#sashi-ya

Shanks eyes fix on yours; perhaps he knows something you still don’t know. Perhaps, he understands his brother might be right. Leaving you on that port some months ago, crying, feeling used, was something he didn’t want, but ended up doing.

“I must admit you have a great taste, brother. She is such a sweet treat” Shamrock purrs, having your waist surrounded by one of his arms, while his free one caresses your cheek. “Aren’t you?” he continues.

The emperor can’t stop himself; even if Shanks is rarely bothered by immature and stupid actions that are meant to tease him, this time it did actually enraged him.

Gryphon’s edge ends on Shamrocks neck, with you in between two man exhorting dominance and testosterone. Shanks sun bathed skin, with salty traces from the sea… Shamrock’s one, pale, clean, soft, used to the finest things…

“Stop!” you whine, pressed in between their chests. “Stop, please! Stop fighting over me!”

Shamrock laughs; he doesn’t seem disturbed by the burning blade against his carotid, and in fact he keeps adding fuel to the fire.

“You are scaring the lady, brother… do you think she is gonna prefer your brutal attempt to save her instead of being treated like a queen?” he smirks, pulling you against him more and more.

Shanks puts down the sword, slowly. He needs his hand free now, to touch your face, to lure you back at him.

“Should I save you then? Or should I let you choose in between him and I?” he whispers, using his fingers to lift your chin up.

The difference is notorious even though both have the same purpose; possess you. Shank’s calloused hands, versus, soft, never used hands… how to pick just one? If both are irresistibly desirable?

“I don’t wanna choose; I love you, but you left me alone… I don’t love your brother, but he gave me what you took from me” you murmur, perhaps already regretting your decision.

“Ah… then you want us both, don’t you?” Shamrock says, moving your head to look at him instead of his brother.

“You want us both, (Name)?” Shanks asks, this time forcing you to turn your head to him.

Both have their hands on your mandible now; cris crossed, their thumbs close to the commissures of your lips, and their hips plastered against your body. Both hard, both erect. Both desperate to assert dominance, to devour you like beasts, like a hungry dragon.

Oh, sweet prey you must bleed to death in between their jaws. And you are totally fine with that… “I want you both; I want you Shanks. I want you Shamrock-sama”

The tips of his similar swords already cut your clothes, tearing them to pieces, leaving them like rags scattered around you.

Nudity, delicious and tempting, served on a silver platter to them. Shaking, you receive their fangs on each side of your neck, carving marks on your flesh.

Shamrock’s fingers tangle in between your hair, pulling your head back, making your breasts bounce.

The Figarland brothers’ lips abandon your collarbones to kiss your nipples; each attack one; sucking or biting. The difference on stimuli you loudly whine, with legs trembling and slowly failing you to keep standing up.

“Don’t fall, come here” Shamrock lifts you up from your waist, pretty much ripping you from Shanks’ mouth. You get seated on a rocky bed, somehow like a sacrifice altar. Elbaph castles all look the same.

Shanks grunts, watching his brother walk around the cold cot as you lay on your back. And, immediately after, he crawls in between your legs.

The pirate pleasantly finds out you are dripping wet, something he knows very well about you.

“Go first if you wish; as an act of kindness, I’ll let you have her first” the knight spits, acting as if he is the only one commanding. “I’m gonna have her warm mouth around me, anyway”

You gasp, as they both look with pure hatred into each other’s eyes. Yet, the moment breaks as you are given little pats and slaps to look to the side; as Shamrock just said, he wishes your mouth surrounding his sex first.

“Open, baby” he orders, softly. And you do, sticking your tongue out while you wait for his hardness to go deep into your throat.

His white pants don’t even need to go fully down; he is not even bothered to do it; his sex out will be enough. Drippy and delicious, it lands on your tongue. You receive it, pleased.

And as he begins to pump in and out your mouth, you begin moaning and choking.

“Such a slut…” Shanks whispers, looking at your oral spectacle, at the way the corner of your eyes fill with tears as you gag with his brother’s dick.

And, while he thought he cared about your body being used by someone so close but still so different from him, the idea of you being exactly used is what got him harder than ever.

“Now let’s see if your cunt can still handle me” the Yonkou grunts, dragging his palm up and down your sex, getting it coated with your juices. From your perineum to your clit, fast, enjoying the humid feeling of more and more wetness, forcing your legs open as they tend to close in response.

Shanks changes his palm for his two fingers, gladly anticipating the way your walls will clench around his dick when he finally buries deep inside you.

Shamrock laughs while using your face as a fuck hole; a tight grip on your hair to move your head, to make it bob, like you didn’t matter, like you were just made to please his “holly” dick.

“Keep your legs open, little slut” Shanks orders, going faster and harder, masturbating and getting your insides ready for his upcoming intrusion.

And just before you could burst, the redhaired stops the fingering. Maybe to punish you, or maybe just because he can’t wait no more. He needs to replace his fingers for his rock-hard shaft. It has started to hurt from the desire, from the desperation to fuck you.

That desperation, leads the pirate to slide his dick deep inside you without a warning, without any delicacy or love. Just pure madness, making your insides revolve and your body retort.

“Wow, easy brother…” Shamrocks grunts, forcing your mouth to keep surrounding his shaft. “You are gonna break her” he continues, laughing as if he wasn’t doing the same.

“Shut up” Shanks grunts back, going harder, using his arm around your waist to keep you from shaking, manhandling you for his own pleasure. “Keep fucking her, use her, it’s all she wants… slut”

In any other situation you would have feel yourself sad or insulted, but Shanks is right… all you want now is to be used, fucked by them…

“Then, let me fill her whole too” “Now you are asking for permission?” “Come on… you know me, I still have some codes”

Shanks scoffs; stopping his hips from punishing you with brutal rams, he lays flat on his back.

“Come here, ride me and get ready… slut” the pirate commands, allowing you to crawl and straddle your hips on his lap. You let your shaky body to fall on his sex, feeling all the length reaching deeper than ever. “Good girl…”

You start riding him, while Shamrock’s presence quickly surrounds you from behind. He kneels and pushes you from your back to fall a little on Shanks chest. “I’m sure your cunt can handle the Figarland pride just as well” Shamrock whispers on your ear, tickling your shoulder with his long hair, letting his tip slowly slide your already occupied entrance.

