitorous mouth, eyes quivering as the tears finally started to fall, rolling and burning down hot cheeks.

Even if you still don’t know it yet, your life was already in his hands. One word, and things fall apart. 

Your tight, short skirt was the first to go, slipped down and carelessly tossed aside, leaving you standing in front of him in just your panties and lifted top. Curious fingers carefully touched between your legs, a drastic departure from his normal crass self and his rough handling of you from just minutes earlier, gently caressing the thin cotton that separated him with his goal. “I just need to make you a mummy, huh?” Leona muttered to himself under his breath.

You obviously caught his words loud and clear in this otherwise lifeless bedroom, flinching as your words from all those years ago rolled off his tongue, back to haunt you like a tormented soul. “Le-Leona. You don’t have to do this.”

He hummed, a solitary, almost haunting note. "I must." A clink, followed by the sound of leather rubbing over fabric, the prince’s belt falling to the floor. You couldn’t look away as he unzipped his pants, pulling it and his boxers down just far enough to allow his length, thick and heavy, to spring out from beneath his clothes. Patting his lap with one hand, the other moved once more to take your hand and tug you to sit, a flash of a memory from long ago overtook his senses. 

And for just that heartbeat, he saw his tiny hand reaching up, wrapped lovingly, comfortingly in your larger one. 

Leona shook his head, and the memory was gone. “Come.” He ordered, forcing your shaking legs apart and pushing aside the crotch of your panties. One way or another, he was getting the milk he was due.

[no-saints-around-here]

Milk

Yandere Leona Kingscholar & Nursemaid Darling

Masterlist

‎‎

just a random short based off of these HCs I did for Leona because i’ve been in a really bad boredom

tw: boobs, bit of smut, dubcon/noncon, reader has female parts, I only know the bare minimum about twisted wonderland so fair warning

Milk? The thought flashed briefly across Leona’s mind as he lounged, sprawled comfortably across his plush chaise lounge, emerald green eyes partially closed as they followed you hurrying around his room with piles of his things bundled up in your arms. He hadn't thought about milk or drinking milk for years now, not since he abandoned the drink for something more 'grown-up', or whatever that meant to a younger him. But if he was being more honest with him, Leona would admit that he hadn't thought about milk since you were relieved of your nursemaid duties by his family the moment the second prince was old enough to care for himself. You had been with him for as long as he could remember, the only person who had been by his side and been on his side, the only soul who gave enough of a shit about him to watch over and teach him.

A flash of your underwear from under the short skirt of your custom staff uniform caught the corner of his eye, and a lazy smirk quirked his lips - it wasn’t like you would have known that Leona had you all but cornered back into uniform. With the help of his parents to pacify their second son of course: all he had asked for in return for him to attend Falena’s crowning ceremony was you, but that part mattered little. What did matter was that you were back in your old job, and that you were once more by his side. Within his grasp where he could keep watch over you, keep you safe from the outside world, just like you did for him when he was young.

A twitch of his ear as he heard the drag of a drawer opening, though he was too lazy to turn and look - by the sound of it, you were folding and putting away his piles of clothes that had been abandoned and strewn in various locations across his enormous room. No surprise that it was one of your top priorities, given that you preferred your things in order; Leona refused to allow any of the regular servants to trespass and dirty his room, though it did help to serve as an excuse for you to spend more time in his territory. His long brown lion tail swished as long forgotten memories washed over the young prince once more, helped along by a whiff of your familiar scent that caught his sensitive nose when you once more crossed more in front of him, this time humming an old tune under your breath with what looked like jewelry in your arms.

‎‎‎‎

‎‎

"Milk?" Leona remembered the innocent sleepy question from his toddler-self years ago, one small chubby fist clinging onto your skirt with the other rubbing at his eyes. The sky outside had already been dark for some time, long past his bedtime, but your charge still refused to go to sleep. You had been gone from the palace earlier that day for a few hours on personal business, but for little Leona it had felt like forever; after all, he had never been apart from you for so long before, and was inclined to make up for lost time when you returned. Sighing, you leaned down to scoop the prince into your arms, resting him against your hip - he was getting heavier every day, though fortunately not yet to the point you couldn't carry him.

Goodness only knows the fit Leona would throw when that day came.

“If I pour you a glass of milk, will you go to bed?”

"B-But you were gone earlier," he complained, this time yawning. No doubt Leona had been looking forward to showing you the little ball of light he could summon all day, but with this slipping consciousness, it was beyond what he could manage at the moment. "I wanna play more."

You smiled that brilliant, kind smile at him, snuggling him to your chest as you carried him down empty hallways, the sound of your footsteps against marble floors the only sound that echoed almost hauntingly through the night. "We can play more tomorrow okay? It's late already."

"Y-you promise? You're not going to leave me?"

Crossing your heart with your free hand, it was enough for the young lion prince to be content. The kitchen door slid open noiselessly, and you sat Leona atop one of the counters as you looked in the cupboards for his favorite cup, before turning to show it to him. "This cup okay?" You pointed at the cute print of dancing animals.

But instead of the enthusiastic agreement you had expected, the tanned boy only furrowed his eyebrows at your question. "Why do I have to drink from a cup?"

You blinked. "Sorry?"

"Why do I have to drink from a cup?" The child repeated sullenly. Reaching out to grab the hem of your shirt, Leona pulled it towards him with as much strength as a toddler could manage - not stretching the fabric by much but enough to reveal the top of your bra. "Falena says he always drinks from Mummy. I wanna too."

The world seemed to stop, falling silent as you stared back blankly at the boy, the gears in your head clearly turning as you tried to process what Leona had just said. Your heart pounded away in your ears, jaw slackened - not that the second prince to the Sunset Savanna would know, those emerald green eyes peering back up at you, his tiny fist still wrapped around the fabric of your clothes. You knew he had always been cast to the side in favor of his older brother and crown prince Falena, but how do you go about breaking the news to a child that he had to drink from a cup because his own mother didn’t breastfeed him? It took a minute, but you did manage to compose and pull yourself together, lightly prying those chubby fingers from your shirt. “A-ah, Leona, see I’m not a mummy, so I don’t have milk for you okay?” Your face was completely red and burning as you said that, yet you pressed on. “Can you be a good boy and drink your milk from your cup?”

A crestfallen look instantly washed over Leona’s face, enough to bring tears welling to your eyes despite you not being able to do anything for him - how could anyone not be sympathetic? A small child, abandoned. Instead, biting down your emotions and forcing a smile to your face once more, you offered the cup of milk to your small charge, leaning over to kiss him on the top of his head. “Come on, once you’re done drinking, how about I read you a bedtime story?”

‎‎‎

‎‎‎

“-ona. Leona!” Said man blinked, looking up to find you standing mere inches away from him, waving one hand right in front of his face. “Anyone home?”

Those emerald eyes instantly focused back on you as he was drawn out from his daydreaming. “I’m here,” he drawled, the start of another smirk once more quirking the corner of his lips as he stretched across the couch he was still sprawled on, looking much like a cat would in the moment. 

“I’m done with packing for today, so I’ll be leaving now,” you told the prince, a gentle smile and kind eyes facing him as you withdrew your hand - so small and delicate compared to his now. They had seemed immovable when he was younger. Yet before you could even turn to leave, his own hand shot out to wrap firmly around your wrist, and you paused at the sudden contact, turning to look quizzably at him. So fragile; the Savanaclaw housewarden imagined he could snap it in two with just an ounce more pressure. “Leona? Did you need something else?” A tinge of concern flashed across your expression, and you leaned in closer to press the back of your hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

That care again. You were on his side. You had always been on his side. You lived to serve him and only him. Only he could say when you were leaving.

