#tw.gun

because Sylus was currently pressing the cold barrel of his pistol against the side of your head as his other hand tilts your head up to face him.

"answer me, kitten. or else the big bad wolf's going to eat you...aren't you afraid?"

he'll ask and you'd feel the warmth of Caleb's breath on your clothed core, one of his large hands squeezing the soft of your thigh as he pushes them apart (as if his broad shoulders weren't already doing the job). his other hand was pressing the cold tip of his pistol against your soft wet pussy. stroking the puffy bulge of your clit with the cold metal as he breathes on it. the mix of cold and warm making your brain fog. your fingers pushed pathetically against his face only for him to give them a sharp nip.

"mnghh- d-don't know...i...augh-"

you tried to respond through the fog but that only served to displease the tall white haired man behind you. he squeezed your jaw open to lodge it snugly in your throat. the bitter taste of metal and gunpowder combined with the sheer stiff girth of the metal pushing down your drooling tongue to hit the back. looking straight into your eyes he smirked and slipped the safety off.

"don't know is not an appropriate response for such a simple question, sweetheart."

Caleb laughed at that, sliding your panties to the side to rub the metal right on your core. you let out garbled whimpers, thighs clenching instinctively.

"the old man's right, pip-squeak. come on...tell us. who's idea was it to be fucked silly with a gun?"

Sylus stroked your hair away from your face with a gentleness that belied the way he was thrusting the barrel of his pistol down your sweet throat. all you could see was him looking over you, feel large hands stroking your skin lazily and holding you firmly in place. his long fingers traced the indent of it beneath the skin of your throat. he slowly leaned down to your height and pushed your head into a snug headlock so that you could see what the other man was doing between your legs, placing a soft condescending kiss on the side of your scalp. your pathetic drooling was leaking all over the sleeves of his more than a thousand dollar dress shirt and onto the front of your top.

Caleb tuts softly at your pitiful moans as he spat on the barrel of his gun and slipped the safety off. his finger rested on the trigger as he pushed it deeper inside you.

"well you leave us no choice. maybe if the bullets meet in the middle, you'd have no choice but to open up...in the literal sense."

Caleb's threat sent a shiver down your spine, making you clench tighter around the pistol, ugly fat droplets of snot and tears dripping down your face. you tried to protest yet again only for it sound like garbled nonsense as more of your drool dripped down your chin and onto your increasingly translucent shirt.

"admit it, sweetheart. or do you want us to fuck it. out. of. you?"

Sylus cooed, emphasising each word with a thrust of the pistol in your throat. Caleb's warm lips began suckling on your pouty puffed clit, slurping loudly as he bullied his pistol further up your drooling cunt.

And he keeps the gun under your chin until he gives you an earth shattering orgasm and there's no way you can hold back your cries.

The question is, what's going to happen the next morning when you wake up?

¹ = in ballet, it's nothing more than the technique of moving the arms properly and in it the arms move specifically from the shoulder and not from the elbow, and they need to be fluid and smooth, especially when being performed on stage. and this name, "port de bras", can refer to just one arm harmonization exercise or to a group of series of positions, which is precisely the case in which it was used in the scene quoted in the story.

[visual demonstration]

² = it's the move of when one foot slides along the floor before brushing into the air, and while the first foot goes into the air, the ballerina jumps and both feet met 'in'.

[visual demonstration]

³ = "adagio" refers to any movement that is both slow and graceful, so, it can be, e.g: développé, plié, arabesque (and many more as well).

⁴ = "Prima ballerina assoluta" is a title given to basically the most talented and notable female ballet dancer of some/the generation.

— Ready? Everything ready? — Ran looked back over one shoulder with one hand straightening the tie that was clinging too tightly around his neck, he didn't know if he always wore his own ties too tight, like a second skin, or if the nervousness of the delicate situation was making him uncomfortable for the first time. 

— Obviously. — The only one who answered was Kokonoi, who looked tidier than ever, but still wearing the little red line of makeup under his eyes that made them take on a more feline character; just the way he liked it. 

— I sort of... — Haruchiyo began to speak without knowing how to express his doubts as the guard at the main entrance of the Opera House checked the information on the identification cards of each of the men present there. — I didn't understand if we were going to finish the transactions during the ballet performance or if we just need to watch this? 

And then the eyes fell on Mikey, as if he was Jesus and his answer would bring miracles. The answer, however, only came out of his mouth after all of Bonten's men had gone past the guard at the main entrance and were guided by two female Russian officials with whom they were talking for work and guns. 

— It is a political exchange. — He sat exactly in the middle stateroom chair that was close to the balcony from where it was possible not only to see the stage in a panoramic view, but also the people sitting in the less comfortable chairs below where they were. — We financed this show with dirty money that will probably be injected into whatever project they are doing in the Russian underworld, they give us the guns we need. — Mikey's eyes wandered around the brightly lit stage before turning to the other balconies around theirs, it was possible to tell that the Russian syndicate had moved some things around under the table so that Bonten would be in the best place possible. — I doubt that the rest of the people sitting in the other box seats are normal citizens. 

— So, do we need to just watch? 

The answer came in the form of a nod from Manjiro and Haruchiyo leaned back against the comfortable back of his armchair in the same way that Rindou and Takeomi had done seconds before. 

— Watching and enjoying the show. — Kokonoi commented, pulling out of a pocket some kind of golden binoculars that would help him to watch the show closely, even though they were fairly far from the stage.  

— You look like a grandma wearing this. — Rindou remarked and almost everyone, with the exception of Kakucho and Mikey, at least gave an amused and mocking smirk. 

— Shut the hell– 

Kokonoi held back and abruptly closed his mouth as the stage lights slowly dimmed, as if the show's producers were trying to recreate the dimness of the night, and a silent general consensus made it obvious that it was time for the performance to begin. 

And on the other side of the heavy red curtains, you were nervously resting one arm on the knee of your ballet company colleague and closing your eyes while the soft music of the theater orchestra filled your ears. 

The first act was just a brief visual presentation of the story, as always, but even after a hundred, five hundred, a thousand performances, you still felt as if you were about to have your heart explode with tachycardia. You could feel absolutely everything, from the high-top pointe shoes squeezing the sides of your feet that had not yet fully recovered from the last grueling rehearsals of the previous weeks, to the cold radiating from the shiny stage floor, since the first scene consisted of you getting up from it to dance around your partner — and if there was no orchestra to serve as your partner in crime, maybe the audience could hear your crazed heartbeat. 

While your clothes were flowing white and had small glittering sparkles and two small cream-colored plumes to represent your fairy wings, your colleague's were typically styled as a Scottish kilt. For almost two hours of the show, you would be a Sylphid, he would be James, a young man committed to Effie but in love with you.

