#Sub sanzu

[keisukebajimipatron]

Sanzu Manga

🚨 SPOILER ALERT❗ okay now let's do this

Why i think Sanzu has a good heart and isn't just some crazy drug addict Mikey's dog. Part2

▫️Takeomi always scolded Sanzu for what Senju did and he received the punishments because he was a "good boy".

▪️And then this happens on a time line.

▫️And in another timeline this happens.

▫️And then THIS happened too.

▫️BUT ✋THIS 👇also happened.

So it seems to me that every damn timeline ends up putting sanzu in a not-so-pretty place, he always ends up scarred by something, one way or another he ended up losing his mind.

And while he probably has some kind of mental problem no matter what, in theory, no one is born bad so.....yeah.

But hey, every story has a crazy person and I guess it has to be him (although this story has more than one 👀).

[mochiswifey]

CHLORINE

HARUCHIYO BONTEN

'For You To Stay Series`

Haruchiyo found something more addicting.

"WHERE'S MY FUCKING PUDDING! I ORDERED PUDDING TWO FUCKING MINUTES AGO! WHERE'S MY PUDDING?! AND DROWN IT ON FUCKING DIRTY MARTINI!" The girls Kokonoi brought in got scared and moved away from Haruchiyo. Kokonoi tried to calm them down but he realized it would only get worse and told the girls to go wait for him in another room.

“Yo, addict. Stop it she’s not coming back.” Kokonoi snatched the bottle of pills from Haruchiyo earning him a glare from the mad dog.

“I’m gonna kill you….” With blurred vision and an exhausted body, Haruchiyo tried to snatch back the bottle but the alcohol mixed with a few dozen of pills are taking their effects. Even his almost immune body couldn’t take the poison anymore.

Kokonoi shook his head too fed up. Koko stood up from the couch taking all of the remaining pills on the table making sure Haru won't get more that he'll might actually kill himself. After making sure there are no pills he left the dog.

Haruchiyo screamed, kicked, and swore to the aliens that he'd kill Kokonoi. His eyes were closed but he still tried his best to reach for the drugs on the table he didn't realize Kokonoi took on his way out with him.

After searching for a few minutes and finding absolutely nothing he laid down on the couch and he began sucking the Ringpop on his ring finger.

Everybody knows that he could withstand high doses of drugs but he’s been taking it much more since you disappeared from his sight.

"Y-You told me... I'm beautiful." He blurts out before his lids fully closed.

Haruchiyo never loved anyone more than Manjiro. His king was always whom he prioritized. And he hates you for changing the way his mind was wired.

“Who the fuck is that crazy bitch?”

Was his first question to Kakucho after seeing you dominate one of the strongest fighter in the ring of the illegal fight clubs.

Blood was dripping from the side of your lips and the way you licked it and smiled so menacingly caught his unswayed attention.

“Damn, girl. Lemme get some of your one-two one-two uppercut combo in the bedroom.”

He said as he suddenly appeared out of nowhere. (Haruchiyo paid a good amount of money to know where you were heading after the fight.)

You raised your eyebrow and looked at him. You were sitting alone in the bar enjoying your dirty martini and now you need to deal with a surprisingly deranged-looking man.

“What do you want?”

“I just-“

“Let’s cut the bullshit. You do drugs? I do drugs. Let’s do drugs while we fuck and we’ll be friends.”

“That was quick.” He was surprised. Traditional Japanese girls wouldn’t go out with him because of the visible scars on his lips.

Well- many girls would if he pays them which he does most of the time. That’s why he was surprised that you weren’t- that…

He was used to having women who are straight to business.

He approach them. They look at his mouth. They show fear and disgust. But then they look at his suit and watch. And the tattoo on his arm. After that they say their price.

But you?

You look at his face.

You smiled.

You tell your conditions, took his hand, and lead him to your apartment.

“You live here?” He asked as he took off his shoes.

“Yeah. Sorry, it’s small.” You tell him as you open the drawers containing all sorts of drugs you got from dealers all over Japan.

Haru is a very judgemental person. He criticizes every little thing. But your apartment felt like home to him which was crazy for him at the time. He thought that the bed pushed to the wall right down the window looked perfect. The sunlight gets in easily. The cute brown bamboo drawer which you were taking stuff from beside your bed looks cute too. He was surprised that he wasn't judging.

“What are you into? I got all kinds of stuff.”

“What do you recommend?” He says as he sat down on your carpet pulling the portable table under your bed.

“Wanna see aliens?” A dumb smile appeared on your face as you took out a ziplock bag filled with hallucinogens and waved them to Haru.

“Baby, I wanna see Jesus.”

“You got it. We’re gonna see Jesus and aliens”

That night your neighbors wondered why you were singing Hallelujah and I'm blue dabideedabidaa at 3 am in the morning.

“Gosh. My asshole hurts.” Haru yawned.

“Still here?” You kicked his ass away from you. The two of you were so busted out of your asses none of you realized it was already 2pm.

Haru reached for his phone and was immediately taken aback realizing he had missed 4 calls from Manjiro.

“Fuck babe. Gotta go to work gonna come home later.”

“Home later? Boy you paying rent?”

“Funny.”

He did what he said. He came back home. Home to you. And as much as you hated it and tried to lock him outside he always finds a way in.

The first time you pretended not to be home he went inside from the window.

The second time- well. The second time he just payed your landlord to give him a spare key.

He was so consistent and so- so-

You know who he is. You know what he is. You’ve heard rumors. And you know that every single rumors are true.

But?

His eyes. They show nothing but love for you. The way he pulls you close every night.

You know he loves you.

And as much as you tried to prevent yourself. You fell in love with him.

And he fell in love with you the day he met you.

“I don’t need drugs to see stars. I see them when I look into your eyes.”

“Haru, you high?” You chuckled before placing a kiss on his forehead. Snuggling with him every night whether it’s 11pm or 4am just feels perfect.

“No. It’s been a while since I met you- and I don’t have the need to take drugs.” He says and your body flinches.

“D-do do you still take them?” He asked you.

“Of course.”

“Stop it then.” He tells you.

“Haru-“

“Why do you do it?”

“What do you mean?” You and he sat up.

“Why do you still take drugs? Why were you taking them in the first place?” Haruchiyo raised his voice but it wasn’t the manic voice you were expecting. It was out of concern.

At first, he forgot to take them. And he swore he’ll take them the next day. But he forgot again because he was so busy watching you sleep. He had one ready in his pocket but you were eating pudding and told him to put his slacks on the watching machine so he forgot again.

He forgot, forgot until he realized you’re the only drug he needed.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You threw the question back at him.

Haruchiyo stood up and took a deep breath before facing to look at you once more. You knew he loves you and he knew you love him. Neither of you said the words but the actions were much louder.

“Because I couldn’t bear to live. Now, all I want is to live. To live with you. To live as happy as we can be in our world.” He kneels down and took your hand placing kisses on it.

“Please. Please stop. I don’t want-“ You pulled your hand away and pointed at the door.

“Just for the night.”

“N-no. No! You won’t-“

“Haru. I won’t leave you. I’ll stay here.” You smiled at him.

“Come back here tomorrow and we’ll do anything that you want. I won’t do drugs anymore.” You tell him and his eyes widen.

“Really?”

“Really.” He took a deep breath before nodding.

“Marry me then. That’s what I want.”

“Ring?” You joked as you wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

“Ruby, Diamond, Sapphire?” Haruchiyo asked eagerly his eyes lighting up.

“Ringpop.” The two of you laughed before sharing a kiss. He kissed you so deeply you thought he’ll inhale you. You stopped him before everything turns into something else.

“Hey, tomorrow we’ll be husband and wife right?” He asked you before stepping out of your tiny apartment he had asked you to move out of many times. You sniffed before nodding. It assured Haru and he went on his merry way to plan a wedding you would’ve never forgotten.

If you went through it.

He hates sleeping now. He sees your body lying limp on the bed you two shared for such a long time. Bubbles on your mouth. Unresponsive.

He only read your letter once but he remembers every single word.

To my beautiful boy.

I have never said this in person because I was scared on how you would react. But I know that you love me. And I love you too.

