#kakucho

you’re standing in the far corner of a packed club— music pulsing, lights flashing, the press of bodies all around. but ran’s hands are steady, possessive, gliding under the hem of your skirt like he owns you. and tonight, he does.

he ducks down, his lips brushing your throat. “you wanted attention, didn’t you?” he murmurs, rocking his hips forward, just enough for you to feel the stiff line of his cock beneath his jeans. “wearing that tiny little thing… fuck, baby. you’re not making it easy.”

he slips a hand between your thighs from behind— quick, practiced, and far too confident for someone doing it in public. two fingers press right against the thin lace of your panties, stroking over your folds and making your knees wobble.

“shhh,” he chuckles when you whimper. “no one can see. not unless you make a scene.”

his other hand lifts your skirt just slightly in the back— enough for the cool air to hit the backs of your thighs, enough for him to see exactly how soaked the fabric’s gotten. “look at that,” he drawls. “dripping for me? in a room full of people? we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

you twist in his grip, but he holds you in place, his fingers slipping beneath the soaked seat of your panties and swirling over top of your clit. your breath catches, and ran bites down a groan of his own as it twitches under his touch.

“if i told you to get on your knees right now, would you do it?”

you don’t answer, your mouth parted on a silent moan as his middle finger finally dips into your pussy. ran just laughs, glancing down at you knowingly. “that’s what i thought. stay still, princess, or i’ll fuck you right here where everyone can watch.”

☆ track #2: rindou haitani 　— feat. brat taming

you’re pushing his buttons on purpose.

rindou knows it. he’s known it since the second you walked into the club wearing that skintight dress, the one that clings to your curves and rides up every time you so much as breathe. it’s in the way you bat your lashes at him, the way your lips curl when he narrows his eyes at you. you’ve been needling him all night— talking back with that smart mouth, grinding in his lap under the guise of dancing, whispering obscene little things into his ear just to watch his jaw clench. 

he’d kept himself together in public, but now? now, you're bare from the waist down, draped over his lap like a ragdoll, your dress bunched around your hips and your panties discarded somewhere on the floor. your thighs are trembling, your breathing shallow, but that devious smile is still on your face.

“you done?” rindou’s voice is calm, but there’s a heat simmering beneath it. his hands are firm on your hips, his thumbs pressing into the tender space between your pelvis and ass, locking you in place. “or do i have to fuck the attitude out of you?”

you giggle, and that’s all the answer he needs.

the first slap lands with a loud crack, his palm colliding with the plush swell of your ass hard enough to make you yelp. your hands claw at the bedsheets as your spine arches, your hips jerking forward before he hauls them back into place. another blow follows almost instantly, and then another— each one harder than the last, paced perfectly to let the sting blossom into something molten.

he watches the handprints bloom across your skin, evidence of your disobedience painted in vivid red. he rubs over one, soothing the burn just long enough to make the next strike even more startling.

“still think it’s funny?” he asks coolly, “go on, laugh again.”

you don’t.

“there we go.” his tone is smug now, satisfaction dripping from every syllable. “knew you’d come to your senses eventually.”

his hand drags down the curve of your back, following the slope of your spine until he reaches the soft, sticky heat between your legs. his fingertips ghost over your folds, and you shiver, a pathetic little sound slipping from your throat as your hips buck instinctively toward the contact. he clicks his tongue under his breath, withdrawing just as quickly. 

“nuh uh,” he mutters. “you wanna act like a brat? act all big and bad, baby? then you better be ready to take the consequences.”

he slips two fingers inside you without warning— slow but firm, stretching you wide as your walls flutter helplessly around the intrusion. his knuckles brush your entrance as he curls them, hitting that spot inside you that makes your knees nearly buckle. 

“now count. let’s see how many more you can take before you start begging.”

☆ track #3: sanzu haruchiyo 　— feat. ruined orgasms

sanzu doesn’t let you cum. not properly, anyway.

he’s mean, smiling sweet as sugar with one hand around your throat and the other between your legs, fingers drenched from the mess he’s already made of you. you’ve been riding the edge for what feels like hours now, your cunt slick and swollen, your thighs sore from how many times they’ve tensed, your voice hoarse from all the cries he’s dragged out of you.