You pulled the air into the lungs and only let it out once the curtains opened. The light around the stage was lowered and immediately focused on your silhouette and that of your stage mate, so it was hardly possible to actually intercept any concise faces in the audience. At least not until you, after looking at him, rose from the floor gracefully, body weight moving diagonally the way the choreographer had taught you many months before, and assumed your starting position with the right foot resting with the tip of your ponte shoes on the floor and the left one completely flat. 

Now, in fact, it was just you, the blood running insistently through your temples as a message that you needed to concentrate to the maximum even if the people didn't really know when you made a mistake and a silent audience that was only allowed to clap at scene changes, act transitions or performance endings. 

Deep down, so deep that perhaps it was stored in the same trunk as your personal traumas as a ballet dancer, you felt as if you were floating on the stage — as if your ponte shoes were your Hermes shoes, and the white dress with fluttering tulle helped convey this idea to everyone present there. 

Everyone present there was paying attention to you, including Manjiro Sano, who didn't even notice the way his body moved forward and hands rested on the armrests of the comfortable armchair when you began to move as if you were a seductive dream as delicate as a morning breeze or an angel's wing feather. It didn't even feel like you were touching the floor, but rather like the tulle of your dress was slowly embedding itself in Mikey's memory like a piece of heaven in his Dante's Inferno. 

While you and your ports de bras¹, assemblé² and adagio³ were going through his mind, absolutely nothing but achieving perfection was going through yours, especially since the idea of the performance was precisely to bring a piece of James' dream, a young man in love, to the stage, and dreams are not human and should not breathe like one. 

Manjiro didn't used to believe in angels because he had never even seen one in his entire life. All his life until now, right in front of him, with a flowing white tutu dress and an elegance that made him question whether you were human at all. No human could do that — float like a mystical being and make a man like him hold his breath without knowing how to react properly.  

— Koko... — Mikey's voice came out almost as a whisper. — Can I? — He nodded at Hajime's binoculars, who pulled them away from his eyes to look at him.  

— It depends on how long you are going to use it. 

— Just... — Manjiro's head turned sideways again, now you were already finishing the initial scene and he was missing the golden chance to see your face up close using the binoculars. — Gimme it, Koko, I need it. — His hand gestured and Kokonoi, however unwillingly, left the object in his hand. 

Mikey promptly adjusted their internal distance and put them over eyes at just the right and precise time to catch a great view of your face smiling gracefully as your scene partner woke up from James' imaginary sleep and the performance continued with you calmly leaving the scene and Effie entering. 

Manjiro didn't even realize he let out a relieved sigh when he could see your face up close, but everyone around him did, just as they also noticed the way he didn't return the golden binoculars to Kokonoi and also made a small 'O' as soon as your character, after having a symbolic veil placed around your waist by James after he was tricked by the forest witch, died and your ballet partner finished the second act with melancholic steps. 

Soon after, several claps filled the theater completely and Mikey, in the Bonten box room, was the only one who stood up and applauded so loudly that his palms reddened when you and the entire corps de ballet finished thanking the audience for coming to see the show. 

Watching you walk off one side of the stage followed by the guards and other cast mates, Manjiro wondered if somehow he would manage to intercept you on the street before you got into the bus to go back to the hotel where everyone was staying.  

— Who's she? — He asked, looking over his shoulder at Haruchiyo and Rindou and they looked at each other.  

— Don't you follow ballet? — Rindou asked and Mikey's face contorted in irritation, he understanding that his boss's patience didn't allow him to make jokes. — She's Y/N, if 'm not mistaken, I don't follow ballet much, but I've heard of her ‘cause she's quite famous as a dancer and I've seen one of her shows. 

Mikey almost felt betrayed that Rindou never talked about you. But more than this: he needed to see you again, up close, without the binoculars. 

— Does anyone have a pen? — He asked and everyone looked at each other. — So, get one. — Ran and Haruchiyo promptly stood up at the same time as Kakucho; the abrupt movement did not go unnoticed by the guards on the floor below their cabin and Mikey promptly gestured with the head and one hand that they were just going to the bathroom. 

A few seconds later, Sanzu appeared back in the cabin carrying a pen that was strangely hot and Mikey didn't care whose hand he had pulled it out of. 

— Don't let her cast leave the building, got it? 

— Mikey, they... — Kokonoi stood up and reached up to force his view to scan a small door being opened on the opposite side from where you entered earlier. — They are already leaving. — Manjiro looked over his shoulder and stormed out of the cabin, followed by the men most loyal to him. 

He whistled as Ran and Kakucho appeared in the main hall of the opera house and the older Haitani, like his brother, understood that it was for him to go get his race car parked a few meters from the building and Rindou, deducing that Mikey wanted them to use it to avoid letting the bus with the ballet cast to leave and go to the hotel, explained this to him as they went to get the car. 

— Don't let those guys touch me. — Manjiro was referring to the guards and Kakucho and Haruchiyo understood that what he wanted to do was either dangerous or morally wrong. 

And in the end it was the first option, since as soon as you stepped outside the theater building, Mikey ran towards the bus that would have left if Ran and Rindou hadn't been blocking the way pretending not to know how to park and several people who were fans of your ballet academy were piling up around you and the other dancers trying to get into the bus safely. 

It was at this very moment that he realized that you were more famous than he had expected and that it was going to be necessary to pick off one person at a time until he got to you. And that's what he did; Sano Manjiro has no problem forcing his way until he's where he wants to be, and a few seconds — and nudges and shoves — later he was desperately rattling the pen near you and calling your name as if he were an obsessed fan. And you, on the other hand, only looked away by a stroke of luck, since you were used to people shouting your name after a performance. 

— C-Can you gimme an autograph?! Please! I– — Mikey didn't expect to flinch or stutter when you looked him straight in the eye with an eager, apprehensive expression. 

— Pardon? — You hadn't been able to hear what he was saying because of the shouting around the place.  

— An autograph! — He shook the pen in your direction and tried to get through the arms of the guards around you, and you looked around to see if the bus was about to leave or not. — Please! — You motioned to the guard to let Mikey come a little closer and took the pen, trying, with a confused and questioning expression, to understand where he wanted you to sign. — Here! — Manjiro turned the face away and put his finger on his cheek.  

It was an excuse to have your hand hold his chin for support so he could feel a bit of your skin against his. 

You signed your name as legibly as you could in the chaos and, hearing someone shout your name and recognizing the voice of a friend from the ballet company, turned away and threw the pen in Mikey's direction expecting him to catch it in mid-air.  

— Sorry! I'm in a hurry! — You shouted at Manjiro and he almost felt himself melting with affection. — Maybe another time, another show, we'll see each other again! — Your hand waved at him before your body entered the bus and Mikey signaled with his forefinger and ring finger for Haruchiyo to send a message to Ran that he could get out of the way of the bus. 