It takes barely seconds for both to be finally penetrating you, and also for them to start fucking you at unison. Your hips lost the war, and now it’s theirs that move.

“That’s good slut, that’s very good… you can take us both so well…” “Let us fill you up until you can’t keep it inside…”

“Is he/she ok? Something’s hurting? No fever, right?” Byakuya asks; he is and will always be extremely afraid of you or his baby being sick. 

“Probably just hungry. Go back to sleep, love. I’ll feed him/her” 

But he is not just a man; Byakuya is a gentleman. And despite not being able to bare nor give birth to his son/daughter, he will be next to you no matter what. How could he sleep knowing you aren’t? 

“Come on… let’s get comfortable” he commands, kissing your head and grazing his baby’s crying face. 

You walk -drag your body- to the bed and wait for Byakuya to sit with his back against the headrest. Then, you sit in between his legs, with your back against his chest. 

Byakuya’s soft hands hug you while he waits for you to prepare yourself to feed your child. Soon, the cries stop, as nurturing begins. 

Sleepiness still remains, but the moment that soon will turn to a memory… none of you would have chosen to let exhaustion take it away from you.

You look at him when your child is finally fast asleep; a soft smile, a silent complicity between the love of your life and you. 

He smiles back; a smile nobody is used to seeing but you and now the little “consequence” of your love.  

“You know, sometimes I’m jealous of him/her” Byakuya jokes; yet behind a joke there is always a little bit of truth. 

“Mhhj…” you giggle low. 

“Don’t laugh… It used to be me…” he continues, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Let me put him on his bed and I’ll feed you as well. There is no point in me going back to sleep, it’s almost morning” you joke, even though Byakuya took it pretty seriously… 

He helps you with utmost care and delicacy not to wake the baby up to stand up. You blow a kiss his way before dragging back to the baby’s nursery -a couple of steps from your room, but still outside it-. 

As you walk back, you notice him pretty much awake… in more than one way. 

“Still awake?” you ask, ignoring his very noticeable hardness through the fine silk of his sleeping yukata. 

“Well yes, didn’t you tell me you were gonna feed me?” he asks, leaving you startled. Suddenly, sleepiness eased as fast as his did. 

You open your mouth and close it back. You were about to laugh; but was him being funny or was that for real? 

Indeed, Byakuya rarely jokes… and that sounded absolutely serious. 

“You- you really want to- uh- this?” you ask, pointing at your -very- swollen breasts. If there was something that wasn’t hard for you, was to produce enough and even more nourishment for your offspring. 

“Well, considering is pretty common in our culture…” he tries to convince you. 

You giggle; there was no need for you to be convinced. You would give him anything he could asked for, after all. 

“Then, my sweet big baby… feast on it” you whisper, getting into bed right next to his horny self. 

Byakuya and you giggle sweetly, both covering your whole bodies with your silk sheets. Enough has happened in between the both of you for shame and formalities. 

It is Byakuya who willingly gets comfortable on your legs; his back on your lap, while your fingers brush through his beautiful hair back. 

Lust and intimacy have transcended; his skilful hands free your breasts from your nightgown. The sakura man enjoys the effects of gravity on them, as they heavily fall close to his lips. 

“I wonder if it’s as sweet as your core” he purrs. 

Your insides become a mess; tensing muscles on your womanhood, oh the gracious changes of your body he adores… he praises… what a blessing is to have a man like him to venerate you. 

You help him reach your nipple; it gets hard, and it begins to drip. And you suddenly understand the difference, nurturing your child has nothing to do with this; two different types of bonding, you are so willing to enjoy. 

Byakuya sticks his tongue out, allowing the very few drops of semi white elixir to fall on it. He takes some time to enjoy the taste, like a fine wine, like a delicatessen a noble deserves. 

“More” he demands.

You smile pleased; impulsive shameless and whimsical Byakuya only comes out when he is either truly free or unable to control himself; and right now, he is both. 

Your hand passes under his nape, lifting, with so much expertise, his head for his lips to finally trap your nipple. 

A little clumsy, he first tries nibbling on it, making you jolt. It hurts, but it feels so good. Yet, it is definitely not enough to start the flow of motherly product happening. 

“Suck; try pressing your tongue against your palate as you suck” you guide him; it is much easier to explain this to an adult it kinda makes you giggle. 

“Uhhumh” he hums, taking notes of your instructions. And with a couple of tries, he finally manages to make it happen. 

“Good boy” you compliment him; for the first time, you discover the joy of being the one in charge, of being the dominant one. 

Deep blue eyes open big, fixing on yours. They both show a certain amount of shame… because your “mommy” attitude has made him harder than ever before. It feels to Byakuya both incredibly hot but also degrading… and that, at the same time, becomes feedback for more and more lust. 

His hips, on his own, buck up ever so slightly. Yet, enough for you to notice.  Ah, he needs relief… 

 You use one of your hands to guide your right breast more and more into his mouth, as he sucks harder. While your left hand slowly slides from his belly to his sex. 

Byakuya spasms violently when your palm reaches his already wet crotch area. You are not surprised; this man gets so hard sometimes that it kinda scares you he might explode at any moment. 

“Would you like mommy to help you with this?” you ask, amazed by those naughty words that make you even wetter. 

“ngh… mhg… yes-“ he barely words, with his mouth full of your milk, overflowing from the commissure of his lips. 

You bite your lower lip; if this isn’t the epitome of arousal, you don’t know what it is. 

It takes nothing for his yukata to finally slide open, uncovering a hard manhood that has already impregnated you with all of his masculinity before. 

You begin to pump; jerking him off with no mercy, making him tremble, making him choke with the white liquid coming from you. 

A little bit more, he is close… so close. more, more, more.  Precum flowing from his gland as milk flows from your breasts. 

White sometimes associated with purity, is now being depicted as total concupiscence and erotism, in the middle of a night that slowly becomes a dawn. 