“fuck, you sound so pretty when you cry,” he murmurs. his middle finger presses deep inside you, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. “but you don’t deserve it yet. not until i say so.”

you’re nothing but nerve endings now— overstimulated and underfucked, ruined from the inside out. and still, he doesn’t let up. his hand leaves your throat only to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward his with a gentleness that doesn’t quite match the feral glint in his eyes.

he presses his thumb against your clit again, and your whole body jolts. your hips lift in a desperate attempt to chase the pressure, but he doesn’t give it to you. not when you’re right on the brink of an orgasm— not even after half an hour of this torture.

he pulls his hand away with a wet sound, the slick between your legs shiny on his fingers. you don’t know whether to beg or scream, blinking through tears as the tension inside you ebbs away.

“oh, angel,” he coos, tapping your cheek condescendingly. “that almost sounded like a sob. you want it so bad, don’t you? you wanna cum on my fingers? you think you’ve earned it?”

your head nods before he’s even finished speaking, and sanzu leans down, practically purring in your ear. “go ahead, baby. cum for me.”

he thrusts his fingers once, twice— expertly stroking against your twitching walls, and when your body seizes again, right at the cusp of bliss, he stops. his fingers slip out of you just as your climax crests, the release yanked from your body like a punishment rather than a reward. it’s unsatisfying, a cruel imitation of pleasure.

your cunt clenches around nothing, throbbing through the aftershocks of an orgasm you didn’t get to feel, the high collapsing in on itself. you cry out, the sound cracked and raw as your hips jerk uselessly against the air. 

“aww,” he drawls in a mocking tone. “was that it? that tiny little spasm?” he tuts, wiping his fingers off on your inner thigh. “poor baby. can’t even cum right without my help.”

☆ track #4: kakucho hitto 　— feat. marathon sex

kakucho doesn't stop at one. 

you always knew he had stamina— you saw it in the way he worked out, the way he fought, the way he carried himself like he was a man with something to prove. but you hadn't expected this.

you hadn't expected to be folded beneath him, tears streaming down your cheeks as he forces yet another orgasm out of your spent body. 

you've lost count how many times you've cum— on his fingers, on his tongue, on his cock. your pussy is swollen and overstimulated, so full of his cum that it’s dripping onto the sheets in thick, wet smears. it clings to your thighs, your skin sticky with the proof of how thoroughly he’s taken you.

even now, after pumping you full only a few seconds ago, you can feel him start to harden again. his cock swells where it rests deep, twitching like it’s got a mind of its own, like his body refuses to give you a break even if his heart might want to. 

your breath stutters, and your nails sink into his shoulders. 

“cho…” your voice breaks around the plea, but he’s already shushing you, his lips pressed to your temple, large hands gentle on your hips. it completely contradicts the restless throb inside you— needy and insistent, already pushing forward. 

“i know, sweet girl,” he murmurs. “i know you’re tired. but you’ve still got more in you, don’t you? you can give me another.” 

his hips begin to move again, slow and steady. every stroke makes you feel like you’re being split open anew, like your pussy is still learning how to take him despite the way it clings to his cock.

his fingers find your clit again, rubbing soft circles over the puffy little bud. it makes you choke on a sob, the wrecked sound catching in your throat— but he keeps going. keeps touching you until you’re cumming again.

your body convulses as shudders rip through your limbs. you shatter around him, gasping out as another orgasm crashes through you— deeper this time, devastating in its intensity. your muscles seize. your vision blurs. tears streak hot down your cheeks as your pussy clamps down, milking him hard. 

kakucho hisses, a muscle in his jaw feathering. his abdomen flexes as your walls milk him dry, but even then— even after all of that, he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t even slow down.

“fuck, that’s it,” he groans in your ear. “just like that, baby. you’re doing so good. gimme one more, yeah? just one more.”

☆ track #5: wakasa imaushi 　— feat. shotgunning

wakasa tastes like salt and smoke and sin.

he’s sprawled out against the headboard, legs spread wide, a joint perched lazily between his fingers burning slow and sweet. the scent of bud is rich in the air, and the cherry glows with every pull, casting a shadows and a faint amber light across his features. 

he exhales slowly, like he’s savoring both the high and the sight of you— plump lips stretched tight around the swollen head of his cock, your eyes beginning to glaze over.