That night, the Bonten leader returned home with a satisfied smile and a beating heart as he ordered his men to research everything about your life as quickly as possible, which wasn't that hard to find out since a quick search already showed your background as a dancer and Prima ballerina assoluta⁴. 

In the following days, Mikey silently started paying the Russian syndicate with whom Bonten had relations so that he could get not only the exact location of the ballet headquarters where you were training, but also to find out how the schedule of shows as a dancer was in your personal schedule. Little by little, over long days that turned into weeks, he made himself present initially as a fan who always attended your performances and there were a few times when you were at the backstage that your eyes unwittingly managed to intercept him in the audience. 

You just didn't expect to see him walking through the front door of your ballet company's building in the following weeks or him greeting your choreography team as if they had been friends for a long time. He even attended some ballet practices of the upcoming shows and when you asked who he was, your closest choreographer replied that he was 'Sano Manjiro, the new partner of the ballet company'. 

And now, it was one of those days you didn't want to make typical when you were rehearsing some already memorized acts and steps and Mikey was watching you almost from the side, almost from behind the almost transparent glass door of the main training room because he was trying to gather enough courage to talk to you during those several weeks. 

— I can feel you watching me. — You said, looking at his blurred silhouette on the glass in the reflection of the huge mirror. 

— I– I'm sorry. — His head popped through the door and you crossed your arms, still staring at him. — I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. 

— Who are you? — One of your eyebrows rose questioningly before you spoke again: — Everyone keeps telling me that you're a partner in the company, but if you were, you wouldn't have had to fight through a crowd to get an autograph that day. 

His heart pounded when he heard you say that you remembered him as well as if it hadn't been almost a month since that performance.  

— We can say that I'm just a guy who likes ballet a lot. — He answered, shrugging and opening the door a little and entering the rehearsal room. 

— I can tell you're this type of guy since you went to almost all of my shows last weeks. 

You pressed the leotard to your body and got into a starting position with your feet turned out with your heels resting against each other. 

And Mikey tried to break the ice a little, since he could tell that you were uncomfortable and indirectly tried to make him let you alone and leave the room.  

— I looked like a creepy guy in the previous days, didn't I? 

You couldn't hold back a mocking laugh that concentrated you from the first step and made you put your whole body weight on one foot before you put one hand on your waist and looked at Manjiro in the reflection of the mirror. 

— Damn, and you still ask? That's obvious, Mr. Sano! — You rolled your eyes. — No girl likes to feel watched, if I may be honest.  

— I know, I just... — Mikey felt his own lips very dry and uneasily shifted on his feet trying to find the right words to express himself. — You made something click in my brain in that performance of La Sylphide. And it was good, very good– I mean, you were good, very good, I– — You raised your eyebrows, his embarrassment was cute, almost amused, and a sideways smile appeared on his face as his cheeks reddened and he felt like a teenager again. — You get it.  

— Mhm, yeah, I did, don't worry. — You nodded your head in agreement. — And, even though you've been a creepy the past few weeks, I think I can say a "Thank you" to you for enjoying my performance so much that day, you in the audience don't know, but every compliment makes us, as dancers and artists, sleep better at night and also try to keep doing these huge shows for you even when our bodies ask us to go to sleep and rest. 

Were you thanking him? Mikey felt his cheeks grow even rosier and hoped you would talk to him some more, which you didn't — you had steps to train and revise and a job in which to excel more and more, but at least you let him watch your solitary training without complaining and deep down enjoyed checking his surprised and amused face a few times to see how high your leg could go and how expressive your arms were. For him, it was as if he was reminiscing about that same angelic spectacle from before; for you: it was just another normal training session. 

The next day Manjiro didn't show up, but in compensation he sent a grumpy Sanzu Haruchiyo to stand guard in front of his company's building to make sure everything was okay. He was trying not to be as "creepy" as in the previous weeks so as not to scare you and, in the absence of you physically, his time was spent watching other performances of yours on YouTube or checking if the gun deal was in order. On Friday, however, he returned to the same training room as before and tried to engage in a real conversation. And it ended with him giving you his number saying that "if you needed anything, you could call me" and you replying that your “usually didn't need a lot of help, so maybe he could wait for a call or message from you sitting down so he wouldn't get so tired”. 

Mikey never expected you to be an easy conquest or an easy girl to captivate, but he had all the time in the world and if didn't, he wouldn't hesitate to make Cronos bow down before your feet. 

Little by little you got used to his presence and gave Manjiro a little more freedom to talk and interact with you, to the point that one day, after one of your shows as a dancer, he asked you backstage if you wanted to go to dinner with him — and Kakucho was even waiting outside the opera house with the car parked — but you refused with a playful tone saying: "Uh? You want me to go out with you, but didn't even bring a bouquet of flowers?" when, in fact, you were just tired and wanted to go home soon so you could sleep. In belated response, the Bonten leader showed up a few days later at another performance with a bouquet of your favorite flowers saying: "Now, I brought a bouquet, and I also booked the restaurant just for the two of us, so...?”. 

Deep down, he was lucky that you weren't so tired that night and that a cough choked off your embarrassment and beating heart, the answer was positive this time and, ironically, the dinner was more lively and fun than you expected. It was the turning of the tide that Mikey needed to get closer to you and be able to attend all your rehearsals without having you treat him like a stranger — which meant that after almost all your shows or weekends off you were going out with him. 

Until the day came for you to introduce La Sylphide again. And again, Manjiro felt like it was the first time he was watching it, but this time his lungs and heart were filled with the dust of romance and you seemed even more like an unreachable goddess. Or almost unreachable, since after the show his hands managed to reach your face while you were eating dinner together and made you stare at him for long seconds until his attention slid to your lips and your breath mingled with his. 

— D-Don't, Manjiro. — It was the first time your voice faltered in his presence, he couldn't stifle a satisfied smile. 

— You don't want me to kiss you? — His head dropped a little closer to yours and you placed your index finger on his lips. — Or are you afraid that you might like it too much and want to run away with me away from your normal life? — A ragged laugh escaped you.  

— I'd never run away with a man like ya', Manjiro.  

— If you're so sure of that, do it. — He clasped a hand in the back of your neck and pulled your face closer. — Do it, kiss me, go ahead if you're so sure about it. 

It was a challenge that ate at your insides and made you want to kiss him until he was breathless so that he could learn not to try to pull you out of the comfort zone that you had built with a lot of sweat and foot pain from ballet shoes. 