I want you to know that I found someone I truly love for the first time in my miserable life. I love you Haru. I love the way you look at me.I love the way your thick eyelashes curls so perfectly up whenever I do your makeup. Lol. I love when you make me dirty martinis, and I know you get grossed out but I love the face you make when I mix it with pudding.

I love you more than myself.

And I won't ask for your forgiveness because what I did is unforgivable.

It's not your fault. I want you to know it's not.

This was my decision.

And I did it because I know I'll ruin the beauty of our love. Because that's what I do. I ruin everything.

I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared and I want to be in your arms. I want to see your eyes. The eyes that only have love for me.

I don't wanna die Haru. I don't want to leave you.

But I can't ruin you. I've always ruined everything that I touch.

And I don't want to ruin my beautiful boy.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Thank you for reading.

Plagiarism is a crime.

[okeutocalma]

Sanzu Haruchiyo[Male reader].

Avisos!

Penetração dupla,leitor tem dois paus, invocação de Incubos[demônio sexual].

A mente de Sanzu estava nebulosa, nublada pelos múltiplos orgasmos que aquele demônio já havia arrancado de dele esta noite.

 Ele concordou com isso, a curiosidade e desejo acalorado o traiu quando descobriu que existia um tal demônio sexual, primeiramente achou que era besteira mas quando terminou o maldito ritual e aquele ser apareceu, tudo fez sentido.

Quando ele viu que esse demônio não tinha um mas dois pênis grossos,Sanzu tremeu, para fazer sexo usando os dois exigia preparação. 

Especialmente considerando que ele nunca tinha levado nada daquela grossura na bunda e estranhamente o demônio tinha medo de machucá-lo.

[Nome] gemeu baixinho contra a coxa do rosado, mordendo-a levemente e fazendo ele choramingar. 

O ânus lambuzado dele pulsava com necessidade quando [Nome] se ergueu para pairar sobre ele, as pernas trêmulas descansando nas coxas, as mãos do demônio segurando os joelhos dele para puxá-lo para mais perto. O calor de ambos os pênis pressionando contra o Haruchiyo . 

— Não vai doer. — [Nome] murmurou suavemente contra seus lábios, as mãos movendo para os quadris do rosado,para pressionar seus pau contra o pequeno buraquinho de Sanzu.

 Ele choramingou, tanto de ansiedade quanto de antecipação, as mãos se contorcendo nos lençóis enquanto você empurrava lentamente um pau depois o outro.

O alongamento foi inacreditável, ele chorou enquanto o corpo se moldava para aceitá-lo por inteiro. 

A sensação de sua bunda se abrindo para aceitar os dois paus, provavelmente arrebentando as pregas, enviando ondas de prazer e dor. 

Ele gritou quando finalmente os pênis do de fios [claros/escuros] chegou até o talo,chegando até o fundo, e [Nome] gemeu, pressionando beijos na têmpora de Sanzu enquanto murmurava elogios ao Haruchiyo choroso, sentindo o corpo tremer ao redor de seus paus.

— Mentiroso! — Ele engasgou com um gemido quando sentiu o corpo estremecer quando [Nome] começou a se mover. O Íncubo devolveu as palavras com uma risada, inclinando-se para trás para admirar a visão do cuzinho tomando tudo de si, engolindo seus pênis com certo esforço.

— E ainda, tão facilmente seu corpo se abre para mim querido Sanzu, quem diria que seu fetiche seria ser arrombado por dois paus grossos. — O demônio elogia, a mão acariciando as coxas fartas enquanto se move lentamente.

Palavras sem sentido saiam da boca do rosado,seu corpo suado e ele respirou fundo, [Nome] estava observando o corpo do humano se contorcer e arquear, o ritmo indo lentamente devagar a rápido enquanto sentia o interior do demônio o apertar com força.

O de fios [claros/escuros] geme, levantando as pernas dele mais alto, fazendo ele gritar ao senti-lo ir mais fundo. 

— [NOME]. — Sanzu Haruchiyo gritou, sentindo-o você acertar a próstata dele com força, a sensação daqueles paus o arregaçando de maneira profunda estava sendo boa.

 Acariciando as partes mais sensíveis do seu interior. Fodendo as entranhas do rosado com força.

 Descrença tomou conta do rosto dele ao ver  uma protuberância enorme no estômago dele a cada estocada bruta.

Ele gemeu, movendo a mão para o estômago, sentindo a pressão dos seus pênis tocando a palma da mão através da sua própria pele.

 — [Nome]... Tão profundo~

[Nome] gemeu com as palavras de Sanzu, sentindo as paredes vibrarem ao redor dele, estimulando-o a se mover mais rápido. 

Os gemidos saíram dos lábios ressecados de Sanzu enquanto você continuava a entrar mais e mais rápido dentro dele para levá-lo ao limite mais uma vez esta noite, para alcançar seu próprio fim e finalmente preenchê-lo.

— Tão bom~ — O elogio saiu de sua boca naturalmente enquanto o demônio observava o corpo dele tremer de prazer em atenção extasiada. 

A maneira como os lábios dele se abrem para ofegar e gemer, os ombros se contorcendo, as costas se arqueando e sua mão acariciando o estômago protuberante e sentindo o jeito que os paus dele se movem dentro de você. 

— Você virá para mim, meu amor? Venha para mim para que eu possa sentir seu prazer por mim mesmo.

Sanzu choramingou quando as palavras desencadearam algo nele, o corpo estalando rígido enquanto o clímax tomava conta do rosado como se fosse um comando. 

O demônio gemeu, os quadris travando enquanto as entranhas dele ondulavam ao seu redor…

[Nome] soltou um suspiro trêmulo, observando enquanto ele relaxar lentamente em seu abraço.

 A visão de seu sêmen escorrendo para fora dele ao redor de seus pênis ainda enfiados até o talo.

 Ele queria sentir mais de você. Ele queria atrair o seu prazer novamente e sentir você gozando ao dentro dele de novo e de novo.

[axxa-the-allikatt]

This for you @germanpansexual. Thanks for the ask sweetheart 🥹. Hope you like it!

***

Imagine,

Bonten Sanzu, who’s finally settled in life, at least according to his life purpose, gaining the official title as Bonten’s, Mikey’s, Mad Dog.

Bonten Sanzu, who has lived off drugs for the past few years, and is well acquainted with the feeling of happiness that lasts in his foggy mind for a few hours until his next dose, but has long forgotten the genuine feeling.

Bonten Sanzu, who, true to his name, wrecks up every party he attends. Not that anyone minds, considering the kind of parties he attends.

Bonten Sanzu, who laid his eyes upon you for the first time, at one such party.

Bonten Sanzu, who’s attention was not converged towards you due to your tall, stunning build, but to the way you actively flirted around, looking like you were genuinely enjoying yourself, unlike majority of the people who attended these parties.

Bonten Sanzu, who was sure he’d forget about you the second he took his drugs, but even later, his hazy eyes still looked for you in the crowd, his drugged instincts not really knowing why.

Bonten Sanzu, whose mind relaxes into a hazy drift, as he finally finds you, knocking up some pretty looking boys, who looked like they believed they existed for you.

Bonten Sanzu, whose eyes follow you for minutes on end as you float around, catching eyes everywhere you go, but this unwanted attention didn’t seem to bother you.

Bonten Sanzu, who’s mind snaps clear, as he sees a woman seductively place her hands against your chest, as you chuckle and walk her towards the door, and he realises all too clearly that if he let you out of his sight now, he would almost surely not see you again.

Bonten Sanzu, who rushes out of his VIP seat, startling the Haitani brothers, who were busy preening over the several women draped over them.

Bonten Sanzu, who grabs the back of your shirt, dragging you away from the arms of that filthy woman, before crashing his lips on yours.

Bonten Sanzu, who doesn’t understand how he ended up in the current situation, his back pressed against the alleyway, legs wrapped around your torso, feeling the cool breeze flow against his almost naked body, but he doesn’t have time to think about those things, because whatever you were doing to him right now, had him feeling higher that any drug he had ever taken. Or was it just his pills talking?