With his daydreams still plaguing his thoughts, in a single definite pull, Leona yanked both your shirt and bra up in a swift sweep of his arm, your naked breasts tumbling out from beneath your clothes. There was a pause, a silence that swept across the room as you stared down at your lifted shirt baffled, as if even neither you nor the world couldn’t believe what had just happened, what he just did.

Then you started to scream. “L-l-leona??” You seemingly were flushing from head to toe, having been exposed in front of the second prince - your prince. “What are you doing?” But your struggles were for naught as Leona instantly caught both your wrists in one hand in a single smooth move, preventing you from concealing your body from him and pulling you close, though the tanned man didn’t seem as interested in stopping you from screaming. Scream all you like, but the rest of the palace knew better than to step even a toe into his domain. “Let go!”

He didn't even like you that way. Despite what his recent actions seemed to indicate, your once-toddler charge could never see you in any other way than his loving nursemaid, his substitute parent, the only soul that cared about him and that brought him up as your own, even if you were a child yourself then. But it was exactly that that drove the lion prince to his current actions, his fingers, calloused from years of Spelldrive competitions, lifting to harshly pinch one nipple. You yelped, instantly halting your attempted escape.

“Still no milk for me huh?” The prince tsked, though the approval in his voice was enough to completely mask his disappointment. As expected, his hard work had not gone to waste - all those time he spent sneaking about the Sunset Savannah, threatening and roughening up anyone who dared to even breathe your way, pulling strings to have his parents intervene, it had all paid off. You were untainted, pure - you were completely his. “Not even if I rub it like that?” He purred, pulling lightly at your sensitive bud, all the while your face burned more and more, your breath catching as you struggled to come to terms with what was going on.

He could see you bite down on your lips in an attempt to suppress whatever it was that was bubbling up in your throat. Instead, the tone of your voice seemed to have gone up an octave as you pleaded with the unmoved man. “L-leona! Let me go, t-this is extremely inappropriate!”

But what was once scolding words fell on deaf ears; and instead his ears simply twitched - he liked it. He liked the slight desperation in your tone, the horrified look of shame that washed over your face, doe eyes shiny with unshed tears, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds: he liked this side of you. A far cry from the position of authority that you once held over him - the Savannah prince couldn’t think of anything better than getting to know every side of you. Getting to know all of you. Releasing your now-sore nipple from his grip, Leona instead moved to gently massage one breast with his free hand, eyes fixed on you, carefully studying your expression. No matter how you tried to avoid his gaze, tried to wriggle free from his grasp, there was nowhere left for you to hide from him. 

The wind rattled open windows as it circulated freely across the vast room, bringing a relief to the scorching afternoon just outside. But he knew that to you, it was but a mocking reminder of the situation you were trapped in as opposed to being one of the simple pleasures you used to enjoy.

There was nothing more that Leona would like more than to finally have the opportunity to taste your milk, like what he had wanted to do all those years ago. In his mind, this was your duty to him: you were his real mother after all. Sighing, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your other breast, your perked-up rose bud grinded softly between his teeth. Your body froze beneath him. “Shhh, it’s alright,” the tanned man cooed, large, strong hands now trailing down the side of your body. He didn't like you that way, but the young man didn't think he'd mind much if you were his wife. At least he wouldn't have to worry too much about filthy grubby hands soiling someone he held so dear. “I won’t hurt you.” His words were like silk, smooth, strong and deceptively delicate. “Don’t move now.”

Not that he needed to say those last three words out loud - you wouldn’t dare disobey him, given he was royalty and you were not. A particularly hard nibble, and you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped your lips, and the horror immediately followed as your two gentle hands flew up to cover your traitorous mouth, eyes quivering as the tears finally started to fall, rolling and burning down hot cheeks.

Even if you still don’t know it yet, your life was already in his hands. One word, and things fall apart. 

Your tight, short skirt was the first to go, slipped down and carelessly tossed aside, leaving you standing in front of him in just your panties and lifted top. Curious fingers carefully touched between your legs, a drastic departure from his normal crass self and his rough handling of you from just minutes earlier, gently caressing the thin cotton that separated him with his goal. “I just need to make you a mummy, huh?” Leona muttered to himself under his breath.

You obviously caught his words loud and clear in this otherwise lifeless bedroom, flinching as your words from all those years ago rolled off his tongue, back to haunt you like a tormented soul. “Le-Leona. You don’t have to do this.”

He hummed, a solitary, almost haunting note. "I must." A clink, followed by the sound of leather rubbing over fabric, the prince’s belt falling to the floor. You couldn’t look away as he unzipped his pants, pulling it and his boxers down just far enough to allow his length, thick and heavy, to spring out from beneath his clothes. Patting his lap with one hand, the other moved once more to take your hand and tug you to sit, a flash of a memory from long ago overtook his senses. 

And for just that heartbeat, he saw his tiny hand reaching up, wrapped lovingly, comfortingly in your larger one. 

Leona shook his head, and the memory was gone. “Come.” He ordered, forcing your shaking legs apart and pushing aside the crotch of your panties. One way or another, he was getting the milk he was due.

[no-saints-around-here]

Me, thinking of ceo baji fucking his secretary darling in his office, sitting in his big office chair and bouncing his pretty darling on his length, enjoying her moans and mewls of his name. He’s slightly scared someone would walk in and see his darling in his lap but it’s hard to focus on that worry when he’s enjoying the bliss of being in his darling sweet cunt, he never admits it, but he’s absolutely addicted to it, and his darling pulling the fistful of hair in her hand as she rides him is making his dick harder then possible, it’s hard for him to not immediately cum when she yanks on his hair.

been a while since I've written Baji!

Recommended Reading: BFF Yan CEO Baji and Secretary Reader Hcs

Masterlist

‎‎‎

tw: mentions of violence, nsfw

Yes, yes and hell yes??!

Everyone from the janitor to the second-in-line in the company knows that Baji thinks the world of you, his little secretary, and that the boss heavily favours, if not outright worships, you; it's basically an open secret at this point that no one should even think to approach you and ask for you to do your job, let alone a favour, on the threat of losing their job or worse. And any outsider looking in would think that the power dynamics of this relationship would swing heavily in Baji’s favour, but it couldn't be further from the truth. He's a cocky dude at work, utmost confidence in his ability and too good at what he does; people look up to him and rivals are frightened of him. Yet there was no doubt that you were the one in the driver seat of this relationship, mostly because Baji is still too baby to dare to touch you - to defile you - without you initiating.

You're usually so meek, so patient, so kind, and with everything that his mother had drilled into him about respecting women, this CEO is just so flustered and shy when it comes to his little light. His reason for living. Yandere Baji does not play around when it comes to you, because if he makes one wrong move and you get mad at him, he doesn't know what he is going to do besides cry and grovel. But luckily for him, you not only like him enough to generously grant him your time of day, but your arousal is high enough that you don't need him to initiate.

You always have to be the one to make the first move on your boss. It doesn't matter when it is or what he is doing, you know that you and your needs will always come first - and Baji would not hesitate to stop the world from spinning just so that he can feast his eyes on you pulling your skirt off ever so teasingly, grinding your already dripping, panties covered pussy against his tented pants, your pouty lips mumbling his name as you throw your arms dramatically over his neck. All he can do his gulp and stare.

Don't get him wrong, you coming on to him is his favourite part of any day. It's what he dreams of at night if he is forced to sleep alone, your flushed face and partially open mouth panting and whining his name painted on the back of his eyelids. Loves the feeling of you softly running your hand through his hair one instant, only to yank it to its roots in the next when you grunt in pain at his dick being too big to fit in you in one go. Loves it to the point that he will cum if you do it, but also enough that if you're sitting on his lap and not running your fingers through his silky soft hair, Baji would assume he did something wrong and that you're mad at him. Cue whining and whimpering and anything besides directly asking you to please gently scrap his scalp with your nails.