Maybe having him so close made you less sane than before, since as soon as your lips smacked against his on their own you felt like you weren't yourself in the same way he felt when he saw you dancing like an angel for the first time. However, after so long of not relating properly to other people with anything beyond friendship for the sake of your professional work as a dancer, it seemed that you had unlearned how to kiss with the same intensity as before — and, for Mikey, this was perfect, it meant that he could and should guide the rhythm in the proper way and that's exactly what he did by taking control of the situation and deepening the kiss with his tongue sliding between your lips and a mess being created between you. 

In the end, the one who had to pull him by the hair in order to breathe properly was you, and your eyes immediately shifted their attention to the restaurant floor as soon as they opened. And one of his hands slid down to caress your knee. 

— You're as good at kissing as you are at dancing. 

— Shut up, Manjiro. — You answered shyly before sinking the back against the seat and he let out a chuckle before deciding to let you digest and decode the frenzy of feelings messing up your brain. 

Because of this mess, after that dinner you spent two whole weeks ignoring him and just when Mikey was beginning to think he had done something wrong and ruined everything, a text from you arrived on his phone asking if you could go out together next weekend and he almost jumped out of bed going to answer it immediately. 

When he saw you arrive wearing a sundress that fluttered when the wind kissed your body, his brain understood that it wasn't just a "out going"; it was a date. It became more obvious when you shyly, without saying anything, slid your fingers through one of his hands to intertwine yours in his. 

— We... — Manjiro was about to ask and not announce that you were dating, but he knew that if there were any unclear edges between you two at that moment, you might slip through his fingers again. — We're dating. 

You glared at him, trying to stifle a silly smile.  

— I don't think boyfriends kiss their girlfriends just once. 

It was the cue he needed to kiss you again in a more tender way than the first and the kisses that came in the hours, days and weeks that followed made you feel as if the world was lighter even though ballet practice was getting harder. And you had no idea why they were getting harder and harder. 

Until the news came. You would be performing in other theaters, since, as a prima ballerina assoluta, your presence and talent were required to be seen by other eyes. And for you, it was not a problem to have to travel around the globe, this was just a consequence of your job, so when you texted Mikey about this before going on stage for another performance, your mind was at ease and it kept like this until you woke up the next day, showered and went to the huge building to train again. 

And, to your surprise, Manjiro was already sitting in one of the movable armchairs scattered around the room waiting for you with a serene face. 

— How was the performance yesterday? — He asked and you dropped your backpack with a change of casual clothes on the floor before walking towards him and leaning down to kiss his lips. 

— Great! It was nice, but, to be honest, I came home with everything hurting and fainted into my bed for... — Eyes went to the wall clock. — Almost 10 hours straight! 

— Yep, 10hrs. — Mikey cleared his throat and checked once more the message you had sent about having to spend an entire season traveling. — And also a lil’ over 10 hours since, y’know, that message. — He shook the phone in your direction and you leaned on the firm metal bar in front of the mirror.  

— You... have a problem? With my new schedule? And, well, y'know, the traveling and me spending time away from you. — Your hands nervously went to adjust the leotard around your hips and a morbid silence settled over the place as Manjiro raised his eyes making a long, resilient and patient path from your feet to face. 

He was scheming, thinking. On how to make you stay not only on his side forever, but also on how to silently curtail your path as a dancer, since he knew that in a fight involving him and your job, your answer would always be the pointe shoes. 

— Absolutely not, my angel. — He gave a sideways smile before standing up with his hands in his pockets and an air of triumph surrounding him until his feet stopped in front of him. — I just kept thinking all night about how I’ll have to get used to you being away for a while, for a few months, y’know I got used to sleeping knowing that you're only a few streets away from me and not a few miles across the ocean, don't you? — Your head nodded, but before your mouth could open to answer him: — But! But, don't worry, I'll support you with this new project and I might even try to get a flight to see you perform in other theaters! 

Mikey leaned in to kiss you and crack a complacent smile as his hands slid from the top of your back to your waist to squeeze you and send a shiver down your back slowly. 

— I– M-Mikey! — You tried to speak between the little kisses he proceeded to give you, and his body clung to yours until your back was slamming against the support bar of the room. — W-We can, we can do video calls and– 

— Yeah, video calls, we can do it anytime you want, angel, of course we can, mhm. — His lips fell on your lips and fingers slid down to your ass to squeeze it and snuggle into the sides of your leotard. — But, now, we can do more than just see each other, right? I can feel your skin, you can feel mine and I can even make you feel really great before your ballet stuff. 

— We have no time, 'Jiro. — Although that had come out of his mouth, his hands had already traveled to the middle of your legs to pull one of the bars of your leotard to the side and your fingers were soon replaced by his immediately placing themselves on the folds to spread them. 

— We have a lot of time, you're not a newbie dancer who have to share a practice room with twenty others, you're the ballerina. — He whispered, kneeling down, patting your thigh twice and nodding his head toward the metal bar, you understood that he wanted one of your legs to rest with its heel on the firm support against the mirror. 

— I don't think I... — You looked up at him, your breath starting to shorten as his fingers slowly teased your folds with circular motions. — It's different resting your leg here in a training and when you're between my legs, 'Jiro. 

— I know you can do it for me, angel. — He replied and his eyebrows rose suggestively as you tried to rest your leg on that iron bar as firmly as you could muster as you felt his warm, calm breath against your exposed pussy. — Mhm, like this is perfect, you're perfect. 

A small smile appeared on Mikey's lips before he concentrated and occupied himself with licking and sucking you thoroughly, his tongue massaging your clit and folds with a slowness that made you drop the head back against the mirror and tangle fingers in his platinum hair. Manjiro knows how to eat you out, how much pressure to apply to feel your clit throbbing against his mouth, but first he always wanted to taste you and explore everything he could find; it was obvious that he felt in heaven getting drunk on your pussy.  

It was almost a rite of passage for him to have a good day that he could spend long minutes sucking and licking you like a starved man until he felt your legs wobble — even though you were still trying to lean on the ballet iron bar — and your entrance squeezing over his tongue.  

You were so easy after he spent a lot of time chasing you like a swan and its hunter, he loved this feeling of power he had over you.  

— Do it, princess, cum all over my tongue, I know you want it, go on. — His voice came out broken by the times he spent sucking your clit and teasing you with the tip of his soft tongue. 

Your hands desperately let go of his hair to support yourself on the iron bar and almost half a second later you were coming with trembling legs, head falling back and the sound of his name coming from between your lips in the form of gasping moans. All while his eyes stared at you intensely from below, hands went to unbutton his pants and mouth got busy swallowing and savoring the sweet taste of your juices. 

— See? You did such a good job t'me, such a good and pretty girl you are. — A chuckle escaped Mikey's lips as he stood up and pulled you away from the iron bar until both your legs were on the floor and he could turn you to face the mirror. — Have you ever been fucked in front of this mirror? — His head jerked up into the reflection of the two of you and your hands tightened again on that support.  