Bonten Sanzu, who’s hands busied themselves by digging into your shoulders and pulling at your hair, as you’re barely three fingers in, whispering into his neck about how he’s such a good doll, so fucking pretty for you.

Bonten Sanzu, who finally manages to slip out some words, even though there were only broken prayers to gods he didn’t believe existed.

Bonten Sanzu, who never asked you your name, so he decides to scream out the closest thing he can connect you to- god -as he convulses against your body, his dripping hole clenching around you, as his cum splatters all over his chest.

Bonten Sanzu, who begs you to get inside him, to fuck him so good he doesn’t remember who his is, which, considering the state you had already put him in, really wouldn’t take long.

Bonten Sanzu, who wails out phrases of gratitude, as you thrust yourself deep into him, the hand that wasn’t holding him up playing with his hard, puffy nipples, mouth leaving blooming marks against his soft skin.

Bonten Sanzu, who cums for the second time that night, and soon after, has a dry orgasm, due the force with you release your seed deep inside him.

Bonten Sanzu, who passes out not a minute later, his drugs and your magic catching up on his clouded mind.

Bonten Sanzu, who wakes up the next morning, in a fancy hotel, and feels a pang of loss as he realises you had disappeared.

Bonten Sanzu, who doubles over, with his hands covering his bright red face,as he finds the little note you left for him, telling him that you might or might not have plans at the *** hotel tonight, then realises that he was looking forward to it. He was looking forward to getting fucked senseless by a guy. He was fucking gay.

***

(A little extra)

Sanzu is horrified that if the Haitanis ever found out about this, he would hear no end of it. But the Haitanis would rather not talk about the fact that Sanzu Harchiyo has been smiling, like actually smiling, since the morning, and that it probably meant the world was coming to an end.

***

I hope it’s not too rushed hun <3.

Part two is up, please check it out<3

[fushiguroslvtz]

Bonten thirsts

Characters: Koko, Rindou, Sanzu, Ran

I strongly believe that Koko is a switch. He loves spoiling you in every way possible, but also will melt if you call him a nasty slut and choke him.

“Baby, I’m home” he yelled after walking into your shared home. He made is way through the large house, until he found himself at the bedroom door. He enters the quiet room to see you sitting perched on the bed, wearing his favorite lingerie. “Did you think it was okay to send me those pictures while I was at work?” you questioned. Koko has flashbacks to the rather suggestive photos he had sent you earlier in the day when he was feeling needy. “You’re such a slut, Hajime, anyone could have seen those lewd pictures, but then again, you’d probably like that.” you said in a taunt. He stuttered out a gibberish response, trying not to pay to much attention to the throb of his cock at your mean words. You noticed this and grabbed at his belt loops to pull him in. The tent in his slacks was painfully noticeable, but he didn’t want to admit that he was so turned on by your taunting and teasing. You pushed him down onto the bed a straddled his lap. “Wasn’t very nice of you to leave me home alone, all hot and bothered, now was it Haji?” you questioned while slowly rocking your hips against his painfully hard cock. He let out a moan and before he could get a full answer out, you reached for his throat and began to squeeze. Small diamond-like tears formed in his eyes as he pleaded for relief, but you simply denied. “Nasty sluts don’t get rewarded.” That’s all you had to say to make him cum in his pants.

Rindou likes to talk a lot of shit, but the way his hips stutter when he enters your cunt always say how he really feels.

“Hey love, how was your day?” you call out to your boyfriend as he enters your home. He mumbles out a response and storms off to his office. You followed behind him but upon entering, he scoffs and glares at you, “Clearly I’m in a bad mood, so kindly, fuck off.” he barked out. You backed out of the room giving him his desired space, you decided to hop in the shower to distract your mind from his dicky behavior. As the warm water flooded your back and the steam clouded your senses, you began to feel needy. The sound of the door opening brought you out of you thoughts and soon after, you felt the arms of your boyfriend lace over your shoulders. “I’m sorry for be’in an ass earlier, work was really shitty today. I love you, I’m sorry.” he sounded sincere. “I’ll forgive you this once.” you said in a playful tone, knowing that you would forgive him regardless. His hands roamed further down until his hands met with your breasts. “Need you.” he said breathlessly as he began to kiss and nip at your neck. He pushed you onto the tile wall and gave you a questioning look, seeing if it was okay to proceed you replied back with an affirmation, and he rammed his stiff cock into your plushy walls. “Fuck pretty girl, s’tight ~ngh” he moaned out as he rolled his hips. He kissed your neck and gave a slight tug to your hair which caused a moan to bubble from your chest. He continued to pound into you at a ruthless pace until he felt his cock begin to twitch. “Fuck baby, I won’t last much longer.” he stuttered out. He brought his hand to your clit and began to circle it perfectly. “m’gonna cum, Rin.” you barley managed to say in between moans. “Go ahead baby, let go.” and with that you came, hard. You felt his cock twitch one last time before you felt him paint your inside with his cum. “Ah, fuck baby.” he groaned as he came, abs flexing and hips stuttering. As he is coming down from his high, he whispers something in your ear. “Please don’t leave me.” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sanzu is like reallyyyy into aphrodisiacs.

Sanzu Called you at 2:00am, which is something that you’ve become used to as your relationship with him progressed. You weren’t quite dating, but you were also more than a fuck buddy. It was complicated. You arrived at Sanzu’s penthouse, only to be greeted by the pink-haired-man eagerly opening the door. The moment you stepped into the house, he was on you. He pushed you up against the door and kissed you hungrily. After a few minutes you questioned him about why he was so horny. “I took these pills that make you really horny, and I’m kind of dying.” God dammit. You were less than content with that answer, worrying about his safety and well being, but you were also worried about your stamina. “This is going to be a long night” you thought to yourself. Haru sat there, eyeing your form. Considering that it was two in the fucking morning, and you came here for sex, you weren’t wearing much clothing, opting for a low cut tank top and a pair of stretchy shorts that hugged your body perfectly. The sight of you alone could have him falling apart. You gaze down at his erection, it looked so painful, and after weighing the pros and cons of this situation, you sink down to your knees and undo his belt. “Please Angel..need you s’bad.” He chocked out. You pull out his cock and begin to experimentally lick the tip. “Fuckfuckfuck yeah baby…jus’ like that-ahh” his hand finds purchase in your hair as you begin to take his length down your throat, he practically screamed when your throat tightened around him. “Baby, I can’t hold out anymore, m’gonna cum.” He whined. He was so perceptive to all of your movements, you actually enjoyed this. With a few more bobs of your head, he came down your throat with a loud cry. “M’so sensitive baby, m’sorry.” Of course you didn’t mind, it was really hot seeing him break in front of you.

Ran reallyyyyyy likes when you call him daddy.

Ran Haitani is a tired man. He works long hours all of the time, has nightmares that prevent him from peaceful slumber, and to top it all off you have a newborn son together. Ran steps into the role of fatherhood surprisingly well. He does his best to let you rest while he does his best to care for your baby. You honestly are great full to have him. He loves your sweet little family, and he stays composed and hardly lets the stress of his life get to him. He usually remains calm and laid back. Usually. He finds his facade crumbling at one sentence leaving your plump lips. “You look tired daddy, let’s go up to bed so we can have some alone time.” That fucking name. “What did you say, doll?” He needed to hear that again, he needed to make sure he heard you right. “I said we should go up to bed?” You gave him a questioning look, confused as to why he suddenly seemed riled up. “Not that baby, you know what I mean.” You realized what he was referring to. You honestly didn’t mean anything by it, you had just become used to referring to him as “daddy” around your son, and it happened to just slip out. “Say it again.” What did you get yourself into. You utter the name again, and suddenly his lips are on yours. He lifts you off of the couch, and carries you into your shared room. “Sit still and look pretty for daddy.” He utters out, as you make your way onto the bed. He removes his cloths, the only article of clothing that remains on his chiseled body is a pair of black boxers. Before you know it, you’re stripped down completely, caged underneath his large frame. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up till your nice and full tonight, princess. Is that okay with you?” All you could manage to do was moan back a response. He moved his fingers down until they found purchase on your clit. You were already soaked. “My princess is all nice and wet for me. Such a good girl.” You allowed beautiful moans and wines to leave your throat, which only encouraged him to continue. He stuck two fingers into your tight cunt and began to scissor them in and out to prep you for something bigger. “Daddy, I’m close.” You moaned out, causing him to flip you over and sheath his cock fully inside of you with a single thrust. “Ahhh, fuck” you wined out, the pain slowly disguising itself as pleasure. “Still so f-fuckin’ tight baby” he set a quick and ruthless pace. “Da-daddy, I’m s..so…fu-fuckin-ahh” before you could finish your sentence you came all over his cock. “Look at my messy -ah fuck- girl” he could’ve came then with the vice-grip your pussy had on his cock. “I’m gonna get you nice and full of my cum, maybe get you pregnant again” the coil in your core began to tighten again, you were close. “Please daddy, I want your cum” “don’t worry baby, I’ll give you every last drop” with that, Ran came deep into your cunt, painting your walls pearly white, causing you to reach your second high. He collapsed on top of you. You tried to get up so you could clean yourself, and him, up, but his strong arms held you close. “I wanna stay like this for a bit longer, please baby?” How could you say no when he looked that angelic. Just like that, you fell asleep in each others arms, with his softening cock still inside of you.