And like the Sun, unstoppably rising every morning, Byakuya’s climax hit his body like the strongest Bankai… 

Spasms that accompany every sprout of cum abandoning his body and into his belly; Spasms that you somehow experience as well, as all of the sucking and such imagery has made you incredibly hot to the point of also cuming. 

“Byakuya, love… save a little bit for your son/daughter, yes?” “Just a little bit more for breakfast, my love…” 

He turns me and let my back hit a mattress that I won’t dare to change ever again in my mortal life; I bounce, and I’m delighted with the view above me. His hair, falls like a dark silk on each side of his face, over broad shoulders I love to bite.

My wrists, trapped by delicate hands; squeezed by dominant nobility. The tip of his nose buries into the crook of my neck, inhaling the scent of my skin. I wonder what it is that he likes so much? Is it the smell of my perfume? Or the sex mist that he has already imbued into my flesh?

My toes curl; Byakuya likes to bite. He leaves marks, right there and all over.

“You are my property” he whispers into my ear.

Why are you stating something I already know? Infatuated with a mortal, selfish captain, breaking rules once again?

“Show them, show them your skin when I’m not here” he continues, sucking to bring all the blood towards the surface of my skin. It makes me tremble; it makes me try to reach out to him to carve my nails into his pale flesh. Even though he has me pinned with a measured strength; I can’t compete; I will never be strong like him.

“I proudly show these marks…” I answer back, curving my back as his teeth clamp to my right breast. “I am yours, Byakuya-sama…” I continue, while my frown turns into raptured façade and my body falls into the depths of fevered cravings.

He grunts, pleased. No matter how honourable he might be, how big his heart can be, Byakuya is still the son that was born under a lucky star. Nothing costs him, everything can be obtained, everything can be his if he wants it to. And I… I am not different from yet another possession.

“Although… you are not mine” I dare to add, gaining his deep midnight eyes to be fixed into mine. Sharp eyebrows; dishevelled hair, offended stare.

Byakuya lets go of my chest, but never my wrists. He turns me around, hitting my belly against the bed with no shame, with no delicacy. Mad, panting… what I’ve just said seemed to be an insult to him.

His hands move my hair off my back. His index traces a straight line from my nape down the small of my back. He carves his index right there, maybe a little too deep.

“What is this?” he asks a question he already knows. “The Kuchiki clan tattoo…” I mutter; my speech muffled by my own cheek squeezed against the mattress. “And do you think anyone can have this inked into his skin?” he asks, again.

I deny, confused… “Only the people that belong to you” what’s the point of this? why are you asking something we both know already; I am your property, and property shouldn’t be asking stupid questions.

The noble grunts, mad. He keeps grabbing my wrists, but this time with just one hand. The freed one, sneaks underneath my stomach, pulling my hips up and a little backwards. The back of my thighs hit with his legs; I can feel the weight of his body right on top of my body. I struggle breathing; he is lean, but muscles are heavier than fat and my body is exhausted.

I can feel his imperative desire to penetrate; even perhaps to violate. Not that I don’t want him to, in fact, I’d pleased accept endless thrusts. And he is well aware of my desires.

Byakuya’s warm breathe reaches my right ear; his hand has let go of my arms, this time traveling towards the base of my mandible. My cheeks, squeezed in between the bed and his face. My mouth open just enough to wet the sheets underneath like a rabid animal.

Silky lips, pouty from desire, reach the lobe of my ear. Deep, grunting, filled with dominance and impaired judgment, he lets me know how wrong I am.

“You dare to compare yourself to a simple acquisition, (Name)? You, who burnt your skin with my blood mark, are by far more than a simple possession…” those words that came after impalement, were enough to make me tremble… but his sex, ramming so hard into me, made me the weakest human ever existing right there and from all the realms of the universe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“I am, as you are mine, yours” And it was true; but he wasn’t just mine. He never told me, but I always knew…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ …

ㅤ “Sakura man, even if ephemeral, stay for as long as you can” ㅤㅤㅤ “I should come back soon; life and dead shouldn’t be mixed…”

The sound of chariots and a subtle bustling outside catches your attention; you watch several men entering the dance house from your window. All of them are dressed like they are indeed very wealthy people. 

You only know them as a part of history, since they don’t live in your lands, but rather far, far away. You also know their clan leader became a widower a few years ago yet still know nothing about his appearance nor any characteristic. 

 The drums begin to play, soft music comes from the dining room area, they must be filling their never hungry bellies with the finest delicacies your chefs are able to prepare. 

You also prepare to be devoured by their lustful eyes; you are used to; men, no matter their social class, are all the same. Right? 

“The clan leader will be here as well, try to please him… even if they say it is pretty difficult to do so…” one of the backup dancers whispers. Maybe she is trying to cheer you up, or maybe she is trying to put more pressure on you. 

You nod, sighing. Your hips will do the best they can to follow the musicians; you are sure that “old geezer with lots of money” will enjoy the show. 

The lights begin to dime; the music to slowly growth in rhythm, and the darbuka to peal. Your body drags towards the scenario, with the motions of a cobra; sexy as a deadly snake, ready to imbue their bloods with the passionate venom of a lustful dance. 

You cover your face from your nose down, letting your irises scan the faces of each man watching you dance. Old guys, some wearing metallic hair accessories, and white coats. 

Old guys, and a young one. From them all, he is the one whose eyes seem to be drunk in superiority and arrogance. 

“He must be the youngest of them all, perhaps one day he will become the leader…” you think. “He is probably the grandson of the leader; that guy with a moustache looks like an old version of him”

In any case, you don’t care; you just need to dance. Your muscles move with the beats of the drums, your hips accompany you well, your belly like sea waves show the great expertise and why you are called “the best dancer”. 

And you can tell they are indeed enjoying it by the looks of hunger and drooling dressed up as smirks. They drink while they watch you own the wooden floor with your naked feet. The anklets jingle to their movement, as well as the hip belt. 

You can see every single man smirking, pleased with your performance. Every single but the youngest of them. He hasn’t smiled once, yet his eyes were unable to divert from your body. He seems to analyze, to mentally record every motion, every dance move you make. 