— N-No, 'Jiro, it– you'd be the first to– — His voice overlapped yours. 

— And last, I hope. — Your head fell back to rest on one of Manjiro's shoulders and one hand pulled your leotard away from your pussy again while the other directed his cock leaking pre-cum toward your tight entrance. 

— Mhm, yes, Mikey, you'd be the only one, the first and last too. — You could feel the swollen tip sliding through your folds and instinctively your hips moved against his to try to slide it into you faster. 

— Look at the mirror, at us, princess. — Your head snapped up and, inevitably, it didn't take long for your attention to fall on the way his dick was teasing your entrance. — Isn't that a pretty sight? — You nodded and he held you by the waist as he slowly invaded you until you were taking it all the way down to the base and his cum-filled balls slap against your swollen clit. — Now, look at how well your tiny, pretty pussy takes me, how deep I can go inside you. — Manjiro thrust hard inside you and you almost lost the balance. — I could do this everyday with you if you didn't have all these shows, ballet performances. 

You felt a shiver run down your back slowly, his lips latch onto your neck, leaving wet nibbles and kisses against your skin, but at no time did his eyes wander from your face squinting in the reflection of the mirror and the way you seemed mesmerized by the way his cock slammed into your pussy and appeared and disappeared over and over again as he fucked you dumb. 

If someone in the hallway wasn't listening to your moans and his hoarse grunts, they would certainly be listening to the wet noise coming from between your legs and the sound of skin slapping and rubbing against skin over and over again. 

And Mikey, as he fucked you faster and faster and chased his own climax with his dick throbbing harder and harder, faithfully believed that shoving a baby inside you to keep you from traveling was the greatest proof of love that a man like him could give you. He already planned to leave Haruchiyo and Kakucho in charge of Bonten honorary for the next nine months in which he would place himself as the best boyfriend and future husband, the only thing out of his plans was: you agreeing to perform in other countries, almost as if you wanted to abandon him temporarily. 

Sano Manjiro could, would and will fuck a baby into you. And he'd do it with his pupils turned into hearts and hands gripping your waist possessively to keep you still while his balls slapped against your sensitive swollen clit and emptied themselves inside your tight, warm pussy. 

As you felt the hot spurts of his thick cum inside you, it was impossible not to moan his name out loud as your eyes rolled back and body trembled trying to digest the overstimulation. Unintentionally, your leg detached itself from the iron bar and if his hands hadn't been so tight around your waist and yours hadn't been the same way against that support, you would have fallen to the floor with his fertile seed leaking from between your thighs.  

— Damn, you're leaking already and I barely pulled out. — Mikey whispered as you watched your pussy let some of his cum leak out even though he wasn't completely out of it yet. — Even if you're going to make such a mess with this pretty pussy of yours, I still love you, y'know it, don't you? — He took you by the chin to pull your face to the side and kiss you as you nodded silently in response to his rhetorical question. 

And a kiss was what he also gave you before he let you shower in the ballet company's locker room and left the building to go call Haruchiyo to pull up information on what your nearest flight was. You were about to be placed in a little box of ballerina music that Manjiro had reserved for you from the very beginning. 

I took the picture from the servant, observing the family. All three males had the same flame colored hair and golden-vermillion eyes while the woman (the mother I presumed) had black hair and soft red eyes. I almost felt a bit of sympathy for them. They looked like a nice family, maybe I would use my poisons instead.

“Yes, sir.” I started to rise out of my kneeling position when a hand clamped down on my shoulder, squeezing roughly.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are.” A voice snarled. “But killing Kyoujuro and his family is my job.”

Turning to look at the man who grabbed me, I saw that it was a man with pink hair and golden eyes. My lip curled up into a frown as I growled out, “It would be wise to let me go if you wish to keep that hand.

“What can you d-” before he could even finish his sentence the woman had her thighs locked around his neck as she swung her weight around, throwing the man to the ground. A blade slid out of the heel of her boot as she stabbed it near the side of his head. He looked at her with wide eyes as a stinging pain spread from the slow forming cut that split his cheek. Blood pooled in the wound before falling down the side of his face.

“Akaza.” Muzan said simply, glaring down at the pink-haired man pinned by the small woman. “Effective immediately you are reassigned from the Rengoku Family.” His voice carried across the room commanding with a lingering threat. A slow smile began to tilt at his lips. “Unless you can beat her.”

Akaza grabbed the woman’s leg and tossed her off of him before dropping into a kneel. “Sir, if given the chance. I will not kill her but I can put her out of commission.”

I laughed, maybe a bit too loudly, as I glared at Akaza. I just had him pinned, cheek split open by the blades in my heels. And he thinks he can beat me. “I’m sorry. You? Put me out of commission. Take a hint from the blood spilling down your face. You cannot win.” Small daggers fell into my palms from the hidden compartment attached to my wrists and I pointed one of them at the man. “You’re more than welcome to try. I’ll try to not kill you.” I glanced over at the man who hired me. “With your permission, Lord Muzan.”

Muzan sat back deeper into his throne, his long legs crossed at the knee as he placed his intertwined fingers under his nose. There was a long pause of silence as the two assassins waited for his orders. The woman poised with her blades and Akaza dropped into his fighting stance. “Granted.” He watched with mild amusement as the two began to fight.

I dodged Akaza’s quick flurry of punches he aimed at my face, retaliating with my own with the dagger clenched in between the webs of my fingers. My blades, while never piercing his flesh with a direct hit, left glancing wounds on his face, neck and shoulders. I somersault backwards, the blade in my heels sliding out.

Akaza took a step back to avoid the sharp knife hidden in her boots when she flipped, the tip barey grazing his chin and leaving a small knick on his skin. He had to admit the woman was a decent fighter, but it was time for him to get serious. Only he was allowed to kill Kyoujuro. Akaza would not let some stranger take his prize.

His foot slammed down into the floor, splintering the wood as he focused his strength into his fists. Akaza would shatter the bones in her arms first, to hear her beg for mercy before breaking her legs and making her crawl back to where she had come from. Just as he was about to attack again, he stumbled, a nauseous feeling overcoming him. Akaza gagged and covered his mouth and it felt like he was both going to choke and vomit at the same time. Why did he feel so sick all of a sudden?

“It took long enough.” I walked over to where he was standing, watching him sway on his feet. “The poison has finally coursed through your blood.” I pulled a vial out of the valley of my breasts, swirling the liquid around. “I coat each of my blades in this serum that I make. It’s a deadly poison.” I stood in front of Akaza, a slight smile curling at my lips beneath my mask as I pressed my fingertips against his exposed chest and smeared the blood that dripped from his wounds. “Does it hurt, Akaza? Or should I say Soyama Hakuji.”