[seleneprince]

Has anyone noticed that Sanzu sounds very similar to Senju?

It might be my delusional ass, but I find it curious that out of all fake names he could've come up with, he made up one that sounds like his sister's but with displaced letters.

Sanzu. Senju. Sometimes I'm writing their names and the bar automatically translates them to the other, or it pops out the "Don't you mean Akashi Sanzu/Senju?"

They're close enough for Google to get confused.

If it was accidental, it's kinda bittersweet because it means that, even when he was trying to cut off ties with his family and leave them behind, his conscience still brought up Senju in someway and he kept it. And if it was on purpose, then it only makes it more beautifully tragic, because even when he left his family, he still decided to carry a piece of it in his new identity. The one he forged and stuck to for the rest of his life (excluding the final timeline ofc).

This hits deeper if you remember that Senju’s fake surname, Kawaragi, sounds like “Sai no Kawara”, riverbed of death, which is the shore of the Sanzu river. She's literally "right besides Sanzu".

[rindousgoddess]

hate sex with sanzu and it's you degrading him while you're going ham on his dick. laughing while you're telling him that his gang members probably take turns fucking his pretty pink hole while he just says "shut up! shut up!" deflecting every word you say. telling you that he's not, in fact, bonten's little sex slave :( ♡

[suzukis-posts]

𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗿𝘂𝗴

𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗭𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗬𝗢

Sanzu Haruchiyo x fem!Reader

𝗔𝗗𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗜𝗔: Uso de armas, estafa, menciones y uso de drogas, NSFW en general.

────────────────────────────

Por supuesto lo que él quería era tenerte a ti.

── Dame un espectáculo. ── Sanzu sonríe mientras está sentando en la cama, con sus manos juntas.

Luego de salir del club, se dirigió a un hotel cercano, contigo por supuesto.

Con el rostro enrojecido lentamente, tiras de sus talones rápidamente y corre a un lado causando que el hombre frunza el ceño.

── Más despacio cariño. Tenemos todo el tiempo del mundo. ── El sonríe mientras que tu irritación solo crecía.

Suspirando, lanzas una respiración profunda para calmar tu mente antes de deslizar suavemente he íntimamente las correas de tu vestido.

── Eso está mejor, buena chica. ── Él alaba a medida que se ruboriza. Tratas de ignorar sus ojos atentamente obsevando cada uno de tus movimientos mientras lentamente quitas el vestido, dejándote solo en ropa interior.

── Buena elección de ropa interior ── Sanzu admira tus curvas con ojos lujuriosos, comenzandote a sentir intimidada por ellos.

── Quítate todo. ── Asomo su rostro cerca de tu oído para solo hablar en una voz un poco baja.

Mueves tus manos detrás de tu espalda para desatar el sostén, pero luego de repente te sientes incomoda y avergonzado sabiendo que tu serías la única desnuda ya que Sanzu todavía estaba completamente vestido.

Sin tener en cuenta ese pensamiento, dejas caer el sostén en el piso, exponiendo los pechos ── Diablos, eres perfecta cariño. ── Sanzu jura bajo su aliento con sus piernas ligeramente extendidas.

Ahora, te paraste frente a él completamente desnuda mientras sostenías tu brazo.

── Bien, bien. ── Sanzu sonríe perezosamente antes de meter su mano en el bolsillo y sacar algunas pastillas.

Frunces tus cejas con ligera irritación ── ¿Qué son esos? ── Él rápidamente traga uno antes de dartelo a tí.

── Aliviará la tensión. Y te hace sentir diez veces mejor cuando tengamos sexo. ── Sonríe antes de que quites tu mano.

── No lo quiero. ── dices con firmeza mientras él frunce el ceño. ── Entonces supongo qué Senju no-

── ¡D-de acuerdo, está b-bien! ── Tu voz se entre corta, accedes de acuerdo a su petición de ingerir la pastilla.

── Estúpido... ── Lo maldices mentalmente, por usar a Senju como una amenaza.

── Siéntate en mi regazo. ── Sonríe mientras caminas y te posas sobre sus piernas, la sensación de tus muslos en sus piernas lo exito. Coloca una píldora en su lengua antes de besarte de repente, sorprendiéndote con la Guardia baja.

Te ahogas con los ojos cerrados mientras lo sientes jugar con tu lengua y explorar tu boca. Se aleja lentamente con una sonrisa embobada mientras observa como te tragas la píldora.

── Pronto empezará a funcionar, sólo espera. ── Sonríe antes de besarte el cuello y morder tu clavícula, dejando en esta pequeñas pero notorias marcas.

Lo dejas hacer lo que quería y simplemente cierras los ojos en un suspiro, sintiendo un poco de nerviosismo por los efectos que la droga tendría en ti.

Aprieta levemente tus pechos mientras mueve levemente los pezones entre sus dedos, una extraña sensación comenzó a florecer a través de tu cuerpo y mente. Se estaba volviendo brumoso y denso de lujuria. Tu cuerpo se estaba calentando lentamente y comienzas a ser incapaz de pensar con claridad.

── ¿Q-qué demonios es...? ── Lloriqueas mientras Sanzu te miraba adorablemente, la droga estaba tomando efecto en él también.

── Se siente bien, ¿No? Aunque te toque de esta manera... ── Él arrastra su mano hacia abajo de tu lado, ya sintiendo una chispa de placer solo por su toque, su toque se sentía como fuego, se sentía muy bien. Tiras de su ropa con fuertes respiraciones, queriendo terminar con esto ya.

Sanzu comienza a encogerse de hombros con el chaleco mientras lo observas con inpaciencia. Y luego te diste cuenta de toda la razón por la que no se molestó en desnudarse al principio.

Todo era sólo para molestarte mientras inconscientemente balanceabas tus caderas de un lado a otro sobre su pierna.

Un pequeño gemido se escapa de tu boca, mientras Sanzu se ríe ── Espera linda. ── A pesar de que tenía un mejor manejo de la droga, él también estaba sintiendo el calor y el deseo.

Lo besas descuidadamente, él finalmente se quitó la camisa y rápidamente desabrocha sus pantalones. El se aparta del beso para agarrar algo de la mesita de noche.

── Vamos a usar esto. ── Sanzu sonríe con locura mientras muestra un arma en sus manos. Tu mente se despejó inmediatamente después de ver el arma. ── ¡¿Estás loco?! ¡No!

── Ugh, bien. ── Sanzu gruñe antes de descargar las balas. Caen al suelo mientras las observabas.

── ¿Ves? No más balas. Totalmente seguro ahora. ── Sanzu sonríe antes de señalar el arma ya completamente descargada observandote fijamente.

Te estremeces haciendo que Sanzu se ría. ── ¿Qué pasa? No va a doler. Vamos a jugar un poco antes de llegar al plato principal ¿No? Tu palabra segura es... rojo, ahora chupalo.

Oyes en un tono de voz exigente, lo miras en confusión. ── ¿Qué?