“shit,” he murmurs, his voice thick as smoke curling from his lips. he tips his head back. “you’re too good at that.”

you hum around him in response, and the vibrations make him twitch. his hand finds the back of your head, not to control or guide you, but just to feel. feel the weight of you kneeling between his thighs, the heat of your mouth wrapped around him, the wet suction that makes his jaw slacken.

he takes another hit, dark lashes fluttering, then taps your chin with two fingers. “open up f’me.”

you pull off of him with a loud pop, your lips glossy with spit and your breath already short. you look cock drunk already, and wakasa leans forward, the joint pinched between his fingers as he captures your mouth, exhaling the smoke directly between your lips.

you inhale without thinking, your lungs filling with his secondhand high. it tastes like him. like warm sugar and burnt leaves. your tongue flicks across his lip, and he groans against your mouth, his fingers flexing in your hair.

the high washes over you all at once— like static in your brain— and by the time he pulls away, your pupils are blown wide, your eyes rimmed with red.

“there you go,” he whispers, brushing your cheek with his thumb, admiring the dazed tilt of your head. “pretty girl gettin’ high off me in more ways than one.”

you sink back down between his thighs without a word, your lips parting again. you take him in slow, and he lets you— watching with hooded eyes, his head lolled to the side.

“mmm,” he hums, “this just might be my new favorite way to hotbox a room.”

༝ KAKUCHO

despite being one of bonten’s strongest executives, kakucho unbelievably gentle with you. when passing you something, his fingers barely brush yours. if you’re exhausted, he’ll quietly take the heavier boxes from your arms without asking. if you fall asleep at your desk, he’ll drape his own coat over your shoulders before returning to work.

everyone else is intimidated by kakucho’s expression, but you’ve never seen him lose his patience with you. even if you accidentally interrupt an important meeting or make a mistake with paperwork, he’ll calmly help you fix it instead of raising his voice. he thinks you bring out the softest parts of him that almost nobody else gets to see.

he hates physical affection from almost everyone, but he’ll never move away if it’s you. if you lightly tug his sleeve to get his attention or accidentally lean against his shoulder while looking over documents, his body completely freezes. he won’t react outwardly, but his ears slowly turn red before he quietly looks away.

he is painfully aware of every man that looks at you. he won’t act jealous or possessive in front of you, but the moment someone lingers a little too long or gets a little too comfortable, they’ll find kakucho silently watching them from across the room. one look is usually enough to convince them to keep their distance.

he pretends your safety is only part of the job, but everyone can tell he’s far more protective than necessary. he’ll walk behind you whenever you leave headquarters, wait until you’re inside your apartment before driving away, and quietly check every room if you’re working late at one of bonten’s properties. he never tells you he’s doing it because he cares.

he keeps every little thing you’ve ever given him, even if it wasn’t meant to be meaningful. a sticky note reminding him about a meeting stays tucked inside his wallet for months. a pen you handed him never leaves his suit pocket. he tells himself he’s only keeping them because they’re useful, but he knows that’s a lie.

he always ends up wherever you are. you’re heading to the archives? he suddenly has paperwork there. grabbing coffee? he was “already walking this way.” leaving headquarters late? he just happened to finish work at the exact same time. he makes every coincidence look completely natural.

whenever you’re speaking during meetings, kakucho stops paying attention to everyone else. he isn’t even trying to stare, but his eyes always drift back to you. he catches himself doing it constantly and immediately looks away, hoping nobody noticed.

his phone is almost empty except for one thing: your contact. he doesn’t have a picture for anyone else, but yours is the first thing he sees every time you call. he’ll never admit how often he catches himself opening your conversation just to reread old messages.

kakucho has a habit of standing just close enough to make sure nobody bothers you. if someone starts raising their voice at you during work, he appears on your side out of the blue. he doesn’t threaten them unless absolutely necessary. he just stands beside you with that intimidating expression until the man leaves.

kakucho has an almost unhealthy habit of checking whether you’ve arrived safely. if you’re running late, he’ll glance toward the entrance every few minutes while pretending to read documents. the second you walk in, the tension disappears from his shoulders like nothing ever happened.

kakucho isn’t good with words, so every act of care is silent. your chair is pulled out before you sit. the office thermostat is adjusted because he noticed you looked cold yesterday. your computer is already turned on when you arrive.