Gold eyes widened. How did she know his birth name? He has not used it since he was a child. Akaza choked on his own bile as it rose up in his throat as he struggled to speak. Was he going to die? Poisoned like a worthless creature after not even landing a single blow on this woman, this fem fatale.

He flinched when she suddenly injected him with a needle and the nausea slowly started to go away as he dropped to his knees to empty the contents of his stomach so that he could breathe again. “Wh-why did you?”

“I don’t kill anyone who isn’t my target.” I said simply as I tossed the needle away on the ground and put the vial back in the inner breast pocket of my top. I walked back over to where Muzan was sitting still crossed legged up now he held his face in the palm of his hand, looking quiet assumed. “Was that display to your satisfaction, Lord Muzan?” I asked as I crossed my fist over my heart and bowed.

Muzan sat up on his throne, a smile curling at his lips. “It pleases me to know that the Rengoku Family will be disposed of.” He said, looking satisfied. “The funds will be transferred to your account when you’ve brought me their heads. 12 million for each one.”

I nodded as I slid my dagger back into the weapons compartment before bowing once more. My heels clicked as I side stepped Akaza, who was still hunched over and probably still wondering how I knew his birth name. I stopped at the door, turning to the pink-haired man on the floor. “Because you were once my target before the hit was called off. Be grateful.” I exited out of the room.

Once I had left the building, I tugged my mask down and pulled out the photo I had placed in my pocket. I suppose I should start with one of the brothers. Killing the younger one first would leave a bitter taste in my mouth because he looked so adorable with that kind smile on his face. I glanced over to the other brother.

“Pity.” I said as I took in the older brother’s features. “He’s kinda cute.” Slipping the photo back into my pocket, I pulled my mask back up on my face and hid in the shadows as I made my way back home to plan out my tactics of getting rid of Rengoku Kyoujuro as quickly as possible. Even if I did not kill the whole family before my deadline, the twelve million I would get from just him would be more than enough.

-0-0-0

Bored.

Kyoujuro was bored. Very bored at this party that was supposedly thrown in his honor. He set his face into the palm of his gloved hand as he watched the scantily dressed dancers try to seduce him with their movements. None caught his eye. Kyoujuro reached for his drink, Brandy on the rocks, and swirled the glass around before taking a drink. His attention was caught when the music changed in tempo, becoming dark and seductive.

“INTRODUCING A NEW DANCER: THE FEM FATALE!”

Kyoujuro leaned back into his seat, legs crossed at the knee. The Fem Fatale. A dangerous name. He hoped this one would provide some entertainment for him. He watched the stage with hooded eyes as the lights changed to a dark shade of violet, his glass to his lips as he waited for the performer to come out.

His tongue wet his lips when a woman dressed in dark red lingerie with a black corset tied around her waist to give her more of an hourglass figure and a sheer black robe with red ostrich feathers decorating the train and sleeves. Her feet were wrapped in a pair of thigh high leather boots and she had a riding crop for her prop. She also left her hair down to frame her face beautifully. But what piqued his interest the most was the black lacy mask that covered her eyes, hiding her identity from him. Kyoujuro wanted to know who this “Fem Fatale" was.

He watched with greedy eyes as she strutted slowly down the catwalk, tapping her thighs with the riding crop until she reached the pole at the end. When her music started, she bent over and flipped back her hair, but a few loose strands covered her face, giving her a seductive look. Kyoujruo’s eyes never left her body as she danced and twirled around on the pole. He sipped at his drink as he watched her spin and spread those delectable thighs until her legs were in a straight line as she spun on the pole.

Kyoujuro felt the front of his pants become snug as she used the riding crop to spank her naughty ass and cunt as she spread her legs from the audience. Slowly, she stripped out of her robe, tossing it to the side as she grabbed hold of the pole. His cock twitched as he eyed her thighs and breasts as she danced around on the ground, her legs looking miles long as she stretched them over her head.

The front of his pants became almost unbearably tight when she ripped off the corset, her cute tummy on display for his viewing pleasure. His eyes followed her every movement as she slowly climbed up the pole, and begin spinning and twirling. Fuck, she was sexy. Her display of strength and her slow, erotic movements turned him on. When she spun around on the pole, supporting her body with just her upper body and ankles, Kyoujuro knew that he had to have her.

When her performance was over, Kyoujuro motioned for his bodyguards to go find her and bring her to the private room he rented.

-0-0-0

I stepped out onto the stage when they called out my stage name. I walked slowly down the catwalk, tapping the tops of my thighs with the riding crop I used as a prop. My eyes sought out for the Rengoku’s and I found him already staring at me with those beautiful golden-vermillion eyes and a glass to his lips as he took a drink. I made my way to the pole, heels clicking on the runway. Flipping my hair back I made eye contact with him, watching him adjust his pants.

Coming out of my robe, so I would have more freedom of movement, I slowly slid down the pole as my legs spread into a split. The Rengoku’s eyes never left my form as I danced around the pole, stretching my legs as I spun around on the pole wih just my hands. I slid down the pole until my knees touched the ground. I moved my body around seductively, my hair flying around with my movement and sticking to my gloss. Knowing that my performance was coming to an end, I snatched off the corset.

As my performance was coming to an end, I decided to show off my strength by locking my legs around the pole while spinning around in place. Slowly, I let go of the pole and supported myself by arching my back against the cool metal while pressing my ankles down to maintain my balance. I could feel his eyes on me as I spun around in slow circles. I wished I still had the riding crop to slide it along my covered heat and thighs, but I could tell he was already mesmerized by me. By the time I had finished my routine and blew a kiss to the crowd, he was gone and I knew that he was going to look for me.

-0-0-0

Kyoujuro sat in his private room, waiting patiently for his bodyguards to acquire the woman. He fixed himself another drink and poured one for her when they brought her to him. A soft knock at his door brought a smile to his face as he beckoned them inside. When the woman stepped inside his private room, she was even more beautiful up close than on stage. Luscious lips, perfect breasts, adorable tummy, beautiful hips and thighs, she was a goddess among goddesses.

He dismissed his bodyguards with a wave of his hand. “You can leave.” He said simply, eyes never leaving the woman in front of him. Her eyes were still covered by that lacy black mask and he was dying to see the beauty that laid underneath it. He smiled easily and laughed when she looked around the room. “I don’t bite.” His lips curled upwards into a hint of a seductive smile. “Unless you want me to, princess.”

Kyoujuro watched as her lips parted in a gasp and he held out the glass that he poured the drink into. “Brandy?” He asked, walking over to her so that she could take the alcohol.