── Espero haber sido claro, he dicho chupala. ── Te agarra del cabello áspero y te apunta la pistola en la cabeza haciéndote un guiño. Tu cuerpo se tensa al sentir el arma en tu cabeza.

Bajas rápidamente de su regazo y se inclina para lamerle su miembro como él te ordeno. ── Vamos... ── Sanzu gruñe, empujando he apuntando el arma en tu cabeza.

A pesar de que sabías exactamente bien que el arma era inofensiva, todavía envió una oleada de miedo a través de tus venas por lo que rápidamente cumplias y giras tu bonita lengua rosada alrededor de su punta.

Emite un gemido ── Buena chica, por fin hacés algo útil por una vez. ── Lo tomas todo completamente en tu boca, Sanzu lanzó su cabeza hacia atrás, el agarre sobre tu cabello cada vez era más fuerte.

──Mierda si que eres buena. ── Agarras respiraciones profundas cuando golpea la parte posterior de tu garganta, así que rápidamente tratas de salir.

── ¿A dónde crees que vas? ── Él frunce la cabeza antes de empujar tu cabeza levemente hacia abajo.

Te ahogas y sintiendo arcadas, lágrimas surgen por tus ojos mientras él te obligaba a permanecer sobre su miembro antes de abrir.

Toses violentamente mientras él miraba con una sonrisa sádica. ── ¡Psicopata! ── Llora mientras se limpia la boca, pero ��l sólo agarra tu barbilla aproximadamente.

── Eso es suficiente, vamos a la parte divertida ahora. ── Sanzu te apunta con el arma. ── Vete a la cama.

Te pones de pie, temblorosa antes de caminar y acostarte, sentías los ojos de Sanzu perforando tu espalda, su paciencia no fue suficiente lo cual ocasionó que te empuje directo a la cama.

Sanzu sonríe felizmente antes de gatear por encima de ti ──Parece que vas a estallar en lágrimas en cualquier momento ahora... Me encanta. ── Él irradia antes de sostener el arma debajo de tu barbilla.

Él te mira fijamente a los ojos mientras alinea su miembro a tu entrada. ── Quiero ver todas las caras que haces así que mantén los ojos abiertos ahora...

Golpea bruscamente, haciendo que chilles antes de que comience a golpear rápido.

Él jadea pesadamente con una mirada eufórica en sus ojos, la cara enrojecida al sonreírte. ──Te sientes tan bien _______...

Te aferras a sus hombros mientras abusa de tu entrada, haciendo que sueltes pequeños quejidos.

── ¿No se siente bien? ── Te pregunta mientras vuelves la cabeza hacia atrás.

── ¡Se siente bien Sanzu! Ah~ Ah... ── Sus movimientos se hacían cada vez más bruscos, le exitaba demasiado tus gemidos.

Él gruñe mientras examina tu rostro, su sorpresa viene. ── Voy a correrme dentro. ── Empuja el arma contra tu barbilla con más fuerza mientras haces un guiño.

── Todo lo que tengo que hacer es apretar este gatillo y... ── se ríe de una manera excesiva con los ojos abiertos. ── ¡Morirás!

Sanzu adoraba ver tu rostro de horror en estos momentos ── Voy a hacerlo voy a tirar. ── Sonríe antes de poner el dedo en el gatillo mientras entras en pánico. ── ¡N-no! ¡Alto, espera, Roj-

Su frente se agita cuando te escucha a punto de usar la palabra segura pero estaba tan jodidamente exitado, cerca y sólo necesitaba este empujón para correrse. Te besa a toda prisa, te corta mientras tus protestas salen ahogadas y tira del gatillo sin dudarlo.

Las embestidas se hacían más rápidas, hasta que sientes un líquido caliente fluyendo dentro de ti, alcanzando tu propio orgasmo.

Los dos se alejan mientras respiran pesadamente.

Sanzu te mira hacia abajo antes de descartar la pistola. ── ¿Ves? No pasó nada, cariño~ ── Sonríe perezosamente mientras las lágrimas brotan en tus ojos.

Te burlas de él, pero estabas demasiado agotada para hacer algo, te levantas y vistes rápidamente con algunas dificultades debido a lo anteriormente sucedido.

El observa cómo te dirigías hacia la puerta. ── Tal como prometí, seguiré adelante y hablaré con Akashi acerca de Senju. Pero si no funciona, es posible que tenga que chupar su pene también. ── Él se ríe mientras mira hacia atrás por última vez haciéndote enojar.

── ¡Vete al diablo! ── Gritas largandote del lugar, pero aún puedes escuchar su risa en el pasillo.

[softshuji]

*a sudden noise slips out as you say that, sounding suspiciously like a whimper*

Ye-ah you can say that

-Sanzu

*pauses in surprise* oh....oh my, I didn't think you'd like that. You really are a good boy aren't you? I'm going to have so much fun with you. Hmm, you've never done this before have you? It's your first time?

[keisukebajimipatron]

Sanzu Haruchiyo Cosplay

Buenas! I'm going to leave this here for inspiration, I found this on Pinterest so here is the folder where you can find it.

Toman!Sanzu

Bonten!Sanzu

Mikey's Dog

[mochiswifey]

SANZU’S PART IS NOW AVAILABLE.

A slight change has been made to the plot.

FOR YOU STAY

Bonten

CW: Smut*Age-Gap^Suicide^Death^Angst^Fluff^Yandere^Noncon?^Drugs^Human Trafficking^Cannibalism^Fucked Up Shits^

MIKEY [Knife To My Heart]

He never though his heart would beat again. But one look at your bright and genuine smile? He was ready to ruin the world just for you.

SANZU [CHLORINE]

My king. Was what occupied his whole life until he met you. The one more addicting than the pills he has been taking all of his life.

KAKUCHO [From Where We Are]

No words, no emotion. You stay to yourself. He thought nothing of you until the day he witnessed your acts of kindness and those were stamped like a hot iron into his mind.

KOKONOI [Worst Than A Traitor]

You try to act tough, but it’s all a facade. You let him into your heart yet…. He used it to turn you into someone he never forgot.

RAN [First Of The Thousands]

He doesn’t believe into the cliched love stories, yet you’re about to give him one.

RINDOU [Follow The Light]

Falling in love while you’re fading away. He has never tried to keep someone yet…

TAKEOMI [Rewrite Our History]

Under no circumstances should the two of you have met. Destiny makes interesting chances.

KANJI [Trial & Error]

You’ve lived so many lives just for him to love you right. Will it finally change after you stop trying and start living for yourself?

[joonipertree]

Sano Manjiro, the most frustrating man to have a crush on

You learnt that Mikey punched a guy who asked you out. Mikey refuses to explain why. Both of you are dumbasses.

Tags: fluff, stupid shit, getting together, friends to lovers, fem bodied reader, smut at the end, it's him just eating you out sjsns, slight Dom/sub undertones because I can't help myself

  Mikey was a dumbass. 

In every sense of the word, he was a short fucking dumbass with a deep melodic voice and great hair. The biggest dumbass in the world. You wanted to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Genuinely, you couldn’t stand that man. In no way could you imagine him ever being a good boyfriend. He’d suck at it-----

“Oi, Sano Manjiro.” 

The man in question turned, face dead and eyebrow twitching. 

“What?”

“Did you beat up the guy? 

“I beat up a lot of guys.”

“The guy who asked me out.”

Mikey sat back with his palms on the ground and Toman jacket secured on his back. His hair had gotten long, a bit too long for his liking and he still hadn’t decided how to cut it. You’d already taken the liberty over the last few weeks to tie them in pigtails and braid them to your heart’s content. He’d just walk around like that without batting an eye. 

“Yeah, he went out with one hit. You could do better.”

“Do you know who you are? The fuck. That could have killed him.”

“He isn’t in the hospital or anything.”

You turned around, not being able to take a look at your friend anymore than you needed to. Everyone around you stared with either pity or annoyance. Sanzu, Emma and Ken-chin were utterly done with Mikey’s dumbassery and Chifuyu was done with yours. Baji and Kazutora were done with both of you. They just always choose the stupid people as friends. 

“You weren’t gonna say ‘yes’ were you?”