You still have the grand finale, the sexiest dance of them all; the one where you get down the scenario and dance closer to them… so close, that, as much as you wish to, they can interact with you. 

But the one who is interacting tonight, will be you. You, for some strange reason, feel the desperate need to rip a smirk from that youngster… from that handsome man.

You take some air before the last dance; slowly, slowly the music goes as slow it could go while you get down from the scenario. 

Every man tenses, interested. They think you are dancing for them, but you are certainly not. Him, the one exuding haughtiness, has become the main target. The scarf around his neck will be especially useful for the grand finale. 

You slither his way, shaking your hips closer and closer. So close the tip of his nose can almost touch your stomach. 

That man won’t move; the more you dance next to him his eyes only focus on one single thing; your eyes. It’s almost intimidating; such serious frown, with night-coloured sharp eyes burning holes into your orbs.

But you won't let him win, you aren’t done just yet. Sexily and slowly, you snatch the scarf around his neck, entangling all your body with it as you pull. His long onyx hair graces the back of your hand… how silky… 

His frown changes; his expression is now a little more on the insulted side. On perhaps, the “how dare you touch me?” side. 

You giggle underneath the expensive silk you just stole from him; it smells so good, clean but still with a hint of manly bodily scent. You can tell he’s been sweating. Has he been feeling hot? 

You turn your back to him, the lights filtering through your figure and in between the tiny pores of his scarf while flowing in the air. 

Byakuya’s lips separate just a little; a tiny gasp comes right after. The beauty of the moment, just like a living piece of art, seems to blow his mind… she is alluring. 

Your movements are like liquid gold, each step precise and deliberate, yet flowing with a natural grace that captivates every onlooker. The room is silent, save for the rhythm of the drums, guiding you every motion.

As you spin, the scarf dances along like a serpentine companion. You can sense the weight of your target’s gaze, intense and unyielding. Yet, you don’t mind, it only fuels your show; you want to see him break, to see the facade of indifference crack under the pressure of your enchanting hips. 

With a final flourish, the scarf gets thrown in the air, falling on you like a veil, running down your skin. It slips, as if, that fine silk yearned to kiss all of your flesh. 

You bow, stepping back right after, surrounded by the stolen stole. Your eyes are still locked with his, challenge him; invite him. 

Byakuya remains still, but there's a flicker in his eyes, a spark of something raw and unrestrained.

You know, deep inside, you’ve won. You’ve struck a chord. Now, the performance was really a success. 

You offer a sweet smile before turning away, leaving that man with the echo of your dance, the memory of your delicate touch, and without his scarf. Perhaps, like a trap, you use it as a bait… come and get it by yourself, Mr. arrogant. 

You run to your room, flopping down your bed. Still covered by that scarf, you take a couple of seconds to inhale the perfume before it gets taken away. Because you know, you can feel him getting closer… his aura; is he a Shinigami? 

The knock on the door, announces some minutes after, he is indeed there to claim what’s his. And maybe, all of the rest as well… including you. 

“The scarf” he simply says, standing right by the entrance as you open the door. He seems, once again, filled with conceit and disgust towards anyone but him. 

“Would you like me to clean it, sir? You see, we always try to interact with the publ-“ you want to keep on explaining something he doesn’t really care about, getting interrupted by his gloved hand lifted slowly in the air. 

“And what would you know about cleaning such expensive fabrics?” he asks, visibly more annoyed than before. Even if his cheeks were becoming slowly pink the more he looks at you. 

You smirk; you might be wealthy, but not -yet- my owner. 

“You are most definitely right, Sir… uh, what’s your name? I’m not a cleaning lady; I am a dancer. The best from my region” you answer back, tinting your speech in at least a small amount of his arrogance. 

His eyes squint, his frown intensifies; is this some kind of disrespect crusade towards him, the Kuchiki clan leader? 

“You don’t know my name? haven’t you ever heard of Kuchiki Byakuya? you really don’t know who you stole that scarf from? Weren’t you informed of who was coming here tonight?” he asks, coming closer to you in a menacing, powerful way, but still calm and collected. It seems to you as if he were fighting to keep his real self, tamed. 

You blink, looking up at him, taking small steps backwards. 

“The Kuchiki clan leader and family” you murmur.

“And who do you think the clan leader is? Mh? Why don’t you guess?” he asks, grabbing the scarf in between his index and middle finger. 

You swallow; why is he getting this mad? 

“I… I don’t know, Sir… I- that man, the old man with a moustache? I know the clan leader became a widower some years ago, so it must be him? You look similar to that man, so I’d say that’s your father or your grandfather” you let him know. 

Byakuya does a little head shake, confused. 

“That’s indeed my grandfather, and yes, he WAS the leader. Now, I AM the clan leader; I am the widower…” he corrects you. 

You gasp; a widower at such a young age? No wonder why he seems so embittered. 

“I am sorry, Kuchiki-sama” you immediately change the way you refer to him. “Can I compensate you with a special, unique, private dance?” you continue, offering him something to cheer him up -and maybe, like Sherezade, a reason to distract him from wanting to kill you-

Byakuya lets the scarf go; he has been holding a pinch of it in between his fingers but never once tried to pull it away from you. He thinks; and while he does he looks at you from above and slightly to the side… ah, what an annoying -ethereal and beautiful- creature.  

The noble, whose eyes show the desperate need to say yes, takes his sweet time to cover up his real desires. Yet, ultimately, he says yes to your proposal. It didn’t take much for him to accept, as your eyes became almost a hypnotic instrument to control that man. 

“Sit down, please” you command, turning him around, feeling the electricity on the palms while you touch his arms. 

Byakuya, impassible, sits down in your bed and crosses his legs; a clear sign of his undeniable arousal that he might want to conceal… at least for now. 

An old music player from the world of the living, brought by a Shinigami that visited your lands a few years ago, starts playing one of your favourite songs; that song you use to dance alone, just to practice and to enjoy the musical notes flowing through your body like the blood in your veins.  [a/n: listen to the song here]

Your hips begin to move, up and down, to the beat of the drums. It starts slow, increasing the rhythm little by little when the rest of the instruments join the melody. 