sometimes he catches himself wondering what you’re doing when you’re off work, then immediately scolds himself for thinking about you so much. it never helps. somehow his thoughts always circle back to you before the day is over.

kakucho has never wanted anything for himself the way he wants you. it frustrates him more than anything because he prides himself on discipline, yet every thought eventually finds its way back to you. he hates how easily you occupy his mind, and he hates even more that he doesn’t actually want it to stop.

hearing you laugh from another room is enough to make him pause whatever he’s doing. he tells himself he’s only making sure everything is alright, but his feet always carry him a little closer until he can hear you clearly. once he knows you’re smiling, he leaves before you ever notice he was there.

he constantly has to stop himself from reaching for you. fixing the strand of hair that falls into your face, brushing dust from your shoulder, steadying you whenever you stumble over absolutely nothing. his hand always twitches first before he quietly curls it into a fist at his side.

every time you thank him, he has to look away. your voice is soft, your smile genuine, and he doesn’t trust himself to meet your eyes for too long without giving everything away. a simple “you’re welcome” is all he manages before pretending something else suddenly needs his attention.

there are nights when headquarters is empty except for the two of you. you sit across from each other finishing paperwork in comfortable silence, and kakucho secretly wishes time would stop right there. you’re close enough for him to hear you breathe.

he knows your schedule better than his own. when you take your lunch break, when your meetings usually end, what days leave you the most exhausted. sometimes he catches himself planning his entire day around moments he might run into you.

he never asks you to stay longer than necessary, even when he desperately wants another five minutes of your company. instead, he’ll quietly tell you to go home and get some rest, then watch you leave until the elevator doors close. only after you’re gone does the building feel strangely empty.

whenever you’re standing close enough for your shoulders to almost touch, he becomes painfully aware of the tiny distance between you. it’s barely anything at all, yet it feels impossible to ignore. he could close that gap in a single step, but he never does.

he wonders what it would be like to hear you say his name outside of work. not “boss,” not “sir,” not spoken during meetings or reports. just his name, casually, warmly, like he belongs somewhere in your life beyond business. the thought stays with him longer than he’d ever admit.

sometimes he’ll catch you smiling at him for no particular reason, and it completely ruins the rest of his day. now he can’t stop thinking about it. hours later he’ll still remember the exact way your eyes softened when you looked at him.

he has convinced himself that loving you quietly is safer than risking losing the place he already has in your life. so he settles for being the person who makes your work easier, carries the heavy things, walks you to your car, and silently hopes that’s enough to keep him close to you a little longer.

every goodbye feels heavier than it should. he’ll give you a small nod, tell you to get home safely, then stand by the window without realizing it until your car disappears from view. only then does he finally leave himself.

kakucho falls hard and silently. he convinces himself you’ll never return his feelings because someone like him has no place beside someone like you. so he settles for watching over you from a distance, protecting you without expecting anything back. as long as you’re smiling, he’ll carry those feelings in silence for as long as he has to.

༝ MIKEY

mikey tells himself you’re simply efficient, that’s all. that’s why he wants you nearby. that’s why the office feels strangely empty whenever you’re off work. that’s why he catches himself glancing toward the door every few minutes, waiting for you to walk in. he repeats the excuse so often he almost believes it.

you see the side of mikey that almost nobody else gets: the one who is exhausted. bonten mikey carries himself like someone who stopped expecting happiness a long time ago, but your presence reminds him of a version of himself he thought disappeared. he doesn’t become a completely different person, but the emptiness in him becomes less obvious when he’s around someone he genuinely trusts.

if someone speaks to you with even the slightest disrespect, the room changes instantly. mikey doesn’t raise his voice or make a scene. he simply looks at them, expression completely blank, and calmly tells them to apologize. nobody ever refuses.

the executives eventually realize the only person who can interrupt mikey without consequences is you. you’ll knock once, step inside with another stack of reports, and he’ll quietly motion for you to come in without even looking annoyed. everyone else would have been told to leave.

mikey has convinced himself that you’re safest where he can see you. that’s why your desk is just outside his office. that’s why he insists you’re the one accompanying him to certain meetings. it’s practical, he tells himself.