And you weren’t. The boy had very bravely confessed his feelings for you (unlike some people) and before you could even tell him your answer, he’d told you to think about it at least. You’d appreciated it and left at that, already planning on saying no. 

“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?”

“Oh my god,” Emma muttered out in agony. 

"Maybe you should nurse him back to health then." 

"Yeah I was already planning on it." 

No you were not.

You left with an emphasis on your steps, back straight and eyes hard because you were stubborn. You didn't care if Mikey won at being the most stubborn person in the block, you would beat him at his own game.

♡

"You know he likes you. He has for years. He knows you like him. Just fuck already." Chifuyu moaned out, having gotten over the shoujo vibes very quickly after seeing the slow burn drag out. 

"I dunno what you're talking about." 

You wanted to deny it. Not deny that you were in love with Mikey but deny he was in love with you. Because admitting it meant hoping for something to happen and false hope got you hurt. People got close, they saw you in your humanity and ran away. The only people you trusted not to leave were your friends, Mikey included. 

"Oh come on. I have given you a powerpoint presentation and a whole binder worth of evidence that Mikey likes you. I nearly got wiped out by Draken for taking one too many pictures." 

You snorted. Chifuyu being a romantic buffoon with an overeager imagination made it harder for you to accept it. But you did acknowledge, not with the binder full of pictures and 'receipts', that Mikey had a soft spot for you. 

You got close at 17, Mikey being an extroverted loud mouth and you being a shy but curious introvert. He took you on bike rides, talked to you while making eye contact, held your hand and pulled you next to him and you fed him bites of your food and let him sleep on your lap. 

But you wanted to argue that….Mikey was just friendly like that. 

It had been a few years before you noticed that Mikey rarely made eye contact with people while talking but always asked for your attention. You both were hopeless and were just waiting for the other one to confess. It was getting painful. 

Chifuyu's eyes shifting to the side made you alert because he wasn't good at acting. And when he got up and ran, you knew who came inside. 

"Hi, Captain! Bye, Captain!" 

Mikey sat in front of you, dark bottomless eyes staring into your soul. You looked back at him, still pissed that he punched a perfectly nice guy. He then eyed your sundae and you immediately pulled it closer to you. He needed to learn that actions had consequences and that you weren't weak for him.

  With a pout, Mikey placed his chin on his arms, splayed out on the table. It made you aware how broad he was, fingers nimble and boney and angular.

 Pretty. Always so pretty. 

"How's your boyfriend doing?" 

Your teeth clicked and with a roll of your eyes, you established that Mikey needed to get pushed off a cliff somewhere. 

"So you aren't gonna tell me?" 

"Tell you what?" Mikey drawled out, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

"Why you punched an innocent dude."

"He pissed me off." 

"Why?" 

"Did you say yes?" 

"Answer me first." 

"I did." 

You glared, taking a petty bite of your ice cream in retaliation. Mikey glared back harder, only changing when he looked out the corner of his eyes. You were about to turn your head before he spoke up again. 

"It was an accident." 

Your snort was loud and unattractive, hiding your face to try and compose yourself. When you looked up,Mikey's face had softened. 

"I don't believe you." 

"It's the truth. Answer my question." 

You debated your options. Because maybe saying that 'yeah I want to date him' would be going too far considering it would be a lie. But admitting that you didn't meant even more probing questions. Like why you were annoyed at Mikey for punching someone you didn't wanna date.

"Why do you care?" You retaliated like a dumbass.

"You're pissing me off." 

"Good." 

There was another pause. Mikey's hand moving to steal your bowl. You swerve it away from him with no chance of winning with his reflexes and the limited space. So your hand went to grab his wrist. 

Your heart raced at immediate contact. You became all too aware of him. Aware of his delicate wrist, the muscle, the bone that jutted out, the blue veins against pale skin. You became aware of his reddened and bruised knuckles, his calluses and ripped cuticles. They were hands of a delinquent, that liked to grip things too tight and didn't mind rough surfaces and reveled in strenuous activity. They were big too, too big against your own hand and too rough for your soft skin. 

And they were warm, soaking into you to leave a lasting impression. 

Mikey let go of the bowl in favor of holding your arm, gentle and all encompassing. His thumb rubbed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form and a shiver to run down your spine. 

"I was fighting with Takemitchy. The dude got caught in the crossfire. My hand landed on his face by accident. I can show you Mitchy as proof. He still looks run down. Even I took a few hits." 

You saw. Saw the scratches on his face and the redness of his jaw. It made you want to chide him for not bandaging himself. But he always liked it when you did it. Your eyes couldn't meet his, staring at your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his thumb rubbing your skin. 

"You need to stop fighting in public settings." 

"It wasn't that bad. A tire or two got thrown around but that's about it." 

"Where did you--- not gonna ask." 

Mikey giggled, soft and gravelly. You were reminded that the years changed his voice in a way that was still his. There was a pause and you realised the question eating away at you wouldn't go away until you asked it. The secret you kept wouldn't help being hidden away. You were tired and just wanted him. 

"You know……I talked to the guy today. Went to meet him." 

Mikey's eyes instantly hardened, looking away with a click of his tongue. 

"Ah, did he tell you I knocked his brains out? You shouldn't date a liar." 

"No," you tried to keep your voice casual, "he told me that it hurt but you weren't even looking at him when it happened. He just got too close." 

"Then why did you ask---" 

"He apologised though, said he didn't know I had a boyfriend." 

Mikey’s lips tugged upwards, turning his head to the side so he could catch his composure. And you were ready to slap the shit out of him. 

“Huh, I don’t know what gave him that impression. We must look good together.”

“I feel like you saying ‘that’s for asking my girl out’ after you hit him might’ve done the trick.”

Mikey held his hands up in surrender, knees knocking against yours almost to tease. 

"I didn't hit him, I just repurposed the accident. Didn't want it to go to waste." 

"Manjiro." 

"What?"

"I'm not yours." 

"Since when?" 

"Since always!!" 

His eyebrows furrowed, leaning back with a huge frown like you'd just told him his house burnt down. 

"What the fuck?"

"You can't just make me yours without asking me first, asshat." 

"Everyone knows you're mine."

"I dont." 

Mikey took your hand, lips on the back of it as if it was a normal part of his day. But your breath hitched and you froze. Because oh---

"I found you first." 

Your palms slammed against the table.

"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it on my mouth, you coward---"

And within the next second, Manjiro’s mouth crashed into yours. It nearly knocked you back, if it wasn’t for his hand at the back of your head, curling into your hair. You whimpered against him, his lips tugging into a satisfied smirk. 

Chifuyu had yelled out, “Fucking finally!!”

The sound of your lips parting away from each other was enough to make you want to lean back in. Your lips weren’t willing to move even an inch away from him. He tasted good. Like vanilla. And he had trouble keeping himself away from you as well, leaving chaste kisses on the corners of your mouth, fingers keeping your chin lifted up. 

A throat was cleared, your cheeks instantly burned with the realisation of where you were. Mikey glared at the waiter who just let him know that it was time to leave. And with fingers interlocked, Mikey pulled you away from the diner, sticking out his tongue to Ken-chin who sighed in relief and leaned against Emma.

You got on his bike without question, heart racing because oh god--

The door to his room slammed open and he barely paid attention to anything with his arm around you. You giggled as he lifted you up and swirled you inside with a flourish. Once the door was shut, his laughter was loud and warm as his lips crashed into you, hungry for more. And you let him lead you, combing your hand through his hair causing him to shiver. 

Mikey hugged you close, gentle in his touch and you let him swallow you whole and envelop you. When his tongue prodded against your lip, you parted them easily as if he didn’t even have to ask. And oh, he felt good.

 But Mikey will spend the rest of your lives telling you that you were the best feeling in the world. 

“Mine.” Manjiro murmured out, sucking on your lower lip so harshly that your whole body did a visceral shudder. 

You were breathing hard when you parted, eyes hazy but daring as you looked your best friend in the eye. 

“You still haven’t asked me, asshat.”

Manjiro growled, eyes narrowed and twitching. Your head and body threw itself back as you burst out laughing, feeling free because you knew Mikey’s arm would never let you fall. That led your neck to be exposed to the littering kisses Manjiro gave out of vengeance.