I took the drink from him with a shy smile. Standing this close to him gave me a better look at his handsome features. I could see the way his gold-red eyes sparkled in the light, his perfect jawline, pearly-white, straight teeth, soft yet firm looking lips that were almost always pulled into a smile, and his voice was so deep and rumbling.

’ “Thank you.” I took a sip of the rich brown liquid, a bit surprised at how smooth it went down.

He laughed lightly, gaining her attention. “Smooth, isn’t it. This is Mendi Coconut Brandy.” Kyoujuro refilled her glass and his before clinking them together. “I enjoyed your performance. “He complimented her walking over to the couch and sitting down. Spreading his long legs, he patted his thigh for her to sit down.

I eyed him, trying to figure out the best method of killing him. I had the knives hidden in my boots that I used to dispose of the real entertainer earlier. I also have my poisoned hairpins tying back my locks I could use. I- My eyes caught the movement of him rolling his sleeves up and I saw the dark swirls of the tattoos inked into his forearms. Fuck... My body automatically moved over to sit down on his leg as I gave him a shy smile. “Is there something you want?”

Kyoujuro leaned in, the sweet scent of her lotions filling his scenes. Coconut. She smelled sweet like the fruit and it made him wonder if she tasted just as sweet and was as tender as the flesh. His fingers found her delicate wrist, the pads resting against her pulse and feeling the blood rush through it. “Nervous or excited to know why I called you here?” His smile was gentle, yet still a bit sadistic. Kyoujuro was the hunter and she was his prey.

Pulling the hair pins out of the bun I wore, letting my hair down, I smiled at him. “Oh, I have an idea of what you want.” I said as I shifted in his lap, straddling his thighs. Placing my lips against his ear, I whispered, “But too bad I won’t be giving it to you. I raised the poisoned pins high, ready to send them into the veins of his neck. “Next time don't be so quick to dismiss your guards.”

He sensed the danger and before she was able to plunge the sharp tips of her weapons into his neck, Kyoujuro knocked her hands away. The pins scattered across the room as he quickly flipped their positions on the couch, his gun drawn and pointed at her forehead as she had drawn a hidden blade and pressed it against his neck. “Hm...you’re a better one than the last one he sent.” His finger rested lazily on the trigger.

I began to feel a bit nervous at the large Colt .38 pointed at my head, but I didn’t let it show. “Big words coming from the Boss’s underling.” I tightened my grip on the handle of my knife, pressing it tightly against his skin. “What makes you think I can’t slit your neck before you can pull the trigger?” I fought the urge to flinch when the cold metal pressed even deeper against the center of my forehead.

Kyoujuro smiled down at her, his lips pulled taunt at her words. “The boss’s underling?” He chuckled as his finger itched to pull the trigger from that statement alone. “You have me mixed up with my father, I believe. He was the former head of the family.” He reached around and pulled at the silk strings that held her mask tied closed.

Rengoku Shinjirou wasn’t the boss? I began to sweat a little, the strings of my mask dangling with the tips tickling my shoulders. The only thing keeping it held up over my eyes was the barrel of his gun. Why didn’t Lord Muzan tell me that Rengoku Kyoujuro was the Mafia Boss. I would have targeted him last. I swallowed thickly as he slowly reached for the edge of the lace mask.

“Let me see this face of yours.” He hummed, pulling his gun back slightly, ignoring the bite of her blade against the side of his neck. Grabbing the lace between his fingers, Kyoujuro pulled it away revealing her beautiful face. She was gorgeous. “Fem Fatale. I see why you picked that name. Many have tried to come assassinate me and my family, but you’re the first one that used this method.” He hummed as he grabbed her knife in his gloved hand quickly and yanked it from her grip. “Muzan finally thought of sending a woman instead of that pink-haired bastard.” The tip of his gun moved down to tilt her chin up so that he could stare into her eyes.

I shivered as I looked into his golden-crimson eyes. They were so cold yet beautiful with that glow of lust that swirled in his irises. I felt helpless without my blades and Kyoujuro was so much bigger than me that I wouldn’t dream of taking him in hand to hand. Then there was the gun he had pointed at me. I swallowed thickly. “What are you waiting for? Kill me. You know that I came here to kill you by Muzan’s orders. Unless you want to offer me more money to take out Muzan for you.”

Kyoujuro clicked his tongue as he tapped the tip of his gun against the bottom of her jawline. “Now what is the fun in that, princess.” He trailed the cold steel down her neck to the valley of her breasts, pointing the barrel at her heart. “How much?”

“12 for each head and double if I finish before the end of the week.” I answered quickly, my eyes glancing over at the corner where he had thrown my weapons. I wished I had gotten time to redress into my normal attire, but his bodyguards had barged into the dressing room almost as soon as I had closed the door. I barely had time to grab the hair pins.

The more he stared at her barely covered body, the silver of his gun contrasting beautifully with her skin, the tighter the front of Kyoujuro’s pants became. Fuck she was gorgeous. He tapped the weapon against her breast, smiling when she jumped. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you go. But...” he trailed off, finger toying with the trigger. “On one condition.”

I arched my brow as I tilted my head to the left. Has he lost his mind? Let me go? I was just going to take another attempt on his life, maybe even go after his family first. “And what might that be?” I would play along with whatever he wanted if that meant I would live.

“I will make you fall in love with me before the deadline of your assassination attempt.” He smiled pleasantly, laughing a bit when she recoiled her head back. “If I can’t, you can have my life, but if I do, you’re mine.”

“You’re not fucking serious!” I screamed at him. Me? Fall in love with him? “You really think I won’t just try to kill you while you attempt to woo me?!” My brain stopped working when Kyoujuro reached out and placed a black leather gloved finger against my lips, silencing my rant. Damn him. Did he know I thought he was attractive?

His smile never left his lips. “I never said you couldn’t keep attempting to kill me, but I will thwart every effort and won’t stop until I break you and make you mine.” Kyoujuro leaned in, moving his finger and slid his tongue out and ran it over the seam of her lips. “Come on, princess, just admit that you’re attracted to me.” his hand trailed down her neck.

My lips were on fire from his touch as I looked up at him wide eyed. His fingers made my skin come alive when he led them down the front of my throat. “What are you...” I trailed off when his gloved fingertips traced over the swell of my breasts, his gun now being holstered back into its holder at his hip. A soft moan escaped when his palm brushed over my nipple before he used both hands to cup my mounds.

“Sensitive thing, aren’t you sweetheart?” Kyoujuro chuckled as he pushed her back onto the couch, his knee sliding between her thighs. “Let me give you a taste of what you’ll receive once you’re mine.” He leaned his head down slowly, intending on kissing her but his lips were met with her cheek as she turned her head away.