With closed eyes at first, you don’t need to look at him while you dance; you can already tell he’s been bewitched by the sloughy flow of your flesh. 

To Byakuya it is more than sensual; it’s daring. You dare, you challenge him to break a self-imposed celibate, to enjoy the lust of watching a woman dancing for him, and only for him. 

So much he enjoys and gets lured to be a part of your sensual dance that his gloved hands reach for your body. His fingertips search for your skin in between the flowing scarf you dance with. 

You get closer and closer, allowing his hands to finally land on each side of your waist. The contrast of his cold palms with your warm hips makes you get little bumps all over. Though it is most probably because of the delicate and still dominant grab of a man so handsome. 

Unhurried, Byakuya pulls you closer to him, receiving you on his lap. 

You straddle your hips on his legs, with his scarf on your shoulders. Stretching your arms and back, moving side to side like an ophidian woman, you throw yourself backwards as his fingertips travel from your chest down to your belly. 

Oh, and how good this feels to him… you can feel his hardness growing, with the vengeance to penetrate, to impale. 

Byakuya can’t hold back a minute longer; his hands pass through your waist and serve as support for your back. He bends forward, kissing right where your sternum ends. And then up and down, leaving a trail of wet pecks on your skin. 

You reach his head, brushing back his beautiful dark hair. Smooth, soft, silky; you wish to witness it rain down his nude back. In fact, you wish him to be naked, desperately. 

And as desperately as you, that’s exactly what Byakuya wants; to have you naked in between his arms, onto that bed, laying your delicious anatomy back for him to devour. 

He turns you around, throwing you -now with less delicacy, forgetting maybe his noble status- back into the mattress. 

Byakuya crawls in between your legs, spreading them, looking so manly and dominant. His eyes have become sharper, imbued in lust and desire, only focused on one thing… ripping your beautiful dancing clothes off. 

Like claws, his hands pull down the semi-transparent top that only covers your breasts, exposing them. About to gloat, you can hear a manly grunt leave his silent lips. It makes you shiver; an aura of pure superiority forces you immediately to submission. 

The head clan lifts your leg up to his waist, passing his hand through the cut on your harem pants. 

“Is this included in the private dance?” he asks, with his lips grazing yours. You can tell he is about to break; the level of arousal in his voice, on the way he exhales so agitated… 

“This might need for you, Leader Kuchiki, to buy me” you whisper back, as agitated, as needy, and desperate as he is. 

Byakuya smirks; if there is something he can do is exactly that; buy you, acquire you. 

“I’ll pay anything” he answers before his lips crush with yours in such a concupiscent kiss it could scandalize the mere snake that tempted Eve in Paradise. 

Ah, and speaking of paradise, that’s exactly what awaits you from now on.    

Your nails carve on his neck, scratching his skin yearning for his clothes to finally slide down his body. You crave his nudity, as well as his sex deep inside your womb. 

Byakuya unties the sash around his waist; it all gets loose except his muscles and dick. You are now able to pull his fabrics down, exposing what you have already been imaging; a lean, pale, perfect and velvety bareness. 

You are so tempted to bite such precious flesh, but the weight of his hand getting around your neck stops you right away. 

The noble’s fingers curl and carve on your mandible, holding your face down, unable to move. You lay your head and hair on his scarf, giving you a frame worthy of  comparing you with “The Birth of Venus.” 

“You look so beautiful resting on my Ginpaku” Byakuya murmurs, who would have thought he could be romantic during the heat of the moment? 

You bite your lower lip and look to the side; it takes a lot for a man to make you flush and this one has made it possible. 

“Look at me…” he continues, forcing you to fix your sight on his, while his free hand works its way towards your panties. 

A tiny triangle covers your sex; a tiny triangle now dampened in arousal and sweat, exactly like Byakuya’s. He doesn’t care, in fact, all he wants is to take it off. 

He does, pulling them to the side to allow his index to slide right in. He moves in and out, so painfully slow, it drives you crazy. His thumb makes his big entrance then, when it lands on your clit. It traces circles, just to push you to hell and ascend to heaven right after. 

In reality, Byakuya is simply preparing your entrance, getting a little taste of what his sex will soon experience; the warmth of your insides, the spasming of your walls around his dick. All and everything at expenses of your pleasure, a perfect deal for a business man like him. 

“I’m in great need of fucking you, now” he grunts, after biting your right nipple. 

Your back arches; the way his beckoning fingers masturbate you, the way he nibbles on your breasts, the straightforward words coming from his delicious mouth… 

Shivering, you are only able to nod. Your legs quiver, soon climax will arrive; soon, very soon. 

You grasp from his black hakama, pulling them down completely the best you can, exposing an exquisite dripping hardness. Just like him, his sex is; impetuous, straight, even violent in a deadly sharp daintiness. 

Your harem pants get ripped as well, that man isn’t playing about being in “great need.” Your legs, get arranged by him to be resting on his chest; apparently Byakuya enjoys going deep from the very beginning. And who you are to contradict the Kuchiki clan head leader? 

With your ankles on each side of his face, and his long hair tickling on the bridge of your feet, Byakuya guides his sex into your overflowing sex. Both moan and close your eyes during that first slide that feels so good. 

You instinctively try to close your legs, but he won’t let you just yet. Byakuya’s body bends forward, going even deeper on each ram; are those hips made of what? How is he able to fuck you this hard? 

Grunting and moaning mix in one; you can feel his dick reaching your limit. Yours, but not his. The slap of his thighs against your legs becomes louder as he fucks you harder. 

His forehead gets bathed in sweat, your skin burns. Eventually, Byakuya allows your legs to join not before kissing the instep of your feet; only to push them to the side then and keep fucking you that way. 

Your hands grip to his scarf that still lays, all wrinkled, under your head. He smirks; your cheek also gets pressed against it as you turn your face to the side in pure raptured distress. 

You feel your orgasm coming, opening your eyes to let him know, only by your look of pleasure, you are about to come. 