mikey hates seeing you scared, but he hates even more knowing someone was the reason behind it. the moment he notices your discomfort, his entire attention shifts. he stops caring about whatever meeting or problem was in front of him because, in that moment, nothing matters more than figuring out what happened.

mikey isn’t affectionate, but he constantly finds excuses to keep you close. asking you to stay while he finishes reading a report, requesting your opinion on things that don’t actually require one, handing you files one at a time instead of all at once. every extra minute with you feels selfish, yet he can’t seem to stop.

he doesn’t ask “are you okay?” the way other people do. he simply looks at you and says, “who did it?” his voice is quiet, almost emotionless, because he’s already trying to understand exactly what needs to be handled.

sometimes he reaches out without thinking. his hand moves slightly toward yours when you place a document on his desk, like he’s searching for some kind of reassurance, but he stops himself before making contact. then he pulls back and pretends he was only reaching for the papers.

he doesn’t understand why you treat him like a person instead of a title. everyone else sees bonten’s leader, someone dangerous, someone they have to obey. but you still ask if he slept, if he’s eaten, if he’s okay. those simple questions stay with him much longer than they should.

when you smile at him after seeing the worst parts of him, he looks away. he doesn’t know what to do with kindness that doesn’t come with fear or expectation. part of him wants to believe he deserves it, but another part of him is still waiting for it to disappear.

he doesn’t want you to see him as a monster, but he also doesn’t know how to show you anything else. every time he tries to be closer, he pulls himself back. he thinks distance is the only way he knows how to protect people.

mikey never asks you about your personal life because he doesn’t know if he wants the answer. he can handle enemies, betrayal, and pressure without hesitation. but the thought of hearing that someone else makes you happier than he does is something he avoids facing.

when you finally fall asleep beside him after another late night of work, mikey almost reaches out to wake you, to tell you to go home and rest properly, but he stops. instead, he quietly places his coat over you and lets you sleep.

and when you eventually wake up and apologize for falling asleep, mikey only looks away and says, “it’s fine.” he doesn’t tell you that he spent the entire time watching over you, or that for a few hours, his mind was finally silent.

you’re one of the only people who sees how much mikey still craves simple happiness. sometimes he’ll sit beside you in complete silence, looking unusually peaceful, and then suddenly ask for something random like getting his favorite snack.

he has a habit of seeking your attention without admitting that’s what he’s doing. he’ll interrupt what you’re doing just to show you something, ask for your opinion on things he already decided on, or sit closer than necessary because he wants you to notice him.

mikey’s teasing side only comes out around you because he trusts you enough to drop the serious act. he’ll make little comments just to see your reaction, purposely annoy you because he likes when you get dramatic with him, and sometimes act completely innocent afterward even though you know exactly what he was doing.

when he’s tired, the walls around him disappear the most. you see him become quieter, more clingy, and almost like the younger version of himself he tries so hard to bury. he’ll lean into your presence without thinking and let himself relax.

mikey secretly loves when you take care of him in small ways. he’ll pretend he doesn’t need it, but he never pulls away when you remind him to eat, rest, or slow down. there’s something almost childlike about how easily he accepts your care, because with you he doesn’t feel like he has to prove he’s strong.

༝ KOKONOI

kokonoi is surprisingly dramatic when it comes to you, but only when nobody else is around. the same man who stays calm during negotiations will act personally offended if you ignore his messages for too long or if you choose someone else’s recommendation over his. he’ll pretend he doesn’t care, acting cold and sarcastic, but the silence afterward makes it painfully obvious he wants your attention.

you see how different kokonoi is when he’s not performing for the world. around others, he’s confident, charming, and always seems like he knows exactly what he’s doing. around you, he can be weirdly indecisive. he’ll ask for your opinion on something small, pretend your answer doesn’t matter, then immediately choose what you suggested.

kokonoi’s jealousy is less about anger and more about insecurity that he refuses to acknowledge. he knows he can buy almost anything, solve almost any problem, and get almost anything he wants, but affection doesn’t work like that. when someone else makes you laugh or gets your attention easily, there’s a brief moment where he remembers that money has never been able to guarantee the things he actually wants.

kokonoi is someone who hates appearing vulnerable, so the moments where he accidentally reveals too much mean everything. like when he casually mentions something from his past and then goes quiet because he realizes he actually told you. or when he lets you see him exhausted after a long day instead of putting on the usual confident mask.