He's scared of someone coming up, walking out of the lift, and seeing you bouncing on his cock and moaning his name; not because its unprofessional. Baji would argue with a straight face that its more unprofessional to dare pop by his office, the CEO's office mind you, without making a prior appointment (which is almost impossible to do so, given he doesn't allow anyone to talk to you) compared to having his lover fucking her own brains out on his dick. No, he's worried that someone else other than him gets to see you naked. Seeing you nude is his and only his privilege to enjoy - Baji would never share that with anyone else. No one else deserves you.

Doesn't matter if you want him raw or covered, Baji is just happy to be able to bury his cock in your warm walls amidst everything he has to offer you - the view of the city skyline from his penthouse office with floor to ceiling windows, his big office chair and massive walnut table that represents his value to the company and the stacks that he is paid, and the littering of expensive gifts and trinkets that he loves to shower you in. There's no pretence of being professional between the two of you; Baji protects his little secretary like a dog guarding its territory, and has no qualms taking meetings with his subordinates with you perched on the arm of his chair or in his lap. Would even wear a collar with yours and his name etched on it, but only if you do the same - this man wants everyone want to know who he belongs to, and a promise of how they would lose their limbs if they tried to make a move on you.

Don't get this man wrong though, he lets you hold the reins in the relationship because he wants to - he wants nothing more than for you be happy, and he likes what you are doing to him. But the moment you step out of line, try to resign, try to leave the company, try to leave him, Baji will pull every last string he has to keep you by his side. He likes you to be happy but he doesn't need you to be happy; as long as you were by his side. As long as you belonged to him, and only to him. Baji's a very powerful man, and no one is going to stand in the way of him getting what he wants. People tend to...disappear if they dare shoot an ugly look your way in his face, and there's no corner of the earth you can run to to hide from him.

[no-saints-around-here]

Me, thinking of ceo baji fucking his secretary darling in his office, sitting in his big office chair and bouncing his pretty darling on his length, enjoying her moans and mewls of his name. He’s slightly scared someone would walk in and see his darling in his lap but it’s hard to focus on that worry when he’s enjoying the bliss of being in his darling sweet cunt, he never admits it, but he’s absolutely addicted to it, and his darling pulling the fistful of hair in her hand as she rides him is making his dick harder then possible, it’s hard for him to not immediately cum when she yanks on his hair.

been a while since I've written Baji!

Recommended Reading: BFF Yan CEO Baji and Secretary Reader Hcs

Masterlist

‎‎‎

tw: mentions of violence, nsfw

Yes, yes and hell yes??!

Everyone from the janitor to the second-in-line in the company knows that Baji thinks the world of you, his little secretary, and that the boss heavily favours, if not outright worships, you; it's basically an open secret at this point that no one should even think to approach you and ask for you to do your job, let alone a favour, on the threat of losing their job or worse. And any outsider looking in would think that the power dynamics of this relationship would swing heavily in Baji’s favour, but it couldn't be further from the truth. He's a cocky dude at work, utmost confidence in his ability and too good at what he does; people look up to him and rivals are frightened of him. Yet there was no doubt that you were the one in the driver seat of this relationship, mostly because Baji is still too baby to dare to touch you - to defile you - without you initiating.

You're usually so meek, so patient, so kind, and with everything that his mother had drilled into him about respecting women, this CEO is just so flustered and shy when it comes to his little light. His reason for living. Yandere Baji does not play around when it comes to you, because if he makes one wrong move and you get mad at him, he doesn't know what he is going to do besides cry and grovel. But luckily for him, you not only like him enough to generously grant him your time of day, but your arousal is high enough that you don't need him to initiate.

You always have to be the one to make the first move on your boss. It doesn't matter when it is or what he is doing, you know that you and your needs will always come first - and Baji would not hesitate to stop the world from spinning just so that he can feast his eyes on you pulling your skirt off ever so teasingly, grinding your already dripping, panties covered pussy against his tented pants, your pouty lips mumbling his name as you throw your arms dramatically over his neck. All he can do his gulp and stare.

Don't get him wrong, you coming on to him is his favourite part of any day. It's what he dreams of at night if he is forced to sleep alone, your flushed face and partially open mouth panting and whining his name painted on the back of his eyelids. Loves the feeling of you softly running your hand through his hair one instant, only to yank it to its roots in the next when you grunt in pain at his dick being too big to fit in you in one go. Loves it to the point that he will cum if you do it, but also enough that if you're sitting on his lap and not running your fingers through his silky soft hair, Baji would assume he did something wrong and that you're mad at him. Cue whining and whimpering and anything besides directly asking you to please gently scrap his scalp with your nails.

He's scared of someone coming up, walking out of the lift, and seeing you bouncing on his cock and moaning his name; not because its unprofessional. Baji would argue with a straight face that its more unprofessional to dare pop by his office, the CEO's office mind you, without making a prior appointment (which is almost impossible to do so, given he doesn't allow anyone to talk to you) compared to having his lover fucking her own brains out on his dick. No, he's worried that someone else other than him gets to see you naked. Seeing you nude is his and only his privilege to enjoy - Baji would never share that with anyone else. No one else deserves you.

Doesn't matter if you want him raw or covered, Baji is just happy to be able to bury his cock in your warm walls amidst everything he has to offer you - the view of the city skyline from his penthouse office with floor to ceiling windows, his big office chair and massive walnut table that represents his value to the company and the stacks that he is paid, and the littering of expensive gifts and trinkets that he loves to shower you in. There's no pretence of being professional between the two of you; Baji protects his little secretary like a dog guarding its territory, and has no qualms taking meetings with his subordinates with you perched on the arm of his chair or in his lap. Would even wear a collar with yours and his name etched on it, but only if you do the same - this man wants everyone want to know who he belongs to, and a promise of how they would lose their limbs if they tried to make a move on you.

Don't get this man wrong though, he lets you hold the reins in the relationship because he wants to - he wants nothing more than for you be happy, and he likes what you are doing to him. But the moment you step out of line, try to resign, try to leave the company, try to leave him, Baji will pull every last string he has to keep you by his side. He likes you to be happy but he doesn't need you to be happy; as long as you were by his side. As long as you belonged to him, and only to him. Baji's a very powerful man, and no one is going to stand in the way of him getting what he wants. People tend to...disappear if they dare shoot an ugly look your way in his face, and there's no corner of the earth you can run to to hide from him.

[no-saints-around-here]

Me and You, Here and Now

Yandere Yakuza Boss Izana ABO AU

Masterlist

‎‎‎

tw: reader has female parts, reverse abo dynamics (stronger omega), suggestive murder, explicit nsfw, dead dove do not eat

special thanks to @trashybandit for beta reading this!

The front door to your apartment creaked open, and a head of white hair poked in cautiously, empty violet eyes scanning the darkened room. “Coast is clear,” Izana whispered to himself, before letting out a small giggle at the silliness of it all. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known where you were the entire time; it was just that he had never been able to catch you at the best moment. Cracking the door slightly wider, the tanned man let himself in, humming a soft tune as he eased his gym bag through as small an opening as possible before immediately closing and locking the door behind him. From a single deep breath, it was clear that the air inside was stale; neither your door nor windows had been opened in the past twenty-four hours. There were no signs of life anywhere else in the small living area you called home - a thin layer of undisturbed dust coated the kitchen counter, something you would never allow to happen, nor was there a drop of water collected in the dishes tray. To any regular soul that made up the majority of society, it would be reasonable to assume that you weren’t home, and you hadn’t been home. Yet there was no doubt in Izana’s mind that you were here; his sensitive nose could pick up the traces of pheromones that still lingered on the surfaces you had touched. After all, an alpha would always be more attuned to both omegas and other alphas than regular humans would ever be.

