#kokonoi

Shinichiro Sano

He gives a sheepish smile like the question caught him off guard. “Can I fight? …I can hold my own.”

But then he glances at you, notices you’re uncomfortable, and his easygoing demeanor shifts, his gaze sharpens, and he subtly steps between you and the guy.

Shinichiro won’t brag, but he will make it clear the conversation’s over with a quiet, “Let’s not go there, alright?”

Izana Kurokawa

He doesn’t even blink.

He just tilts his head, looking the guy up and down with a faint smirk, “You’re asking the wrong question. What you should be asking is- can you?”

He’ll let that hang in the air like a loaded threat. If the guy dares to push back, Izana’s eyes go sharp and lethal, all calm façade gone.

Haruchiyo Akashi

Sanzu hears the question and just starts laughing, a low, unsettling laugh that goes on too long.

Then, still smiling like he’s in on a private joke, he steps forward, “Why don’t you find out? Could be fun.”

It’s not just about fighting for Sanzu, it’s about messing with the guy’s head until he regrets speaking to you at all.

Taiju Shiba

Before the guy can even finish the question, Taiju’s shadow is already falling over him, “You wanna say that again?”

He doesn’t have to yell, the sheer weight of his voice and the way he towers over people does all the work.

The guy backs up? Good. Keeps talking? Taiju will gladly make it physical.

Ran Haitani

Ran grins like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all week, “Oh, that’s cute, I don’t fight. I win.”

His tone is lazy, but the way he casually leans closer is calculated, it’s intimidation dressed up in charm.

And if the guy doesn’t take the hint, Ran will happily escalate and prove his point.

Rindou Haitani

He doesn’t even bother answering right away, just stares at the guy, tilting his head slowly, letting the silence stretch until it’s uncomfortable, “…You really wanna find out?”

There’s no bravado, no raised voice, just that cold, matter-of-fact delivery that makes it clear he’s not bluffing.

Hajime Kokonoi

He scoffs and looks away like the question isn’t even worth answering, “Can I fight? …I don’t need to. But if I did, you wouldn’t be standing long enough to tell anyone about it.”

Koko’s more about control and intimidation than brawling, but if forced, he’ll fight dirty and finish it fast.

Seishu Inui

Inupi’s reaction is almost unnervingly calm, he meets the guy’s eyes and simply says, “Yeah. I can.”

No smirk, no raised voice, just a level tone that somehow makes it more intimidating because you know he means it.

And if the guy presses, Inupi won’t waste words, he’ll act.

✨Join The Taglist✨

Taglist: @qardasngan @jellibean420 @dia111lavillant

🏍️TokyoRev Masterlist🏍️ 🦇Return to the Batcave🦇

🌹 - Mikey

Mikey eats pussy like he’s trying to forget who he is. Silent, focused, and starving—like you’re the only thing grounding him in the moment. Silent, slow, and deliberate. He doesn’t say much—doesn’t need to. His eyes are heavy-lidded and unreadable as he works his tongue against you, calm and methodical like he’s trying to memorize the way you fall apart. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t stop. He’ll pin your hips with an iron grip, unmoving, because he hates when you squirm away. There’s something intimate and almost reverent in the way he does it—like he doesn’t think he deserves you, but he’s going to worship you anyway. You’ll come more than once. He won’t say a word. He’ll just rest his head on your thigh afterward, quiet and exhausted like he just pulled himself back from the edge.

🌹 - Sanzu

There’s nothing soft about the way Sanzu eats pussy—he doesn’t aim to please. He aims to ruin. It’s raw, relentless, and loud. He spits, licks, sucks with tongue and teeth, and doesn't care how wrecked you are. If you cry, he’ll smirk. If you moan too loud, he’ll cover your mouth with his hand and keep going, not missing a beat. He moans into you like he’s high off the taste (he probably is), and it only spurs him to go harder. He’s got one hand between your thighs, two fingers buried knuckle-deep, curling just right as his mouth drags over your clit with messy, desperate greed. He talks during it, voice wrecked and slurred “That’s it. Come on, give it to me. Fuck, you taste so good...” And when you're shaking, too sensitive to breathe, he'll look up with a bloodshot grin and ask if you're done—because he isn’t.