I placed my hand over my lips. “I’ll agree to play your little game, but I have my own rules.” I held up two fingers. First is that unless I say yes, you cannot fuck me.” My head rolled back when his thigh pressed firmly against my heat, tempting me into giving into his touch. But I had to hold firm. “The second is until I say so, no kissing either.”

Kyoujuro gazed down at her, his brow arched before he sighed. “Fine. I won’t fuck or kiss you until you say I can, however,” He snatched her hand away from her lips and grabbed her chin, hooking his thumb on her bottom lip. Gathering a pool of saliva in his mouth, Kyoujuro let it fall from his puckered lips and into her parted lips, landing on her tongue, “have a taste of what you’re missing out on.”

As his spit slid down the back of my throat, a small whine left me. He tasted like the coconut brandy we had drunk, rich and smooth. I wanted more, but Kyoujuro had already latched his lips onto my neck, nipping and sucking his marks into my flesh. My back arched off the couch, grinding my core down further against his hard thigh between my legs. His hand began to massage my breasts, squeezing the flesh until it spilled over in his palms.

“Come on, little one. Let me hear those beautiful moans.” He licked a line down her neck to the valley of her breasts. Kyoujuro pulled the cups of her thin, lace red bra down, pushing her breasts out. His mouth began to water at the sight of her taut nipples standing to attention for him. Latching his lips around her left one, he pinched and twisted the other in between his fingers. Soon a symphony of her moans graced his ears.

I could not hold back my cries when Kyoujuro began toying with my nipples. I weaved my fingers into his silky blond hair to hold him against my chest. The pleasure was starting to consume me as he did wickedly sinful things to me. I let out a gasp when I felt his other hand glide down my belly and rested between my thighs. He moved his thigh down so that he could up my sex from the thing red panties I had on.

Kyoujuro used his teeth to pull his gloves off his hands. He then pushed her underwear to the side and slid a finger along her slit. Releasing her nipple with a wet sounding ‘pop’, a smirk curled at his lips. “You’re already so wet, Princess.” He ran his finger up and down her cunt, parting her folds and watched her lewd juices glisten. “Look at the pussy, just dripping and sopping wet for me. You sure you haven’t fallen in love with me yet?”

My face heated at his words as I swallowed thickly, the taste of coconuts still heavy on my tongue. “N-no!” I whimpered, feeling two of the thick fingers swiping through my slick coated slit. “I’m not in love with you.” A gasp left me when he suddenly pushed those digits inside my clenching hole and my hands gripped the leather exterior of the couch. “Fuck.”

Kyoujuro thumbed her clit as he thrust his fingers in and out at a leisurely pace. He watched every expression that appeared on her face. Marveling a each lewd sound her pussy made as he fucked her with his hand. Adding a third and curling them, Kyoujuro found that spot that made her squirm and shake around him. He licked his lips as he stared hungry at her cunt. She only said that he could not kiss her mouth...

I was drowning, lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that he was causing on my body. My nails dug into the upholstery of the couch. His fingers found my spot quickly, like he knew my body like the back of his hand. My eyes slid closed as I started to lose myself in the mind numbing pleasure. Until I left something hot and wet drip onto my sex. My eyes shot open when I saw Kyoujuro spitting onto my clit, smearing it over my opening before lowering his head. “What are you doing?!” I kicked my legs out as I tried to grab his cheeks.

He looked up at her with a sinister smile on his lips before he slapped her clit, the stinging pain causing her to freeze up. Kyoujuro smiled up at her as he gathered her legs over his shoulders. “You only said I couldn’t fuck or kiss you, but you didn’t special how to fuck you or what lips I could kiss.” He spanked her clit once more before gliding his tongue over the nerve.

My head fell back as I gasped from the stinging pleasure of having my sensitive bud slapped and abused before his warm, wet muscle circled it as if trying to soothe the pain. I moved to curl my hands even tighter into his hair, not knowing if I was trying to pull him away or push him closer to my needy cunt. “Fuck...” I whimpered softly.

Kyoujuro licked up and down her folds, relishing in her sweet taste. She was indeed sweet and tender, even more so than the fruit. He could stay between her thighs, eating and drinking from her drooling hole all day. His nose brushed against her clit as his tongue dipped into her sugary hole to gather her slick. “This pussy is going to be all mine.” He groaned. “Won’t it?”

In my lustful daze, his words rang true in my ears. “Yes!” I screamed out, flinching his hand came in contact with my ass, the rings he wore possibly leaving an imprint on my skin. I quickly changed my words, “Yes, sir! My pussy will belong to you.” I whined out, fingers tightening in his long golden hair as I bucked my hips upward.

He hummed as he sucked at her opening to taste as much of her sweetness as possible. A combination of her juices and his saliva rolled down his chin. She tasted better than the finest of desserts. Moving his lips up to her swollen nerve, he flicked it with his tongue as he pushed his fingers back inside her slick, clenching hole. Her cream began to smear onto the silver and black rings he wore.

“Oh fuck...” I moaned out as he attacked my clit with quick flicks. I shook my head from side to side as my thighs began to tremble and shake around his head as my back arched even further off the couch. Kyoujuro caught my body before it landed back onto the cushion, pressing my cunt deeper into his face. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I chanted as my high was nearing. “Right there, please, right there.

Kyoujuro felt her walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers. He gave her clit one last suck before pulling away completely, ruining her orgasm. The Mafia leader gave her a sweet, charming smile before he placed his still wet fingers into his mouth. “Gotta become mine if you want to cum on my tongue, princess.” Standing to his feet, Kyoujuro reached for his suit jacket before reaching behind the couch for his katana. “It’s been fun. Until your next attempt, little fireball.” He walked out of the room

I sat up, knowing he did not just leave me on edge like that. The throbbing in my core let me know that he indeed left me in such a needy state for him. Clenching my hands into tight fists, I declared. “I am going to kill him!”

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Sanzu & Rindou: the finger would stop the bullet

Takeomi. Mikey, Ran, Koko, Kakucho, Mochi: No, you would lose an arm.

Sanzu & Rindou: YES IT DOES STOP THE BULLET!

Everyone: NO!

Mikey: *takes out a gun* put your finger in the barrel and stop the damn bullet then.

Rindou: Okay

Ran: FUCK NOO! *hold his brother*

Sanzu: Okay, then I'll do it.

Takeomi: Okay, it's for science.

Y/N: What the hell is going on here?! *sees Sanzu with a finger in a gun* Why would you all let him do that?!?!

Kokonoi: it’s for science

Y/N: what? No?! *pulls Sanzu away*

A/N: I wanna clarity that these kinds of events happen when they are high 😂💕. Sanzu is smart, and Rindou... ಠ_ಠ uh…