Byakuya catches it quite well, as he maintains the rhythm just the same. “Come… come” he pants, with sloppy eyelids and his own climax right around the corner. 

You nod, pulling him to kiss you while you do. The kiss only lasts for as long as you can endure coming without gasping and wheezing. Panting he inhales and enjoys, as the very last drop of fuel needed for his own explosion. 

And an explosion is what it is; you can feel his cum flooding your womb, filling it up with throbbing intervals of white release. Seed overflowing, with pressure and hot, hot temperature… 

With not much to say, both flop into that bed that’s now covered in sweat despite the freezing winter of the outside. 

“I hope this made up for taking your scarf, Byakuya-sama ~” you purr, as he pulls you to rest on his chest. “I’m not over yet… my precious dancer”

The morning after. 

You wake up, still tired, with sore muscles and the scent of that man still lingering in the air. Yet, you are alone there; he’s gone. 

“And here I thought he was going to buy me for real…” you mutter, turning around to discover a little surprise of what temporarily had been his side of the bed; his scarf perfectly folded with a paper on top written in perfectly calligraphy.

𝐾𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛; 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟. 𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦, 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤. - K.B.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ➡ TO BE CONTINUED. 

As you try to pour the alcoholic liquid on a tiny jar, he snatches the bottle from you. 

“The whole bottle might be a more accurate glass” 

You nod, watching him engulf the sake with no manners whatsoever. Shanks looks stressed, tired… something must have affected him after visiting Marie Joise.

“Do you need anything else, Sir?” you ask, fidgeting your fingers while you try to ignore how hot his masculine unmannered actions are to you. 

“You know (Name) how much you cost me?” he asks, looking at you from the side as he battles for the last drop to fall from the bottle into his tongue. 

You shake your head, yet you are sure you weren’t expensive… Tenryuubitos consider your lives as mere trinkets. 

“Well, you are lucky to be so unaware… you cost me a large amount of berries and not only that, be thankful it was me who took you from Saint Rosward…” he mutters.

A sudden feeling of guilt and devotion sprouts on your insides, causing your knees and palms to hit the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, Master Shanks! I’m grateful for life!! I don’t have wealth nor anything but my body to repay you. You can use me for anything you wish!” you scream, hitting your forehead against the wooden floor of an old, shitty cabin on Sabaody. 

Shanks stands up; those words sounded a little too much.. however, his twitching crotch stops him… “you can use my body” she said? Well… 

“I… You really want to become my slave?” Shanks asks, with a smirk that’s so dark that it is even darker than the Celestial Dragon’s.

You nod, weary. An inexperienced young woman like you still can’t see the consequences of accepting such deal… “Yes, Master Shanks. I know you will be a lot more merciful than any of those bastards” 

But are you completely sure?

“Very well, come here then… do you know how to use your mouth, (Name)?” he asks, flopping back into the couch, patting his lap right after.

“I… yes… I’m not an expert, but I’ll do my best to please you, sir” you answer, crawling on all fours towards him. 

“Don’t worry, I am in fact a lot more interested in having a sweet innocent girl all for me…” he whispers, brushing your hair back before getting his sex closer to your lips. 

You are told to stick your tongue out first, allowing drops of precum to garnish it. 

Shanks sighs loudly when you look up at him with puppy eyes and your mouth full of his arousal liquids; his toes curl… why corrupting someone who has already been corrupted in many other ways, feels -and looks- so delicious? 

It takes almost all of his Haki to stop himself not to bury his dick inside your throat almost immediately; Shanks fights the need to break you, mercilessly… however, you make it so difficult for him. 

You let your blouse of exposed shoulders to fall down your chest. Showing off turgor and anticipation, your breasts exposed, close to his sex, ready to engulf his shaft in between the two of them. 

“That’s… good, babe” Shanks grunts, pleased. His dick slides in between your tits, while he encourages you to press them around it and start moving up and down. 

He brushes your hair back, enjoying the look on your face with your tongue out. Shanks hips accompany your ups and downs, going faster and rougher. It is until he begins to spasm more frequently that he cannot control himself no more. 

Pushing you back, softly but enough to move your body, you fall down. Covering your head with your arms, you try to protect yourself as an instinctive reaction to your traumatic past. 

“No, I won’t hurt you… come here” he exclaims, with pity tinting his words but lust blurring his judgment. 

As you stand up, he turns you around and pins you against an old table. The cracking sound might tell it won’t resist much weight but none of you care. 

Shanks hand lifts the skirt of your dress, finding your non-existent panties covering your sex. He is surprised as intrigued as to why you have no underwear on… however doubts must be cleared once he is over with you… 

“Lift a leg up for me, babe” he orders. 

You comply; left leg up, knee on the side on top of the table. 

“Good girl, please keep it up as you are pretty tight still… ugh, tight and wet…” Shanks trembles, his words make you and him extra horny. 

Shanks isn’t able to take time to prepare your entrance, he just wants to fuck you; just a little bit of your honeys rubbed against his tip will be enough to slide right in. 

“Have you ever been fucked this way, (Name)? he asks in your ear, as your insides engulf his sex with tightness and eagerness. 

“N-no… master Shanks… I- have barely been touched and penetrated, let alone used in such lewd position” you purr, enjoying the manly scent of his sun kissed skin. 

“My sweet innocent slave, I’ve made such a great choice to make you mine… I’ll corrupt you until you are nothing but my perfect little fleshlight” he moans while his hips begin to ram in and out of you so hard. Slapping thighs against ass as the rhythm increases and you become more and more weak for his sex…

Your nails carve marks on that wooden table, your nape becomes sore as he keeps biting on it, sweating on it the more he fucks you… your new life has taken a very interesting turn, freedom and at what cost? 

For sure you have won; Ah, what a pleasure it is to become Akagami no Shank’s slave.

Byakuya scoffs with sweet intent, you are such a soft creature made of pure adoration… how lucky he feels to have you, even though he shouldn't even touch you...  

“There is no need for me to allow it, go ahead sweet one” he whispers, running his long fingers through your hair, pulling you towards him, letting your hands slide the hakama off to discover his sex. 