Setting his black leather bag down lightly on the worn wooden floors, Izana made light work of stripping off his business suit; he did come straight from work after all, and being a yakuza boss could leave the stench of filthy blood and other people on his clothes. He rather not distract you with any other smell but his. Pulling off his silk scarf and thick woolen coat, those were neatly folded and left atop your spotless sofa before he got to loosening and removing his tie, slender fingers quickly working to unbutton both his vest and the soft white tuxedo shirt. With each minute that passed, the impatience only bubbled and grew in his gut, and it was getting harder and harder for the man to not fuck it all with this bothersome undressing and seek you out immediately, his eyes narrowing at nothing in particular as he quickly kicked off his prized handcrafted Italian leather shoes - there was nothing he could care more in the moment but you. You were waiting for him, in heat and in pain, and he needed you. Badly.

Just outside, separated by a thin wooden door: a quiet, typical suburban neighborhood, a usual silent weekday night; regular (betas, as Izana called them) families going about their usual evening routines, winding down for the day and preparing for the next. The last silver of sun that still peaked over the horizon threatened to disappear at any moment, the night and its cape of stars eager to begin its reign. A crackle of electricity, and the streetlamp that had stood faithfully next to your apartment block flickered on right on schedule, its strong yellow light filtering through your still curtains and casting a patterned shadow onto the floor. But behind the privacy of a locked door and drawn curtains, the feared mafia head could only sigh contently as he let his pajama shirt slip down over his head to cover his toned torso, loose, comfortable pants having been pulled over silk boxers. There was no stronger smell that one could bring to an omega’s heat than sleepwear that had been worn consistently for a week, and combined with the rest of the pieces of clothing that Izana had brought as offerings to line your nest with were equally well-worn and scented, there would be no mistaking who it was that came to woo you.

Bending slightly to pick his gym bag back up from the ground, a lustful hunger - an almost desperate need - sparked to life in those usually empty eyes; now, to hunt. 

Where were you hiding? 

There weren’t many places you could be in to begin with, not in this tiny apartment, and even fewer where you would be while in heat. Nests were usually tucked away in the dark corners of the house, as per the general preference of omegas when they went into heat: smell-proof, sound-proof pods provided by the government as part of a support program, though Izana knew from firsthand experience that there was at least enough space for two. Letting out a hum, the tanned man looked almost at home with the ease he ducked around corners and drummed the tips of his fingers against counters, making a beeline for the master bedroom; even if you had never once been invited him over to this new place of yours, it was clear he knew his way around like the back of his hand.

And pulling open an inconspicuous pair of door shutters, one of several that lined the far wall of your bedroom, the tinted glass window of your pod, tucked away in an unused wardrobe, gleamed back at him. A room within a room, a little cozy box that served as both your slice of heaven and your prison for the duration of your heat: Izana didn’t doubt that you were a lot safer from the dangers of the world inside than outside, your heavenly, addictive scent locked away from those who would do you harm. But right now, the man thought to himself, his pants already tenting as he eagerly reached for the handle of the entrance - right now there was no doubt you were still the safest with him. 

Like the creep of a fog along the forest floor, the sweet tantalizing aroma of your pheromones, combined with the freezing cold of air conditioning, came rolling out as the door was carefully pulled open, an invitation, a siren’s call to your former lover that tempted him into the dimly lit depths. The yakuza boss was only happy to take the bait, easing the black duffel bag through before him.  

‎

You were completely naked, plump flesh shiny with beaded perspiration that your hair stuck haphazardly to despite the temperature being several degrees lower than the already cool night outside, thick thighs splayed open as if to display your drooling private parts for him to feast his eyes upon. Your breasts were larger, heftier, than what they usually were, engorged by the sheer amount of hormones currently flooding your system, nipples already perked and at attention. Long, ugly scratches, now just barely scabbed over, framed your leaking pussy, where you must have raked your nails again and again in an attempt to relieve yourself from the lack of fulfillment, only to have both hands bound to protect yourself from you. Yet all Izana could focus on was you, his gaze unable to tear away as he drank in the tortured expression that pulled at your face, eyebrows furrowed, your lips contorted and twisted as you struggled in vain to find relief from the incessant arousal that was driving you to the brink of insanity.

“There you are, love.” Violet eyes, usually empty and cold, instantly lit up as they laid sight on you, the door swinging shut silently behind him.

Your head instantly lifted at his voice, a whine escaping your lips before you could stop yourself. It was certainly a reaction to the intense smell of his pheromones - an alpha's pheromones - hitting your nose. A promise of reprieve; a real mate who could satisfy your burning needs and quench the ache between your legs. But it seemed no matter whatever your empty womb was screaming at you, your mind was still the one in charge for now. And he was not who you had been expecting. “I-Izzy?” You looked completely confused at his sudden appearance. Your pupils were completely dilated, and Izana doubted if you could see anything more than a blob in your doorway, though your nose was certainly working. He was glad that you still remembered his scent. “You’re here?” 

Very carefully, Izana crouched to set his gym bag down gingerly, making no sudden or abrupt movement that could surprise you. An almost one-eighty role reversal from his stalking of you from earlier; the white-haired man was suddenly the prey caught in the headlights before your predatory, hungry eyes. The plush floor was soft yet cool against his bare feet as he slowly prodded his way nearer, conscious of the ensnared knots of sheets and what-not that brushed against his toes. “It’s me, baby girl.” He assured you, his tone gentle, warm and comforting, a far cry from the nonchalant, almost playful one that his victims know all too well. "You okay?"

You only grunted and whined in response, the entire pod shuddering under his feet as you struggled, though the handcuffs that kept your hands strung from the ceiling remained firm. 

His cute nickname had always been a misnomer for you when compared to him, Izana knew; as an omega, you were taller, larger and a hella lot stronger than he was. If he stretched it to its limits, the yakuza boss could argue that something as unassuming as 'baby girl' was at least kind of fitting for the regular you: a soft, kind-hearted soul that was so very aware and cautious of yourself. Yet at the peak of your heat with hormones flooding your system and your lust consuming your mind, you certainly weren't someone that the alpha wanted to tick off. More well-built than a beta male he was, but one wrong move and you would snap him in two between your thighs like a stick. 

“Y-you’re not supposed to be here.”

But you were his. You had always been his, and you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Raw strength was just one factor, and no doubt this yakuza boss had many other cards to play. This time, this time he would make sure to claim you once and for all, and make it stick.

Izana ignored your statement. “It’s alright, love. ‘M here now.” His voice was low, a guttural undertone, yet the tanned man still made no move to approach you, instead moving to pull the first of many clothing articles from the bag, bundling it up and tossing it like a ball at you, the cream woolen shirt landing softly on your chest. Taking a step back as you paused in your shifting to cautiously sniff at the new offering presented, it was the first time Izana pulled his gaze away from you, glancing around the pod in which you had built your nest and spent the last few days. 

Bundles of sheets and clothes carefully packed and tangled into a comfortable albeit makeshift mattress, Izana noted that the various shirts and sweaters you laid didn’t belong to you - he had never had any reports of you buying them, nor did they smell entirely like you despite you having drenched everything in your fluids. Combined with the fact that you had been left bound for an unknown period of time, his theory of there being another before him had been right. He was glad he acted on his hunch. If he had been wrong, it would have been just another mark to his already stained name. But now that he was provably right, at least that scum wasn’t something he nor you had to worry about.  Not now, not anymore. 

As you continued to squint suspiciously at his sweater, Izana retrieved another piece, this time a pair of shorts, and flung it to join his sweater on your chest, making sure to keep his gaze down and off of you: he knew you were particular about potential mates looking at you during your evaluation. He knew the cogs were turning in your mind as you struggled between rationality and your need to be filled, his strong, familiar scent as enticing to you as yours was to him. He knew you better than the back of his own hand. 