he has a strange habit of trying to fix everything for you because he doesn’t always know how to comfort someone emotionally. if you’re upset, his first instinct is to find a solution, remove the problem, or make things easier for you. he has to learn that sometimes you don’t need him to solve everything - you just need him to stay, and he’s willing to learn that for you.

kokonoi’s favorite version of you is probably the one that treats him normally. not the person impressed by his reputation, not someone intimidated by his connections, but the person who steals his food, laughs at his expensive habits, and tells him when he’s being ridiculous. he secretly loves that you don’t let him hide behind everything he built.

as his assistant, you quickly realize kokonoi is much more observant than he lets on. he notices when you’re staying late, when you look tired, when you’ve been skipping breaks because you’re too busy handling his schedule. he’ll never directly say “i’m worried about you,” because that’s not how he communicates, but suddenly there’s food on your desk, your workload has become lighter, and your meetings have been rearranged so you actually have time to breathe.

kokonoi is incredibly demanding with you, but not because he thinks you’re incapable. he trusts you more than most people around him, which means he expects you to keep up with him. he’ll correct you, challenge your decisions, and push you to improve, but you notice he never humiliates you or treats you like you’re replaceable.

you notice that when someone else speaks, he’s usually impatient, already thinking three steps ahead. when you speak, he actually listens. he might still have that bored expression on his face, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s genuinely considering your opinion.

kokonoi has a habit of pretending he doesn’t rely on you. he’ll say things like “i could’ve handled this myself,” while handing you another task because he knows you’re the only person who can organize the chaos around him. he refuses to admit how much easier his life has become since you started working beside him.

he’s surprisingly annoying when he’s comfortable with you at work. he’ll call your name just to ask something he already knows the answer to, send you messages from across the room instead of speaking, or criticize your coffee choice like it’s a serious issue. if anyone else did it, he’d be unbearable, but with you it’s almost obvious he’s just looking for an excuse to interact with you.

kokonoi is very particular about your safety and position in the company. he doesn’t like other executives or employees taking advantage of you because you’re “just an assistant.” if someone dismisses you or talks over you, his entire attitude changes.

he notices your achievements more than anyone. kokonoi is surrounded by people who praise him because of his money and influence, so genuine effort stands out to him. when you do something well, he won’t give you some emotional speech, but you’ll get a rare “good job” from him, and coming from kokonoi, it means more than anyone else’s compliments.

sometimes you catch his softer side after everyone leaves. the office is finally quiet, his tie is loosened, and the confident persona fades slightly. those are the moments where he’ll actually talk to you about things unrelated to work, complain about his day, or ask your opinion on something personal.

he loves watching you get flustered, mostly because it’s one of the few times he feels like he has the upper hand. kokonoi is used to reading everyone before they even speak, but you’re the one person who can surprise him. he’ll casually lean back in his chair and make a teasing comment about how much you worry about him, only to act completely innocent when you tell him he’s being annoying.

he likes spoiling you, but he makes it sound like he’s just being practical. if you mention liking something once, he remembers it. if you complain about something being inconvenient, it somehow gets fixed. when you ask why he went through all that effort, he’ll shrug and say “I don’t like seeing you struggle."

he loves teasing you about how well you know him. if you predict what he’s going to say or bring him something before he asks, he’ll raise an eyebrow and say something like “you’re getting too good at this. should I be worried?” but secretly, he loves that there’s someone who understands him without him having to explain himself.

during meetings, kokonoi is completely professional, but you notice the little ways he includes you. he’ll ask for your opinion even when everyone else is waiting for his decision, glance at you when someone says something ridiculous because he knows you’ll understand his reaction, and sometimes hide a small smile when you try not to laugh.

he gets especially teasing when you’re trying to lecture him. if you tell him he’s working too much or needs to take care of himself, he’ll act offended and ask if his assistant is “giving him orders now.” but he never actually ignores you. in fact, you’re probably the only person in bonten who can tell him what to do and get away with it.

kokonoi’s romantic side appears in the quiet moments after work. when the building is empty and there’s no one around to impress, he becomes less like the untouchable businessman everyone knows. he’ll walk beside you, make jokes, complain about boring meetings, and enjoy the simple fact that someone is choosing to stay with him after seeing every side of him.