 You squealed as it tickled and felt your knees give out against the bed beneath you. He’d backed you up, without you noticing, like a predator cornering its prey for a meal well earned. 

You felt yourself sink into the soft mattress, hand reached out to tug his shirt down towards you. Manjiro just stared at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you didn’t understand and a grin so wide you could see all his teeth. 

“Mine, in every timeline.” Mikey whispered. 

And your breath hitched, speaking out without a second thought. 

“Yours, in every universe.” 

Manjiro’s eyes watered and he finally enveloped you, body a welcomed weight as he kissed you in slow languid bliss. 

“Good baby,” he whispered and you whined out. 

You pawed at him, liking the praise a little too much. Manjiro’s kisses left a wet hot trail as he went from your chin to your cheek. A wet sound heard every time his lips disconnected from you. You let him have his way, feeling his hand pat the side of your head. 

You wanted to kiss him back but every time you tried, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and you just laid there as he poured his love into you. You had begun to tear up because Manjiro's love was overwhelming and it was for you.

Your eyes closed as his lips met your eyelids, tasting the salty tears and pulling back to inspect your face. You mewled at the lost contact, opening your eyes and pouting.

Oh, how dare he 

He hushed you, hand patting your head again, lips continuing their venture on your face. 

 Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. And both of you became aware of the effect the intimacy had on you.

 Manjiro pressed into you, hips solid and confident. And you felt his bulge against your pussy, only his pants and your underwear in the way. it was enough to drive you insane. 

You yearned and yearned and begged with pretty fluttery eyes that had him breathless. 

“Yeah? You wan’ me, honey?”

And despite the embarrassment, you nodded with the biggest pout you could muster. And Manjiro melted just at that, ready to burn the world for you if you asked him to. In another timeline, he probably had. 

“Haven’t even been dating for a minute and you're already so needy.”

He didn’t even let you blubber out a complaint before your underwear was exposed to him. And you craved him so badly that your legs made space for only Manjiro. He appreciated it, boney fingers squeezing your hips before imprinting the memory of the wet patch into his mind. 

Oh you were so sweet. A type of pliable that was only given to those you trusted. 

“Not allowed to hide anything, okay?”

And with that, his nose traced the outline of your pussy, tongue peaking out for a taste that just wasn’t enough for you. Your thighs squished against his cheeks and he groaned, pressing his full mouth onto you. Your hips jutted upwards, a cry weak and wobbly escaping your lips. And with effort, you spoke.

“Stop teasing, jerk.”

The warmth was too much, you could feel him right there but the cotton was in the way. Despite your protest, he lapped you up out of greed. And your hands clutched onto his hair. 

“If there’s nothing between us, I won’t be sane.” You heard him say and it just made you needier. 

“Don’ want you to be. Please.”

And with that, his hand ripped your panties out of the way. Manjiro took a second to stare in awe at your pretty pussy. It was so wet, begging him to eat it out, practically drooling. Many thoughts went through his head.

How it would feel to be inside you, how warm it would be, if he could last long in the tightness? If he'd ever be able to survive without the taste of your pussy after this moment? If he gave your cunt a smack, would you like it?

Manjiro decided that keeping you waiting was the worst thing he could possibly do. 

Mikey was a lot more hungry than he thought he was. Your pussy was engulfed in his mouth.

 The direct contact was enough to make him moan. Your own got stuck in your throat, not realising how overwhelming it would be. When his tongue prodded inside, you let him guide your legs against your chest so that he could have more access. And then it plunged inside and you let out a warbled moan that felt too loud in your own ears. With a hand covering your mouth, you tried to suppress the little sounds tumbling out of you.

Manjiro’s middle finger tapped against the plush of your thigh and he pulled away with effort to say:

“No hiding. Be good.”

You cried out, flexing your fingers in his hair as he went back to the task at hand. And you let yourself voice out the feeling, soft “ah, ah, ah”s filling the air and causing you to tear up in embarrassment. 

“Wan’ to be-be good for you.”

“Mhmmm,” He answered with the vibration of his hum shooting through your pussy and into your back that arched almost painfully. 

The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into you the second Manjiro’s mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

You didn’t even care how loud you were being, brain wiping out everything it had as your body arched and twitched. Manjiro only stopped lapping your cum when you flinched away, kissing your inner thigh before moving to you for a kiss. 

You let him inside your mouth easily, whimpering and pawing at his shoulder as you held him close. You shook in his embrace, muttering out weak and tiny ‘thank you’s that had him chuckling at you. 

“Did your Manjiro make you feel good, bubba?” 

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, kissing the corner of his lips in appreciation. 

[matriarchjojo]

-> TOKYO REVENGERS MASTERLIST

ふしだらな女クラブ ღ

GROUP♡FICS.

Hot Model Sex (toman ver)

Hot Model Sex (bonten ver)

Movie Night Gone Wrong

Movie Night Gone Right

Heads Rolling For The One I Adore

Breed Me Please!

Nasty, Icky, Filthy And Sticky

Daddy, I Can Feel It In My Tummy

I Think You Come From Another World

Bonten's Whore

Don't Cum Until Daddy Tells You To

Big Tr Men

First Times

The Shibas Pretty Step Sis

Enemies To Fuck-Buddies

I Got A Crush On You

Slumber Party

Shy Bimbo Reader

Sleeping Beauty

Knock, knock!

Tenjiku's Whore

SERIES.

Bonten's Baby.

Mikey

Dark Paradise (angst/dark fic)

Off To The Races

Motherfucker

Don't Cum Until Daddy Tells You To

Baji

Who Cares?

I Got A Crush On You

He's Right There!

Are You Scared Of The Big Bad Wolf?

Rindou

Watch Out, Little Kitty!

Ditch Your Bitch

Gold Digger

Fuckin' In The Back Of A Cop Car

Caught By Big Bro

Why Won't You Let Me Move On?

Deceiving

Ran

Watch Out, Little Kitty!

Stepdaddy Ran

Bratty Sub Ran

Sanzu

Innocent Little Slut

Sweet Mamas Boy

Caught Red Handed

Don't Cum Until Daddy Tells You To

Making Sanzu Watch You

Forever and ever mine

You Make Me Feel Like Heaven

Taiju

Like Bunnies In Heat

Inui

Better Swallow His Spit

Shinichiro

Bimbo Meets Biker Virgin

Koko

Tennis Outfit

Washing Maschine Heart

In My Leopard Limo

Mitsuya

Try On The Corset I Made

[inkykeiji]

you can always take more than nothing

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader

genre: smut

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

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

words: 8.6k

synopsis:

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

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

A party, thinly veiled as a corporate event. 

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

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

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

Good. You told him it suited him.

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

Not that any of them mind. 

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

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

You miss Mikey.

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

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

But you miss Mikey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pervert. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My charms,” you correct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like you want him to devour you. 

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

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

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

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

He’s high. 

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

He’s feeling good tonight.

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

“Oh, really?”

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

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

“A-And what’s that?”

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

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

“Daddy—Da-Daddy, it’s—” 

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

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

“And who’s fault is that, huh?” 

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

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

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

“Please? Please what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feel better, princess?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Eager, are we?” 

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

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

“Tell me anyway,” he demands.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re starting to cause a scene. 

It’s exactly what he wanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that he minds one bit.

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

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

So he does. 

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

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

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

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

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

So much for being inconspicuous. 

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

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

Still, it’s enough for Mikey.   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-Huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tweedledum and Tweedledee respectively, and just as treacherous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. Kokonoi is looking at you. 

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

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

“How can you tell?” 

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

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

Mikey’s right—Koko’s about to burst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s the motherfucking Boss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sound so pretty right before you cum, Daddy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, well, Daddy always gets what Daddy wants. 

[chronic-claire-universe]

Hello dust bunnies long headcanon ahead, it actually happened in real life and I couldn't stop thinking it as a good source material.

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, Sub/Dom behaviours, Overstimulation, Pegging, Choking, Exhibitionism, Female, 18+.