With your extremely heightened senses, the minimal dim yellow lighting within the pod, combined with the extremely tinted windows, were at just the right comfort level for you. Not that it mattered to his courting ritual - you relied almost completely on your sense of smell during this vulnerable period, and it was the overlapping scents of different pheromones that seemed to confuse you, the made man simply listening on as you alternated sniffing at his clothes and the air around your nest.

"Wh-where m-mate?" You stuttered out of the blue, your mind momentarily winning over the insatiable lust.

“Gone. He left, sweetheart.” 

‎

You whined, whimpered, the high-pitched whistle that escaped your lips - a similar yet different tune that you had used with him - meant to call for your mate to return to you. But there was no one to answer your call in the small, dark space. “Left?” You repeated in disbelief, your voice pitching up. “He left?”

The pod rattled as you attempted to break free from your cuffs, whistling again with more desperation, your chest heaving from the effort as your legs tried and failed to gain the traction you needed against the padded floor again and again, Izana’s offerings sliding off and into the dark abyss of the floor. “Left? Gone? Left?” Completely dilated eyes looked wildly in every direction, as if the nobody you had seduced and manipulated into being your fucktoy was hiding in a corner; your former lover was surprisingly content with watching you work yourself into a frenzy from a safe distance, violet eyes roaming over your body. He had no intention of getting caught up in your thrashing.

A beta male - that was who you picked to fuck you through your heat. A nobody from society’s majority that would have never been able to fulfill you, that would have never been able to get you pregnant, that you would have never been able to mark and bond with. A piece of trash that would have happily gone on his meaningless, worthless life, never earning the feared yakuza’s attention if he had simply stayed away from you. And now he’s left - not of his own accord, but you didn’t need to know that.

You must have been waiting for him all this time.

"He never loved you like I do, baby girl,” the man cooed, stripping his shirt off to reveal toned abs, taking a bold step forward, your eyes immediately swiveling back to fix on him, despairing doe eyes brimming with unshed tears. “That scum was just using you all this time."

The cold air whirled down quietly from the ceiling, a silent ballet that filled the background of your breathing as you tried to wrap your mind around what he was saying, your eyebrows furrowing and twitching as your struggles died down - it couldn’t be easy losing your other half while you were actively in heat, but it was a good sign that you hadn’t attacked him just yet. 

“He’s a little cheater as well.” Izana continued, pulling off his soft pajama pants before taking another step closer, now left in just his silky boxers. All his hair was standing on ends with the glacial temperatures in the pod, yet the tanned man bit down and suppressed as much of his shivering as he could. There was no need to give you any form of weakness to exploit. “Out playing with other mates while you’re suffering in here.” 

A lie, so what? The expression on your face turned confused, your lips flapping for several moments without sound before your voice emerged once more. “O-out? Others?” It was clear that you were completely bewildered by the changing situation and Izana’s lies, your brain cocked up on hormones and your mind melting from lust, unable to think straight or tell facts from falsehoods. All to Izana’s favor, of course.

“Mmmm. He’s never home to look after you.”

“He-he was-”

The delinquent cut you off. “No, he never was. He never bothered to spend any time with you, I know. Hated you, hated being with you. Leaving you alone to go party and drink the night away.”

Your eyes showed the conflicting thoughts raging away behind; you were doubting yourself. Doubting your memories, doubting the subhuman you picked. “He wasn’t?”

“No. He even laid hands on you, remember? Beat you so bad the police were involved.” His low, smooth voice whispered back, soothing and confident. Just a little more - all Izana needed was a little more to tip you over to his side, to believe the little lies he told you. You weren’t going to remember much after the high of your heat anyway, only that you two were bound and marked for life. “But I’m here. I’m here to look after you, baby girl. I’ve always been here for you.”

He wanted you he wanted you he wanted you so bad-

‎

Now just within arm’s reach of you, Izana teasingly snapped the elastic waistband of his boxers, and like butterflies to syrup, those wondrous, beautiful blown eyes of yours snapped downwards. And under your judging gaze, the tanned man slowly pulled down the last remaining article of clothing he had on him, revealing his bare body to you. Straightening up revealed the thick, heavy cock that hung between his legs, erect and straining. Individual strands of white hair that decorated his pubic area shimmered even in the dim light, a well-groomed frame that only helped to enhance the desirability of his cock. Izana couldn’t help but puff up at the catch of your breath, thrusting his hip slightly higher for you to get a better look. He knew what your body lusted for, what your heart was screaming and begging for; only he could fulfill you. Only he loved you.

He could all but feel your warm walls surrounding him, squeezing and clenching down around his length - a recurring dream that he had lived through night after night. His version of heaven that he had lived through once, and yearned to live in forever. But not yet. 

Carefully adding his newest offering of his recently worn pajamas, as well as his underwear, atop your breasts and as close to your face as possible, his tanned hand was just inches shy of brushing against your bare hot skin. If you accepted something so intimate from him, it would be time for the next stage. “It’s me, baby girl. Izzy. You remember me, don’t you?”

‎‎

Like a wave washing over you, the look behind your eyes changed; a certain ferocity roaring to life, overpowering and consuming the almost timid personality the real you had been hiding behind. You had walked straight into his trap. He had been accepted. Yet with your hands still bound above your head, there was little you could do. "Izzy, it- it hurts so bad." You whimpered, wriggling, shifting around in your nest of clothes. Trying to hump yourself against your nest did little to ease your suffering. You needed a dick inside you to soothe the ache and pain. You needed him. "Untie. P-please."

"You know I'll do anything for you, love. But you'll have to do something for me first, okay?"

Coercing. Mate-stealing. Highly illegal crimes that came with hefty punishments for him to be here, courting an omega in the midst of their heat who had already picked their mate. But those stuffy government folks could just add it to his list if they ever grew the balls to come after such a notorious figure as him.

“He didn’t fulfill you, did he, baby girl? He doesn’t know you like I do.” You were hot, burning hot as Izana pressed himself up against you between your legs, his hard dick rubbing firmly against the apex of your legs, your skin radiating heat that warmed his own to its core. The friction against your sensitive clit was a tantalizing glimpse - a promise - of what was to come. “I will, but I want you to mark me first.”

“Mark?” You frowned. “No mark.”

“Mark first.” Izana insisted, leaning forward and tiptoeing to press a chaste kiss to your lips, one hand caressing your cheek even as the other dipped down to play with the rim of your anus. He was lucky to be as tall as he is - even with you seated, the man could barely reach your face while he was humping your pussy. “No mark, no sex.” He whispered into your ear as he kissed a trail down your face and neck.

The normal you would have never agreed. You weren’t interested in marking anyone just yet, and you weren’t ready to mark him, but he wasn’t having it. There was no life, no world without his sun to orbit around, to give his life purpose and meaning, and he needed to make sure that you would only be his. Bound to him forever. He couldn’t live without you. 

Your expression turned ugly in the blink of an eye, and the hiss that seeped from between bared teeth was hair-raising as Izana attempted to nibble down on the marking glands at the crook of your neck. The yakuza boss immediately reeled, pulling away just in time to avoid the swing of your leg, narrowed eyes following the daring alpha as he backed off with both his hands raised in surrender. 

But in the blink of an eye, the anger was gone, evaporated into the blistering cold of the pod, the lust washing over your expression once more. "P-please." You whined, and the tanned man carefully slithered back up to you, eager for the warmth of your embrace - he had made the mistake of rushing the courting process. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

“Dump him. Take me back.” Exposing the crook of his own neck, the harsh grinding of his dick against you only getting firmer as his pheromones filled the air. “Just one mark, and I’ll be all yours. Fuck as long as you want.” He promised. 

‎

You finally caved, a growl gurgling forth from the base of your throat as you lurched forward, biting down and sinking your teeth into the corner of his neck. Izana whimpered, body shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline that swept through him, violet eyes rolling into the back of his head as you drew blood from his marking glands. You were his. You had marked him, and you were his. Now and forever. 

