Just writing for fun and I hope you enjoy it as well. Ask box is open for chit chat if you feel like it. Content is mostly 18+ so be warned! Requests are: CLOSED!! Commissions are: Closed! Events: Closed!! Ko-Fi
Hellooo, this is the last chapter for this small fic.
I can only preface it again and again, but Sakazuki is not a good man nor does he have high morals (in this story). He is manipulative, abusive, and overall a disgusting human being. Please keep that in mind while reading :)
Still, one of my favorite One Piece characters.
Warnings: 18+, mdni, aftermath, the morning after, regret
Pairing: Yakuza! Sakazuki x female reader
Word count: 2.6k
The full, tied condom dangles leisurely between his fingers, his eyes following the steady swing until it comes to rest. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, feet firmly planted on the floor and elbows resting on his knees. He turns his head over his shoulder to look at your resting form, your back turned towards him; to say you look exhausted would be an understatement. The sheen of sweat that had been covering your body has now dried and it leaves your naked body shivering. His eyes catch on the red marks his fingers left on your delicate skin around your hip as well as around your neck from when he pressed you into the mattress. All evidence of what you made him do.
No, this isn’t entirely right. He could’ve shoved you away the moment you sunk between his legs, or better not free you in the first place. But curiosity had gotten the better of him; that and his dick. He really is a fucking old pervert after all. Well, not that it can be helped now anyways.
With a sigh he puts the condom next to him on the bed, then he gets up. His clothes rustle as he first closes his trousers and then puts his shirt back on, closing each button swiftly. He hears you shuffle on the bed; your body is curled into the fetal position and the shivering has become stronger. He contemplates for a moment, then he gathers your clothes off the floor and places them next to you. You should probably get cleaned. So should he. By the thought of it he can’t help but picture himself pressing you against the wall, your body all wet from the water while he pushes into you. He’s already crossed that line, where is the harm in doing it again? Would you let him? Probably depends on the amount of sheer disgust your feel for yourself once you wake up.
But he won’t. He wouldn’t say fucking you was a mistake (at least not a personal one. Professionally speaking he messed up if anyone found out). It helped him let his stress and frustration out in a way that did not involve physical violence and get his thoughts back in line. Just too bad for you that you weren’t entirely happy with the situation.
He huffs in amusement when he thinks back to when you begged him not to finish you. Honestly, he hadn’t even considered making you come when you two started. But when he felt how your body reacted to him and when you also started pleading with him his childish and maybe even petty side took over. Good for him because otherwise he wouldn’t have felt how good you could squeeze him when your whole body tightened as your orgasm hit you. Maybe it wasn’t too bad after all to be tasked with kidnapping and watching you.
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You wake up in the dead of night. You are cold and shivering and you notice that your nails have been digging into your arms for quite some time now judging by the stinging pain. Talking about stinging pain, you flinch when you uncurl your body and your lower region is sending electric jolts through the body – and not the nice ones. Your stiff limbs arch when you move and you just want to fall back into this dreamless sleep you had just woken up from. You are exhausted and a strange veil keeps you in a lucid state between being awake and being asleep.
But you push past it, almost heaving your body up into a sitting position. You groan. Your hands absentmindedly shuffle over the cold mattress and they brush against something soft. You try to feel what it is but in your almost drunken state of mind you can’t quite make it out. Feels like trousers. Whatever. You rub your naked arms, then your neck with one hand. It twinges when your palm rubs over your skin but you don’t know why. Maybe you should take a shower, you think to yourself. Or maybe even a bath. Yes, this could be a good idea. You’re naked anyways, right? For whatever reason.
It takes you three attempts to finally push yourself out of the bed. Where is your blanket anyways? Why are you sleeping without one in this cold? You stretch your arms out to search for the door, having difficulties finding it but eventually your hand bumps against the door knob. You grab it, turn it, and then step out into the hallway. Your hands rub over your eyes while you make your way through the hallway, blindly putting one foot in front of the other. Through the cracks between your fingers you can see that the light is on at the end of the hallway. Is your boyfriend here? Why is he still awake…?
You stumble, then bump against the wall. You curse under your breath. Immediately, heavy footsteps make their way towards you. Doesn’t sound like your boyfriend….
You try to blink away the fatigue as you try to make out the person behind the silhouette that is standing a couple feet in front of you.
You look at him; it takes a moment for your brain to comprehend the situation. He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t move, he just…stands there, waiting for you to say something. When realization finally settles in, however, you are too tired to react in an ‘appropriate’ manner. There is just nothing left; no shouting, no running, no fighting – nothing. It doesn’t even bother you that you are completely naked. And why should you care? Nothing he hasn’t already seen here, really.
“I want to take a shower.” You simply state. It is not a question yet you still wait for his approval. He takes a step forward. You don’t inch away. Not even when he reaches out for you, his hand grabbing your chin to make you look at him. He silently inspects your face. You let him. His question is calm and it seems more like a curtesy rather than real concern.
“You okay?”
Are you okay? You study his face but nothing gives away his thoughts. His stoic brown eyes are probing your own for something he doesn’t quite seem to find. The rings under his eyes have become darker over the past week and the wrinkles on his face, especially the lines between his eyebrows from his constant scowling are deep, making his face even harsher. You remember how the stubbles of his beard tickled against your face when he pressed his lips against your ear to whisper humiliating things while the hand that is holding your chin was between your legs, forcing the inevitable outcome onto your body he wanted.