I recently got with a guy, he has quite the feminine and delicate appareance, but despite this his voice is really deep and he's quite extrovert and flirty.

You would expect him to be a dom in bed, but turns out that he’s switch, boy loves being in charge during oral sex, he’s down for overstimulating, like expect him to make you cum non stop with his tongue and finger.

He is quite dedicated to it you don’t even understand when your orgasm start and finish because it keeps going until he sees you completely devastated only from that.

After probably letting you experience this uttershocking pleasure that’s where his sub behaviours come out.

Despite all this boy, has a different arrange of kinks that goes from: choking, pegging, exhibitionism and a cute obsession for boobs.

He enjoys and isn’t ashamed to moan loud to show you how good he is feeling, he also takes pride into letting you scream his name so that his neighbors will know how good he is, "Let them hear you", he says while fucking you deep and hard before letting you come once and finally take the strap on and have what he longed for so much.

Straightly goes on his hand and knees ready to be fucked and meeting your hips, while you tight your hand around his neck and kiss his neck and earlobe making him more sensitive and as soon as you get into it he will moan so loud humping the bed and finally coming all over the sheets.

Aftercare it will be surprisingly sweet, boy is lazy and just want you to hold him and kiss and caress his hair while falling asleep on your boobs.

Repeat this for 3-4 times and expect another round as soon as you wake up in the morning, boy has stamina.

SATORU GOJO, Reo Mikage, , Yuu Nishinoya, Hajime Kokonoi, Felix, HARUCHIYO SANZU, Chuuya Nakahara, Ran Haitani.

[kokonoiis]

BONTEN Members Profile and Facts :

BONTEN is a Japanese boy group formed by TR Entertainment known for hardly ever appearing in music videos or promotions. The group consists of 8 Members: Mikey, Sanzu, Kakucho, Mocchi, Takeomi, Ran, Rindou, and Koko.

Group Name Explanation : Bonten ( 梵天 ) is the Japanese name of the Hindu creator god Brahma.

BONTEN Official Fandom Name : Tennies BONTEN Official SNS :

Official Website: bonten. com/artists X ( Twitter ): official.bonten Instagram: bontenfficial Facebook: official.bonten Youtube: BONTEN.

BONTEN Member Profiles :

MIKEY :

Stage Name: Mikey ( マイキー ) Birth Name: Manjiro Sano ( 佐野 万次郎 ) Position: Leader, Main Vocalist Birthday: August 20, 1990 Zodiac Sign: Leo Chinese Zodiac Sign: Horse Height: 162 cm ( 5’4” ) Weight: 56 kg ( 123 lbs ) Blood Type: B Nationality: Japanese

Mikey Facts : - Mikey's favorite foods are dorayaki, omurice, and taiyaki - he dislikes spicy food - the person he respects or admires is himself - there is no one that Mikey dislikes or fears - Mikey was rated number 1 from Top 3 Worst Boyfriends

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SANZU :

Stage Name: Sanzu ( 三途 ) Birth Name:  Akashi Haruchiyo ( 明司 春千夜 ) Position: Main dancer, visual, vocalist Birthday:  July 3, 1990 Zodiac Sign:  Cancer Chinese Zodiac Sign: Horse Height: 172 cm ( 5'8'' ) Weight: 55 kg ( 121 lbs ) Blood Type:  AB Nationality: Japanese

Sanzu Facts : - Sanzu has a very popular YouTube Channel shared with his sister, Senju Kawaragi ( Akashi Siblings ) - He dislikes spicy food, as it makes him sweat - The person he respects or admires is Mikey - The people he dislikes or fears are smothering people - Sanzu is ranked first in the Most Needy Significant Other Poll and number 2 in the question ' Who is the worst lover ? '

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KAKUCHO :

Stage Name: Kakucho ( 鶴蝶 ) Birth Name: Kakucho Position: Main Vocalist Birthday: October 2, 1987 Zodiac Sign: Libra Chinese Zodiac Sign: Rabbit Height: 179 cm ( 5'10'' ) Weight: 63 kg ( 139 lbs ) Blood Type: O Nationality: Japanese

Kakucho Facts : - Kakucho loves training - The person he respects or admires is Tenjiku's leader, Izana Kurokawa - There is no one he dislikes or fears - he ranked number 1 from the question ' Who is the best lover ? ' - He released a song with Izana Kurokawa named " Our Kingdom "

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MOCCHI :

Stage Name: Mocchi ( モッチー ) Birth Name: Mochizuki Kanji ( 望月 完爾 ) Position: Rapper, sub vocalist Birthday: March 9, 1988 Zodiac Sign: Pisces Chinese Zodiac Sign: Dragon Height: 192 cm ( 6'4'' ) Weight: 94 kg ( 207 lbs ) Blood Type: B Nationality: Japanese

Mocchi Facts : - Mocchi likes corn - His special skill is arm wrestling - The person eh respects or admires is Tenjiku's leader, Izana Kurakawa - The person he dislikes is Tenjiku member Shion Madarame - Mocchi once ate 50 jumbo dumplings for a contest

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TAKEOMI :

Stage Name: Takeomi Birth Name: Akashi Takeomi ( 明司 武臣 ) Position: Rapper, oldest Birthday: March 10, 1981 Zodiac Sign: Pisces Chinese Zodiac Sign: Rooster  Height: 183 cm ( 6'0'' ) Weight: 72 kg ( 159 lbs ) Blood Type: B Nationality: Japanese

Takeomi Facts : - Takeomi dislikes anything that takes a significant amount of effort from him - other members say his special skill is taking advantage of other people - His dream is to become a multimillionaire - Takeomi likes to say he's the father figure of the group, but the others say he's not very fatherly - He dislikes anyone who looks down on him

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RAN :

Stage Name: Ran Birth Name: Haitani Ran ( 灰谷 蘭 ) Position: Main Rapper, center Birthday: May 26, 1987 Zodiac Sign: Gemini Chinese Zodiac Sign: Rabbit Height: 183 cm ( 6'0'' ) Weight: 70 kg ( 154 lbs ) Blood Type: A Nationality: Japanese

Ran Facts : - Ran likes Yves Saint Laurent and Mont Blanc - he takes great care of his hair and regularly goes to beauty salons in Harajuku to get it done - Ran tends to get very close to people when they talk to him; everyone thinks he's being flirtatious or trying to intimidate, but in reality Ran does this because he is nearsighted - the person he respects or admires is Kakucho - the people he dislikes are Toman members Tetta Kisaki and Shuji Hanma

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RINDOU :

Stage Name: Rindou Birth Name: Haitani Rindou ( 灰谷 竜胆 ) Position: Vocalist, rapper, center Birthday: October 20, 1988 Zodiac Sign: Libra Chinese Zodiac Sign: Dragon Height: 172 cm ( 5'8'' ) Weight: 65 kg ( 143 lbs ) Blood Type: B Nationality: Japanese

Rindou Facts : - Rindou likes DJing and muscle training - he enjoys drinking alcohol at several times throughout the day - the person he respects or admires is Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira - the person he dislikes or fears is Ran Haitani - Rindou ranked number 2 from the question ' Who is the best lover ? '

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KOKO :

Stage Name: Koko ( ココ ) Birth Name: Kokonoi Hajime ( 九井 一 ) Position: Vocalist, visual, maknae Birthday: April 1, 1990 Zodiac Sign: Aries Chinese Zodiac Sign: Horse Height: 174 cm ( 5'9'' ) Weight: 60 kg ( 132 lbs ) Blood Type: A Nationality: Japanese

Koko Facts : - Koko's special skill is standing behind others and being a big eater - his hobby is fortune telling with playing cards and swimming - he has bad eyesight and does not like to play ballgames or drive - Koko pokes his tongue out whenever he's feeling especially confident in himself - he ranked number 3 from the question ' Who is the best lover ? '

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Who is your BONTEN bias? ✔ Mikey      9,792 votes Sanzu      4,356 votes Kakucho      3,298 votes Mocchi      3,012 votes Takeomi      2,346 votesRan      8,986 votes Rindou      7,873 votes ✔ Koko      5,002 votes

NO ART IS MINE !! bonten idol art by @ kaya_iris on twt !!