With a smooth stroke, Izana plunged his entire length into you, the skin of his hip meeting yours in a violet slap. You reeled, releasing him from your teeth, throwing your head back as your toes curled as the other began to pump, long strokes that had him pull himself as far out as he could go before slamming himself back in. Your drooling pussy was more than lubricated enough to take his fat cock without any further preparations, warm walls that clamped down hard around him, milking him for all he was worth. Your body was demanding, a cruel mistress that wanted more and more, and Izana would happily give you anything and everything you wanted. He was all yours.

Brushing your hair aside, he licked your glands several times, enjoying the entire strength of your pheromones and the mild tingling it gave his tongue before chomping down on the crook of your neck - your blood really was as sweet as you. And that was all it took for him to step over the edge of pleasure, and his thrusting became erratic as he came in you, hot cum spurting as deep into you as Izana could go. 

Slumping slightly to take a breath, it was with one trembling hand that the yakuza boss reached out to keep his promise to free you. All it took was a single press of a button on the side of your pod, and the real monster you had temporarily buried emerged the moment your hands were finally freed. You wasted no time in wrapping both around the tanned man’s comparatively tiny waist, strong, muscular arms bodily lifting him into the air with ease. “You better not already be soft,” you snarled, as you lined the tip of his still hard cock up with your still lustful pussy, forcibly pushing him into you once more and setting a brutal pace as you manhandled him as if he weighed nothing more than a doll. As if his dick was no different from a large, warm dildo that occasionally filled you up. “Keep going. More. More.”

White hair flew back and forth at such a speed that it seemed even they had forgotten how to move as you wrangled Izana into going at your pace. One thick digit you had pressed into his anus and firmly kept against his prostate, an attempt to keep the cock that you were thrusting furiously against yourself hard for as long as possible as you licked and salivated over both crooks of his neck before pressing your lips against his in a bruising kiss. “Mine,” you growled, as Izana came again inside you, his body twitching and jerking in your grasp, pressed firmly between your thick thighs. His tongue was loose and heavy, impossible to move into forming any words except grunts and groans, his eyes rolled up in constant pleasure. But there was no rest for the wicked, the white-haired yakuza boss simply made to ride out his orgasm as you started to bounce him once more. You knew he could take it. 

There was no telling how long this session was going to last, but one thing that was clear here and now was that he was entirely yours. 

Outside, the night starry sky had long dominated the sky, yet Kakucho still sat right outside your front door, hand loosely wrapped around the handle of the gun hidden beneath his coat. Even if he had been given strict orders to stop anyone who tried to access your unit, the black-haired man doubted that there would be any trouble - you were an unstoppable force of nature yourself from the short period of time he knew you, and no one would be giving you trouble you didn’t actively get yourself into. He could only hope that his white-haired best friend was still alive and well. Still, the precaution was probably warranted given the smell of you in heat could attract unmarked alphas in the area, not that Kakucho would know what that smelled like.

Taking another chug of soda, his sole working gray eye wandered up from the quiet, uneventful neighborhood to stare at the bright moon beaming down at him. It was probably going to be a long night.

[no-saints-around-here]

Me and You, Here and Now

Yandere Yakuza Boss Izana ABO AU

Masterlist

‎‎‎

tw: reader has female parts, reverse abo dynamics (stronger omega), suggestive murder, explicit nsfw, dead dove do not eat

special thanks to @trashybandit for beta reading this!

The front door to your apartment creaked open, and a head of white hair poked in cautiously, empty violet eyes scanning the darkened room. “Coast is clear,” Izana whispered to himself, before letting out a small giggle at the silliness of it all. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known where you were the entire time; it was just that he had never been able to catch you at the best moment. Cracking the door slightly wider, the tanned man let himself in, humming a soft tune as he eased his gym bag through as small an opening as possible before immediately closing and locking the door behind him. From a single deep breath, it was clear that the air inside was stale; neither your door nor windows had been opened in the past twenty-four hours. There were no signs of life anywhere else in the small living area you called home - a thin layer of undisturbed dust coated the kitchen counter, something you would never allow to happen, nor was there a drop of water collected in the dishes tray. To any regular soul that made up the majority of society, it would be reasonable to assume that you weren’t home, and you hadn’t been home. Yet there was no doubt in Izana’s mind that you were here; his sensitive nose could pick up the traces of pheromones that still lingered on the surfaces you had touched. After all, an alpha would always be more attuned to both omegas and other alphas than regular humans would ever be.

Setting his black leather bag down lightly on the worn wooden floors, Izana made light work of stripping off his business suit; he did come straight from work after all, and being a yakuza boss could leave the stench of filthy blood and other people on his clothes. He rather not distract you with any other smell but his. Pulling off his silk scarf and thick woolen coat, those were neatly folded and left atop your spotless sofa before he got to loosening and removing his tie, slender fingers quickly working to unbutton both his vest and the soft white tuxedo shirt. With each minute that passed, the impatience only bubbled and grew in his gut, and it was getting harder and harder for the man to not fuck it all with this bothersome undressing and seek you out immediately, his eyes narrowing at nothing in particular as he quickly kicked off his prized handcrafted Italian leather shoes - there was nothing he could care more in the moment but you. You were waiting for him, in heat and in pain, and he needed you. Badly.

Just outside, separated by a thin wooden door: a quiet, typical suburban neighborhood, a usual silent weekday night; regular (betas, as Izana called them) families going about their usual evening routines, winding down for the day and preparing for the next. The last silver of sun that still peaked over the horizon threatened to disappear at any moment, the night and its cape of stars eager to begin its reign. A crackle of electricity, and the streetlamp that had stood faithfully next to your apartment block flickered on right on schedule, its strong yellow light filtering through your still curtains and casting a patterned shadow onto the floor. But behind the privacy of a locked door and drawn curtains, the feared mafia head could only sigh contently as he let his pajama shirt slip down over his head to cover his toned torso, loose, comfortable pants having been pulled over silk boxers. There was no stronger smell that one could bring to an omega’s heat than sleepwear that had been worn consistently for a week, and combined with the rest of the pieces of clothing that Izana had brought as offerings to line your nest with were equally well-worn and scented, there would be no mistaking who it was that came to woo you.

Bending slightly to pick his gym bag back up from the ground, a lustful hunger - an almost desperate need - sparked to life in those usually empty eyes; now, to hunt. 

Where were you hiding? 

There weren’t many places you could be in to begin with, not in this tiny apartment, and even fewer where you would be while in heat. Nests were usually tucked away in the dark corners of the house, as per the general preference of omegas when they went into heat: smell-proof, sound-proof pods provided by the government as part of a support program, though Izana knew from firsthand experience that there was at least enough space for two. Letting out a hum, the tanned man looked almost at home with the ease he ducked around corners and drummed the tips of his fingers against counters, making a beeline for the master bedroom; even if you had never once been invited him over to this new place of yours, it was clear he knew his way around like the back of his hand.

And pulling open an inconspicuous pair of door shutters, one of several that lined the far wall of your bedroom, the tinted glass window of your pod, tucked away in an unused wardrobe, gleamed back at him. A room within a room, a little cozy box that served as both your slice of heaven and your prison for the duration of your heat: Izana didn’t doubt that you were a lot safer from the dangers of the world inside than outside, your heavenly, addictive scent locked away from those who would do you harm. But right now, the man thought to himself, his pants already tenting as he eagerly reached for the handle of the entrance - right now there was no doubt you were still the safest with him. 

Like the creep of a fog along the forest floor, the sweet tantalizing aroma of your pheromones, combined with the freezing cold of air conditioning, came rolling out as the door was carefully pulled open, an invitation, a siren’s call to your former lover that tempted him into the dimly lit depths. The yakuza boss was only happy to take the bait, easing the black duffel bag through before him.  