Unpolluted, hard, perfect… erection waiting to be devoured, touched, pleased. 

Byakuya lets you do, with your hand delicately surrounding his shaft and your lips kissing the wet tip. A few pecks, and some licking, making it yours like a sweet lolly. 

The Shinigami takes a deep breath, throwing his head back. The sharpness of his mandible, the tensing muscles on his neck and the sweet silent whimpering makes you go a little harder; engulfing the whole length, making the tip hit the back of your throat. 

Byakuya’s abs tense and spasm, and in reaction for such pleasure he pushes your head against himself. It makes you gag a little, a sensation over his sex that fans the flames of perversion even higher. 

You bob your head, sucking faster; delicacy has been left aside for some time. Byakuya needs more, and you are happy to give it all for him. 

Now the sounds coming from his mouth are audible, loud. Panting added, falling into the trap of concupiscence and depravity. You are running out of air, you can’t reach for it, your mouth is too occupied surrounding his dick to grasp for a little oxygen. 

You can feel it on your tongue, on your cheeks, the way his length throbs and turns more and more swollen. Its warmth increases, climax is closer.

“Stick your tongue out” he commands, getting his sex out of your mouth. 

You nod, panting. Eyes, a little watery because of the gagging, fix on his night sky ones. You obey, your tongue rests on your lower lip, waiting for his seed, eagerly. 

He takes a few pumps to his sex but stops. His hand grazes your cheek, sweetly, lovingly. 

“You know what? I think your face is way too precious to ruin it with such low act… please, standup” he whispers, grabbing your hand to help you lift from the ground. 

You gasp; Byakuya has definitely become a gentleman… 

He walks backwards, pulling you from your hand towards him. Flopping on the chair behind him, you are dragged to sit on him. 

Your legs hang from the sides, as you face him. Your hips straddled on his lap, his sex impaling your entrance with the same mercy he holds against enemies… none. 

Arms surrounding your waist, hands pushing the small of your back against himself, your lips crashing against his… oh, the intimacy, the need, the desire. 

Your hips move back and forth; his hands help you bounce. 

Byakuya closes his eyes, shutting them with strength, as he focuses on keep going. There is only much he can do to last longer, as climax was around the corner. You didn’t mind, though. You were happy receiving his seed in your mouth, and now, you are happier to do it inside…

He grabs your wrists, making your arms be thrown back over your head. The captain pins them against the in between of your shoulder blades, making your chest pop, with breasts bouncing closer to his face. After all, Byakuya is just a man, he simply loves to watch that hypnotic carom of your pair. 

“You are clenching to me, are you coming?” he asks, almost in pain, trying to wait for your orgasm to arrive. 

“Y-yes, Kuchiki-sama… ngh ~” you whine, humping faster, clenching harder. Your walls can’t stop spasming, can’t stop milking the man underneath you. 

Byakuya lets your arms go, just for you to let them fall on his shoulder. Your nails carve into his flesh, for once it’s ok to leave marks on his back. 

Skin to skin, belly against belly, shivering, trembling. Teeth hitting against the other’s with sloppy kisses and erratic tongues. Eyes closed, only feeling, only listening… 

“I don’t have a lover, nor do I care about these types of celebrations. But, if you insist…” he says, taking a sakura infused filled chocolate from the counter. “I’ll take this one” he continues. 

You smile, awkwardly. How can someone be that beautiful, that sophisticated and so unfriendly at the same time? 

You nod, adding the bonbon to his final ad. 

“Your total comes to $13.06” you inform, looking into the little screen of your register machine. You are sure you can’t look into his eyes a single minute more or you’ll be short of breath. 

The long-haired man swipes his card graciously; the beep of confirmation comes almost too fast. He is probably more than wealthy, never once he had had problems paying. 

“Have a good night Sir” you murmur, giving the little receipt your machine produced. “Thanks. Here” you see his palm opened, with the sakura jam filled chocolate resting on it. 

You blink, repeatedly. Is he giving you chocolate? 

“Uh… thank you” you whisper, taking it into your hands. The little you inside of your stomach seems to be jumping in pure excitement.

He shakes his head, and perhaps the hints of a smile garnish the commissure of his lips. The man simply turns around, and almost robotically, walks away. 

You can’t let him go; not now. At least you need to learn his name, something. 

“Sir! Wait!” you jump the counter -or maybe you almost trip on everything on your way- “Your name! what’s your name?” 

He turns around, almost dramatically, like in a Hallmark movie, turning your knees weak and your heart a pounding hammer. 

“Kuchiki Byakuya, happy… uh… valentines…” he answers, as if he wasn’t aware of the weight of those words. 

You giggle; nobody wished you happy valentines until almost midnight… and the one who did is as handsome as a god can be. 

You think for a couple seconds; what if this is your last shot? 

“Nice to meet you, Kuchiki Byakuya. I’m (Name). I’m closing in ten minutes; would you like to wait for me? I could retrieve the chocolate” you shot. 

Byakuya frowns in confusion; maybe you weren’t part of his plans during such a cold night. But, just for tonight, why not try something different? Perhaps he could finally do something else but visiting her every night at his workplace… maybe, he could finally watch the sweet face of the woman he finds interesting outside her job. 

It only takes to face his fear, to finally break the loneliness eternity. Do it… 

“I’ll wait” he says, straightforwardly, pointing at the black automobile parked right some meters from there. 

You smirk, trying to look cool. Truth is, you aren’t exactly sure what just has happened. Much less what are you gonna do once you hop into such an expensive car. 

In any case there isn’t time to think but to act. You hurry up inside, closing perhaps the register a little earlier than you should. Your boss will understand, he must.

You soon take your apron off, running to the little bathroom on the back of the store. There isn’t much you could do with an eyeliner and an almost toothless hairbrush. So, you decide to trust your natural beauty… after all, it was what made this man give you the chocolate. Right? 

You run to the door, calming yourself right before he could see you. And, acting too cool for yourself, you make sure to close the door of the store. 

“I’m ready!” you chime, standing by the car. 

Byakuya nods, he walks up to the passenger seat and opens the door for you. 