🌹 - Rindou

Rindou doesn’t look like much of a giver—until you’re spread out and he’s buried between your thighs, whining softly into your cunt like he’s hooked on the taste. He’s a little rough, a little impatient, but so fucking eager. He loves being used. Will bury his face in you and rut his hips into the mattress just from how good you sound. He’s so sloppy—spit, tongue, fingers curled inside you, like he needs all of it at once. He uses his fingers a lot—fast, deep, curling hard while his mouth sucks your clit like it owes him something. His voice is always a little shaky, like he’s overwhelmed but addicted. He’s the type to mutter “one more” five times in a row until you’re completely overstimulated, legs trembling, begging him to stop—and that’s when he finally pulls back and kisses your thigh, satisfied and wrecked.

🌹 - Ran

Ran treats oral like foreplay and domination all at once. He knows what he’s doing—knows how slow to go, how soft to make it before dragging you straight off the edge. He’ll press a kiss to your inner thigh, hold eye contact, and say something low like, “You gonna behave for me?” And then he devours you. He makes it obscene—spreads you open with two long fingers, kisses your clit, licks slow and lazy while making eye contact, like he’s savoring a glass of wine. And just when you think he’s done tormenting you, he dives in, tongue fucking you deep while his fingers rub circles until your legs are shaking. You’ll be ruined and wrecked—and he’ll wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and say, “You taste better than I remembered.”

🌹 - Kokonoi

Kokonoi eats you out like he's trying to forget everything else. Not like it’s a performance, not like he's showing off—like it’s the one place he can breathe. He moves slow at first, tongue soft, deliberate, hands gripping your thighs like he needs to keep you close or he’ll spiral. He doesn't talk much during it, but his eyes say everything—half-lidded, dark, focused like you're the only thing in the room that feels real. When you moan, he groans against you like he can feel it. When your hips buck, he tightens his grip, exhales a curse, and buries himself deeper like he's starving. His rhythm is steady, thoughtful—but there's this edge, like he’s trying to lose himself in you. Like he needs to. He doesn’t stop when you come. Just slows, softens, mouth dragging against you with quiet reverence until your body goes limp under his touch. Then he rests his head against your thigh, breathing you in. “You’re everything,” he’ll whisper, barely audible—like it slipped out by accident. And maybe it did. But he doesn’t take it back.

🌹 - Kakucho

Kakucho is controlled. Precise. He worships you with his mouth like he’s praying—slow licks, perfect pressure, like he memorized what makes you unravel. He looks up at you the whole time, watching every reaction, and if your breath hitches even a little, he doubles down. He doesn’t do anything halfway, and that includes getting on his knees for you. He’s focused—tongue slow and consistent, fingers curled just right, eyes locked on you to read every twitch of your body. He won’t stop until you come undone completely, until you’re gasping and crying his name, and then he’ll kiss your thighs with reverence like you’re something holy. He eats like he loves. With quiet devotion and no mercy.

🌹 - Takeomi

Takeomi eats you out like he’s got nothing to prove and everything to enjoy. He’s slow. Deep. Methodical. A veteran at this. It’s slow, almost maddening. He’s going to taste every inch of you, feel every twitch and moan. One hand on your thigh, the other lazily teasing between your folds until he’s sure you’re soaked. Then his mouth takes over—tongue firm and deliberate, sucking and rolling against your clit with practiced ease. He doesn’t say much, but when he does, it’s low and rough and just shy of mocking “Look at you, so fucking needy. You were talkin’ big a minute ago.” And when you come for him, he hums like it’s the best thing he’s tasted in years. Then he wipes his mouth, lights a cigarette, and tells you you’re not going anywhere—he’s not done yet.

It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment. 

All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.