‎

You were completely naked, plump flesh shiny with beaded perspiration that your hair stuck haphazardly to despite the temperature being several degrees lower than the already cool night outside, thick thighs splayed open as if to display your drooling private parts for him to feast his eyes upon. Your breasts were larger, heftier, than what they usually were, engorged by the sheer amount of hormones currently flooding your system, nipples already perked and at attention. Long, ugly scratches, now just barely scabbed over, framed your leaking pussy, where you must have raked your nails again and again in an attempt to relieve yourself from the lack of fulfillment, only to have both hands bound to protect yourself from you. Yet all Izana could focus on was you, his gaze unable to tear away as he drank in the tortured expression that pulled at your face, eyebrows furrowed, your lips contorted and twisted as you struggled in vain to find relief from the incessant arousal that was driving you to the brink of insanity.

“There you are, love.” Violet eyes, usually empty and cold, instantly lit up as they laid sight on you, the door swinging shut silently behind him.

Your head instantly lifted at his voice, a whine escaping your lips before you could stop yourself. It was certainly a reaction to the intense smell of his pheromones - an alpha's pheromones - hitting your nose. A promise of reprieve; a real mate who could satisfy your burning needs and quench the ache between your legs. But it seemed no matter whatever your empty womb was screaming at you, your mind was still the one in charge for now. And he was not who you had been expecting. “I-Izzy?” You looked completely confused at his sudden appearance. Your pupils were completely dilated, and Izana doubted if you could see anything more than a blob in your doorway, though your nose was certainly working. He was glad that you still remembered his scent. “You’re here?” 

Very carefully, Izana crouched to set his gym bag down gingerly, making no sudden or abrupt movement that could surprise you. An almost one-eighty role reversal from his stalking of you from earlier; the white-haired man was suddenly the prey caught in the headlights before your predatory, hungry eyes. The plush floor was soft yet cool against his bare feet as he slowly prodded his way nearer, conscious of the ensnared knots of sheets and what-not that brushed against his toes. “It’s me, baby girl.” He assured you, his tone gentle, warm and comforting, a far cry from the nonchalant, almost playful one that his victims know all too well. "You okay?"

You only grunted and whined in response, the entire pod shuddering under his feet as you struggled, though the handcuffs that kept your hands strung from the ceiling remained firm. 

His cute nickname had always been a misnomer for you when compared to him, Izana knew; as an omega, you were taller, larger and a hella lot stronger than he was. If he stretched it to its limits, the yakuza boss could argue that something as unassuming as 'baby girl' was at least kind of fitting for the regular you: a soft, kind-hearted soul that was so very aware and cautious of yourself. Yet at the peak of your heat with hormones flooding your system and your lust consuming your mind, you certainly weren't someone that the alpha wanted to tick off. More well-built than a beta male he was, but one wrong move and you would snap him in two between your thighs like a stick. 

“Y-you’re not supposed to be here.”

But you were his. You had always been his, and you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Raw strength was just one factor, and no doubt this yakuza boss had many other cards to play. This time, this time he would make sure to claim you once and for all, and make it stick.

Izana ignored your statement. “It’s alright, love. ‘M here now.” His voice was low, a guttural undertone, yet the tanned man still made no move to approach you, instead moving to pull the first of many clothing articles from the bag, bundling it up and tossing it like a ball at you, the cream woolen shirt landing softly on your chest. Taking a step back as you paused in your shifting to cautiously sniff at the new offering presented, it was the first time Izana pulled his gaze away from you, glancing around the pod in which you had built your nest and spent the last few days. 

Bundles of sheets and clothes carefully packed and tangled into a comfortable albeit makeshift mattress, Izana noted that the various shirts and sweaters you laid didn’t belong to you - he had never had any reports of you buying them, nor did they smell entirely like you despite you having drenched everything in your fluids. Combined with the fact that you had been left bound for an unknown period of time, his theory of there being another before him had been right. He was glad he acted on his hunch. If he had been wrong, it would have been just another mark to his already stained name. But now that he was provably right, at least that scum wasn’t something he nor you had to worry about.  Not now, not anymore. 

As you continued to squint suspiciously at his sweater, Izana retrieved another piece, this time a pair of shorts, and flung it to join his sweater on your chest, making sure to keep his gaze down and off of you: he knew you were particular about potential mates looking at you during your evaluation. He knew the cogs were turning in your mind as you struggled between rationality and your need to be filled, his strong, familiar scent as enticing to you as yours was to him. He knew you better than the back of his own hand. 

With your extremely heightened senses, the minimal dim yellow lighting within the pod, combined with the extremely tinted windows, were at just the right comfort level for you. Not that it mattered to his courting ritual - you relied almost completely on your sense of smell during this vulnerable period, and it was the overlapping scents of different pheromones that seemed to confuse you, the made man simply listening on as you alternated sniffing at his clothes and the air around your nest.

"Wh-where m-mate?" You stuttered out of the blue, your mind momentarily winning over the insatiable lust.

“Gone. He left, sweetheart.” 

‎

You whined, whimpered, the high-pitched whistle that escaped your lips - a similar yet different tune that you had used with him - meant to call for your mate to return to you. But there was no one to answer your call in the small, dark space. “Left?” You repeated in disbelief, your voice pitching up. “He left?”

The pod rattled as you attempted to break free from your cuffs, whistling again with more desperation, your chest heaving from the effort as your legs tried and failed to gain the traction you needed against the padded floor again and again, Izana’s offerings sliding off and into the dark abyss of the floor. “Left? Gone? Left?” Completely dilated eyes looked wildly in every direction, as if the nobody you had seduced and manipulated into being your fucktoy was hiding in a corner; your former lover was surprisingly content with watching you work yourself into a frenzy from a safe distance, violet eyes roaming over your body. He had no intention of getting caught up in your thrashing.

A beta male - that was who you picked to fuck you through your heat. A nobody from society’s majority that would have never been able to fulfill you, that would have never been able to get you pregnant, that you would have never been able to mark and bond with. A piece of trash that would have happily gone on his meaningless, worthless life, never earning the feared yakuza’s attention if he had simply stayed away from you. And now he’s left - not of his own accord, but you didn’t need to know that.

You must have been waiting for him all this time.

"He never loved you like I do, baby girl,” the man cooed, stripping his shirt off to reveal toned abs, taking a bold step forward, your eyes immediately swiveling back to fix on him, despairing doe eyes brimming with unshed tears. “That scum was just using you all this time."

The cold air whirled down quietly from the ceiling, a silent ballet that filled the background of your breathing as you tried to wrap your mind around what he was saying, your eyebrows furrowing and twitching as your struggles died down - it couldn’t be easy losing your other half while you were actively in heat, but it was a good sign that you hadn’t attacked him just yet. 

“He’s a little cheater as well.” Izana continued, pulling off his soft pajama pants before taking another step closer, now left in just his silky boxers. All his hair was standing on ends with the glacial temperatures in the pod, yet the tanned man bit down and suppressed as much of his shivering as he could. There was no need to give you any form of weakness to exploit. “Out playing with other mates while you’re suffering in here.” 

A lie, so what? The expression on your face turned confused, your lips flapping for several moments without sound before your voice emerged once more. “O-out? Others?” It was clear that you were completely bewildered by the changing situation and Izana’s lies, your brain cocked up on hormones and your mind melting from lust, unable to think straight or tell facts from falsehoods. All to Izana’s favor, of course.

“Mmmm. He’s never home to look after you.”

“He-he was-”

The delinquent cut you off. “No, he never was. He never bothered to spend any time with you, I know. Hated you, hated being with you. Leaving you alone to go party and drink the night away.”