“Come on, you’ll freeze” he comments, showing you the unpolluted -never used- seat. 

You swallow, realizing you are about to hop on the car of a total stranger. You might know this man because every night he stops by to buy the same things, but you really know him? 

You take a deep breath and get inside, if I’m gonna die then let it be by the hands of this cutie…

The soft led lights in pink add to the car’s interior design a hint of playful eccentricity; the “new car” scent reaches your nose, and the comfortable leather of the seat engulfs your ass into the taste of a much more expensive lifestyle. 

Byakuya gets into his car, looking as majestic as he can. And you begin to suspect he does, no matter what he is doing; this man IS the definition of “majesties” 

“So, where do you wanna go?” he mutters, placing his right hand on the wheel -letting an expensive watch peak underneath his black suit-. 

“Ah. I’m a simple student that works during the nights to pay for his basic lifestyle… my suggestions won’t match yours; that’s for sure…”  you let him know, sure he doesn’t know about you. 

Byakuya sighs; tired, maybe, of his “rich people locations”. He thinks for a while, and soon the idea comes into his mind. 

“What about watching the moon?” he suggests; there is a pretty shine in his eyes once he mentions the moon. 

You smile, sweetly. Moon gazing sounds like the perfect plan to you. “I love the idea; I know a spot where he could watch the whole sky without the city lights around” 

Byakuya begins to drive; the car barely emits any sound, and it slides through the cold streets of your town, elegantly. He looks, as per usual, majestic while driving. The passing lights tint and kiss his handsome features and while in silence you enjoy the spectacle of such beauty. 

He is not a very talkative man, that’s for sure; but you aren’t mad at that. In fact, the feeling of peace this man brings with himself must be one of the best traits he has. 

“That one little road, follow the path and it will take you there” you break the silence with your indication; to reach the top of the hill there is a slightly abandoned road only those who know it very well can use. 

Byakuya nods, turning the wheel with utmost care to begin climbing the path. Some rocks move the car but there is nothing to worry about. Though the darkness of the forest around makes you think you are lucky -or not- for not being alone. 

Ten minutes pass; the very first signs of moonlight filter through the dense treetops, some strong stars do as well. 

“I’m in love with the rooftop of your car, Mr. Byakuya!” you chime, happy to discover an almost full rooftop made of glass. It is as if Byakuya had bought the car with the idea of stargazing often. 

“I found these types of designs the most suitable for me; I really enjoy looking at the moon” he confesses, with soft sprinkles of blush on the apples of his cheeks. 

You simply smile; of course, he is a man who enjoys looking at the moon… such a loner, almost like a wolf. Fierce, lonely but full of feelings he can’t express. Only through the moon, beautiful, peaceful, silent, shining bright in the middle of a dark night. 

“Of course you do…” you whisper, sure he hasn’t heard you saying so. 

But he did, and again the little smirk on the commissure of his lips appears. 

Soon, the road finds its end. The hill, the city ahead and its lights underneath. Nothing gets in between the dark sky, sprinkled in twinkling silver, showing the brightest of them all right in the middle. 

“Aaand we are here” you confirm, as the car stops right by the cliff.

“I’ve never been here, what a beautiful spot” Byakuya expresses, sincerely and amazed by how pretty and lonely the spot is. 

You smirk, cocky. A point for (Name)! Though the moment only lasts for a moment, as you are thrown back by the sudden pressing of a button. 

“Now you can enjoy it better” Byakuya lets you know he was the one moving the seats for them to lay as flat as possible. You are in what you could say a panoramic bed seat, panting a little because of the sudden scare. 

“I- yes. I told you twice now, but I’m in love with your car” you repeat, crossing your hands on your stomach, focusing your eyes into the sky above. 

“You want it so bad? I can give you one” he says, so natural, as if gifting a car wasn’t such a BIG deal. 

You turn your face to him, amazed. “So, you are rich, rich” you joke, even if that was a total truth. 

Byakuya nods; he is not the type to openly brag, but he most definitely isn’t ashamed to show how wealthy he is. 

“Is nothing, you show me this place, I must retrieve it some way” he says, sounding more than serious. 

You scoff, playfully. “You gave me chocolate, remember? That’s enough” you comment, fighting your inner self wanting to strangle you for not accepting the car. 

The long-haired man turns his head slightly to the side, maybe like a puppy when they don’t understand something. Maybe this is the first time someone has told him “no” to a free car, or maybe he has just found out he is indeed on a valentine’s date. 

You wait for his pale lips to say something, although you wouldn’t mind them to crash against yours. The anticipation grows stronger, why is he looking at you in complete silence? 

You blink a couple of times, trying to stop your body to slowly come closer to his side. 

“Do you really care about chocolate? Are those your favorites?” the demigod in front of you suddenly asks. 

You frown in confusion; why is he so… random? 

“Well… yes, anything infused with the subtle taste of sakura to be honest” you inform, unaware, completely lost. “Sakura flowers in general, to be even more specific” 

Byakuya gets comfortable, a lot more, throwing his body a little closer by the minute as you speak. 

“What do you like about Sakura, (Name)?” 

“For starters, they are the definition of "ephemeral". They are beautiful, delicate. When they finally bloom, their sole presence makes everything look magical, precious. But that's the whole thing, they don't last...”

"They don't last to remind us that beautiful moments are short" Byakuya finishes your sentence, with a pain in his heart that's too noticeable. He focuses his eyes back into the moon, he can’t look at you right now. His nose buries into his cream wool scarf. 

“You are right, however, they come back year after year. To wait and prepare for the spring gives meaning to their short appearance...” you chime, causing him to look at you from the side. 

Perhaps, those words meant more than what you tried to imply. At least for him. 

“Are you the spring, (Name)?” he suddenly asks, coming closer to you, this time so close you can even smell the fine perfume he is wearing. 

“Perhaps I’m the warm weather, and you are the cherry blossom buds waiting for it to bloom…” you whisper, closing your eyes to let him kiss you if that’s what he desires. 

“Mhj…” he nods, taking his sweet time to plant a delicate peck on your lips. A peck that turned into a kiss, and kisses that turned into a spring ~