And it was going to stay that way. 

By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~” 

“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms. 

Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received. 

Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–

Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?” 

“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran. 

“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?” 

“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.” 

“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager. 

The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.” 

Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.

Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.

“Oh, is the meeting over already?” 

Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.” 

You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.” 

“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”

ᥫ᭡. ~ mister kokonoi wasn’t the best option for a sugar daddy. he’s pockets deep in organized crime, possible with some blood on his hands and some whores on the side. though, it didn’t matter to you. not with you having a painfully thick skull that you couldn’t look past his sweet talk and bone colored hair, you were wrapped around that man’s finger in an invisible chokehold.

though, the money didn’t come immediately nor easily. that’d be too boring!

what’s a good baby without exploits of his own? he thought when it came to choosing you. luckily, he picked up the human embodiment of a small pup. little and stupid, yet blindly obedient. perfect. ♡

his first command? “refer to me as sir, and sir only. you hear?” he’d tell you the first night, watching you nod eagerly at this request. soon enough, he’d ask for more perverted terms. daddy, master, mister..it never failed to stroke his ego and get his dick hard in his dress pants.

or his dick in you. if you wanted something? depends on the material, you’ll be filled with his cum by the end of it regardless. holding an adorable bubblegum pink mini dress, one that’d show off your figure, you’d pout and put on your best teary eyes to an amused koko.

“daddyy?” you’d whine. “what’s on your mind, baby..” he’d sip on the champagne bubbling in his glass. “you want that dress? it’d look gorgeous on you.” a grin stretched on his lips when he sees you nod. “i don’t gotta ask. y’know what to do for it—“ he drags out his words in a sultry tone as small clinks! accompanied his words.

“fuck. keep goin’ baby, wanna mess ya up real good..” words that only made your cunt burn with need as koko stretched your throat out, making you gag on his length. “good boy—y’know what good boys get? hm..?” he asked, yanking you off his dick by the back of your head. you couldn’t answer his question, he knew that. dazed and cock drunk with drool and precum soaking your chin, only his leaking tip touching your lips.

“good boys get their wishes.”

a phrase burned into your cock riddled noggin’. was he wrong? of course not. it was as simple as give and take, regardless of the item, he’ll have you one way or another. it never mattered how or even where. though, he would grow quite fond of the idea of fucking in public.

his favorite? having you pressed against the walls of the changing room, nothing but the luxurious heels he bought you last week being the only thing on as he pumped your pussy full for the whole damn store to hear. it’s not like you were quite either, whining and moaning your pretty lungs out, not thinking about the poor customer next door.

koko didn’t stop you though, why would he? hell, why would you? not with those pretty dior perfumes and designer dresses on the line!

“ack! daddyy!—aah!” yelps tore out of you as koko juts his hips against the plush of your ass, abusing your poor cervix. you didn’t even know his dick could reach that far. “i-it’s too much..! i can’ttt!” you only quit your whining when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back until he’s able to stare into your puffy eyes. nothing but carnal desire staring back at you.

“you want your fuckin’ things or not?” koko leaned into the shell of your ear, his threat digging itself into your cranium as if to give you a hint. “y-yes..i swear daddy! i swear!” tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you babbled on until he shoved your head back against the wall. “then shut up and take that shit f’me.” he grunted before slamming his hips even harder until you were practically bruised, cum dribbling down your legs as he spurted his seed deep into your ruined cunt.

“hgnn—noo..not inside me..!” you whined, before a sharp smack! punched a sob out of you. “mmm don’t care—‘s my pretty pussy to fuck.” koko practically bit a chuckle back as he watched you twitch and spasm uncontrollably, white spilling out until he felt satisfied enough with the mess he made. you’re mascara ruined, face hot with tears still streaming down your cheeks and your legs shaking like a fawn learning to walk. a sight that reminds him why he chose you to be his pretty baby, his personal sissy boy to spoil into taking his cock whenever he damn well wants.

“daddy? can i get those perfumes now?”