Your eyes showed the conflicting thoughts raging away behind; you were doubting yourself. Doubting your memories, doubting the subhuman you picked. “He wasn’t?”

“No. He even laid hands on you, remember? Beat you so bad the police were involved.” His low, smooth voice whispered back, soothing and confident. Just a little more - all Izana needed was a little more to tip you over to his side, to believe the little lies he told you. You weren’t going to remember much after the high of your heat anyway, only that you two were bound and marked for life. “But I’m here. I’m here to look after you, baby girl. I’ve always been here for you.”

He wanted you he wanted you he wanted you so bad-

‎

Now just within arm’s reach of you, Izana teasingly snapped the elastic waistband of his boxers, and like butterflies to syrup, those wondrous, beautiful blown eyes of yours snapped downwards. And under your judging gaze, the tanned man slowly pulled down the last remaining article of clothing he had on him, revealing his bare body to you. Straightening up revealed the thick, heavy cock that hung between his legs, erect and straining. Individual strands of white hair that decorated his pubic area shimmered even in the dim light, a well-groomed frame that only helped to enhance the desirability of his cock. Izana couldn’t help but puff up at the catch of your breath, thrusting his hip slightly higher for you to get a better look. He knew what your body lusted for, what your heart was screaming and begging for; only he could fulfill you. Only he loved you.

He could all but feel your warm walls surrounding him, squeezing and clenching down around his length - a recurring dream that he had lived through night after night. His version of heaven that he had lived through once, and yearned to live in forever. But not yet. 

Carefully adding his newest offering of his recently worn pajamas, as well as his underwear, atop your breasts and as close to your face as possible, his tanned hand was just inches shy of brushing against your bare hot skin. If you accepted something so intimate from him, it would be time for the next stage. “It’s me, baby girl. Izzy. You remember me, don’t you?”

‎‎

Like a wave washing over you, the look behind your eyes changed; a certain ferocity roaring to life, overpowering and consuming the almost timid personality the real you had been hiding behind. You had walked straight into his trap. He had been accepted. Yet with your hands still bound above your head, there was little you could do. "Izzy, it- it hurts so bad." You whimpered, wriggling, shifting around in your nest of clothes. Trying to hump yourself against your nest did little to ease your suffering. You needed a dick inside you to soothe the ache and pain. You needed him. "Untie. P-please."

"You know I'll do anything for you, love. But you'll have to do something for me first, okay?"

Coercing. Mate-stealing. Highly illegal crimes that came with hefty punishments for him to be here, courting an omega in the midst of their heat who had already picked their mate. But those stuffy government folks could just add it to his list if they ever grew the balls to come after such a notorious figure as him.

“He didn’t fulfill you, did he, baby girl? He doesn’t know you like I do.” You were hot, burning hot as Izana pressed himself up against you between your legs, his hard dick rubbing firmly against the apex of your legs, your skin radiating heat that warmed his own to its core. The friction against your sensitive clit was a tantalizing glimpse - a promise - of what was to come. “I will, but I want you to mark me first.”

“Mark?” You frowned. “No mark.”

“Mark first.” Izana insisted, leaning forward and tiptoeing to press a chaste kiss to your lips, one hand caressing your cheek even as the other dipped down to play with the rim of your anus. He was lucky to be as tall as he is - even with you seated, the man could barely reach your face while he was humping your pussy. “No mark, no sex.” He whispered into your ear as he kissed a trail down your face and neck.

The normal you would have never agreed. You weren’t interested in marking anyone just yet, and you weren’t ready to mark him, but he wasn’t having it. There was no life, no world without his sun to orbit around, to give his life purpose and meaning, and he needed to make sure that you would only be his. Bound to him forever. He couldn’t live without you. 

Your expression turned ugly in the blink of an eye, and the hiss that seeped from between bared teeth was hair-raising as Izana attempted to nibble down on the marking glands at the crook of your neck. The yakuza boss immediately reeled, pulling away just in time to avoid the swing of your leg, narrowed eyes following the daring alpha as he backed off with both his hands raised in surrender. 

But in the blink of an eye, the anger was gone, evaporated into the blistering cold of the pod, the lust washing over your expression once more. "P-please." You whined, and the tanned man carefully slithered back up to you, eager for the warmth of your embrace - he had made the mistake of rushing the courting process. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

“Dump him. Take me back.” Exposing the crook of his own neck, the harsh grinding of his dick against you only getting firmer as his pheromones filled the air. “Just one mark, and I’ll be all yours. Fuck as long as you want.” He promised. 

‎

You finally caved, a growl gurgling forth from the base of your throat as you lurched forward, biting down and sinking your teeth into the corner of his neck. Izana whimpered, body shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline that swept through him, violet eyes rolling into the back of his head as you drew blood from his marking glands. You were his. You had marked him, and you were his. Now and forever. 

With a smooth stroke, Izana plunged his entire length into you, the skin of his hip meeting yours in a violet slap. You reeled, releasing him from your teeth, throwing your head back as your toes curled as the other began to pump, long strokes that had him pull himself as far out as he could go before slamming himself back in. Your drooling pussy was more than lubricated enough to take his fat cock without any further preparations, warm walls that clamped down hard around him, milking him for all he was worth. Your body was demanding, a cruel mistress that wanted more and more, and Izana would happily give you anything and everything you wanted. He was all yours.

Brushing your hair aside, he licked your glands several times, enjoying the entire strength of your pheromones and the mild tingling it gave his tongue before chomping down on the crook of your neck - your blood really was as sweet as you. And that was all it took for him to step over the edge of pleasure, and his thrusting became erratic as he came in you, hot cum spurting as deep into you as Izana could go. 

Slumping slightly to take a breath, it was with one trembling hand that the yakuza boss reached out to keep his promise to free you. All it took was a single press of a button on the side of your pod, and the real monster you had temporarily buried emerged the moment your hands were finally freed. You wasted no time in wrapping both around the tanned man’s comparatively tiny waist, strong, muscular arms bodily lifting him into the air with ease. “You better not already be soft,” you snarled, as you lined the tip of his still hard cock up with your still lustful pussy, forcibly pushing him into you once more and setting a brutal pace as you manhandled him as if he weighed nothing more than a doll. As if his dick was no different from a large, warm dildo that occasionally filled you up. “Keep going. More. More.”

White hair flew back and forth at such a speed that it seemed even they had forgotten how to move as you wrangled Izana into going at your pace. One thick digit you had pressed into his anus and firmly kept against his prostate, an attempt to keep the cock that you were thrusting furiously against yourself hard for as long as possible as you licked and salivated over both crooks of his neck before pressing your lips against his in a bruising kiss. “Mine,” you growled, as Izana came again inside you, his body twitching and jerking in your grasp, pressed firmly between your thick thighs. His tongue was loose and heavy, impossible to move into forming any words except grunts and groans, his eyes rolled up in constant pleasure. But there was no rest for the wicked, the white-haired yakuza boss simply made to ride out his orgasm as you started to bounce him once more. You knew he could take it. 

There was no telling how long this session was going to last, but one thing that was clear here and now was that he was entirely yours. 

Outside, the night starry sky had long dominated the sky, yet Kakucho still sat right outside your front door, hand loosely wrapped around the handle of the gun hidden beneath his coat. Even if he had been given strict orders to stop anyone who tried to access your unit, the black-haired man doubted that there would be any trouble - you were an unstoppable force of nature yourself from the short period of time he knew you, and no one would be giving you trouble you didn’t actively get yourself into. He could only hope that his white-haired best friend was still alive and well. Still, the precaution was probably warranted given the smell of you in heat could attract unmarked alphas in the area, not that Kakucho would know what that smelled like.

Taking another chug of soda, his sole working gray eye wandered up from the quiet, uneventful neighborhood to stare at the bright moon beaming down at him. It was probably going to be a long night.