“Yes.”
He raises an eyebrow but accepts your answer, letting go of your chin and stepping aside to let you walk past him to the wet room. You feel his stare on your back but you don’t care. You just want to get clean.
.
He stands in front of the closed door, his hand hovering over the door handle but ultimately, he decides against entering. For now. Honestly speaking, he was surprised by your reply but then again you don’t look like you’re fully here. It probably took a bigger toll on you than he had originally anticipated but so be it. What is done is done. He can’t change what happened nor would he want to. If you came at him again, offering your body, he’d accept.
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He looks at his phone and his brows furrow. You’ve been in there for quite some time now and besides the sound of running water in the beginning he hadn’t heard a sound. Now, he was getting worried. What if you straight up killed yourself? He’d get in huge trouble with his bosses, especially after what happened in the garage. He might even need to redeem himself and redeem his honor. He’s seen many men cut off phalanx of their fingers and he must say he quite liked his and wants to keep them.
With long, purposeful strides he walks back to the wet room. Without knocking, he just barges in, ready to perform resuscitation on your lifeless body. But he doesn’t need to. You have filled the brand new bathtub (he didn’t even know it was already working) and are now sitting in the water, legs tugged against your chest and arms wrapped around your knees. The room is full of steam, all coming from the seemingly boiling hot water. Your skin is red and your eyes look glassy. He’s not sure if it is due to the heat or if you have been crying. Doesn’t matter, he wants you to get out of there.
With a scowl, he crouches down next to the bathtub, rolls up his sleeve and reaches for the plug in the water. He is stopped by your hot, wet, timid hand when you reach out for his arm. He turns his head to look at you, ready to scold you but he presses his lips together by the sight of your face. You look miserable, even worse than before.
“Why did you do it?” your voice is barely above a whisper but he can hear your perfectly. He wants to ask you what you mean, to make you spell it out for him. But he doesn’t.
“Because you offered,” he sees your body tense at his response and he knows he hit something there.
“You could’ve said no.” you want to shift the blame on him completely but he won’t let you.
“Why would I say no?” you don’t have an answer to that. So, you opt for a different question.
“When did you plan to do it?”
“Never planned on doing anything.”
“Then why….why did you have condoms?” good question. He should lie.
“Bought them on a hunch.” You lift your gaze to look at him.
“A hunch?” he nods, not elaborating any further and you don’t press him.
Your hand on his arm absentmindedly wanders over his skin, your fingers following the lines of his tattoos. He lets you, slightly out of his depth at this moment. You take his big hand into yours, inspecting his fingers. What are you doing?
“Did you….at least enjoy it?” where does this come from? His body tenses and he retracts his arm, your hand falls back into the water powerlessly. Your eyes, however, become clearer and you repeat the question.
“Did you enjoy it?” Sakazuki presses his lips into a thin line, considering his options. He wants to play it down, he really does, but something in your eyes convince him otherwise.
“If you want proof, the condom should still be on the bed. Squeezed a lot out of me.” You look at him for a moment, then slowly nod.
“Good.” You mumble and he can’t help but huff.
“Good?”
“It was humiliating enough as it is but knowing that you didn’t even…..,” you trail off there but catch yourself again. “…would’ve been even worse. At least it served the intended purpose.”
“Should not do it again.”
“I’ll think of it the next time I’m being kidnapped.” You try to be funny, despite the situation but he can see right through you. He doesn’t feel bad.
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The next time you wake up it is bright outside. You have gotten clothed after the bath last night and you felt a tiny bit better than before but you still can’t get rid of this feeling of being dirty; it covers your body like a second skin. Maybe it takes time to finally shed it like a snake molting. But for now, you are stuck with it. You just hope people won’t notice.
Sakazuki enters the room, the cuffs in one hand and a black sack in the other. He hadn’t put the cuffs back on last night after your bath and you were thankful for it. You had no strength to escape anyways and Sakazuki must’ve seen that too. So, the cuffs are not the thing that surprise you.
“Why do you…” you don’t finish the question, your eyes fixated on the black fabric.
“Time to go home. Your daddy’s been a good boy; we have no need for you anymore.”
Just like that. You don’t know what to think. You should feel relief, even excited that you could finally go home, be away from this monster in front of you. But you don’t. You don’t feel anything. Ever since last night, your old life feels like a distant dream; your mother, your father, your friends, your boyfriend – all seem like faint ghosts from a past life you slowly but surely have forgotten.
He gestures for you to get up and you oblige without a word, not even a slight tremble in your body. He looks at you suspiciously before he pulls the sack over your head.
“You don’t seem too excited about that,” he comments calmly, then cuffs your hands in front of your body. You don’t reply. You feel his hand on your back between your shoulder blades that pushes you forward while at the same time leading the way. You can feel the heat from his body right behind you and for a split second you think that you’re going to miss it. But you shake this feeling off.
You stop, then hear how he opens the apartment door. The cool air from the hallway hits your skin and you shiver a little. Silently, you two walk down the staircase, his hand wrapped around your biceps to keep your from tripping and falling, potentially breaking your neck. When you eventually reach the ground floor, he stops and you hear the faint tapping sound of his finger on the screen of his phone. The you wait. Probably for the car that’ll take you.
While you are waiting, a new question starts creeping up in the back of your mind. You turn your head to where you think he is standing.
“Can I ask you something?” he shifts next to you.
“What is it?” You take a deep breath.
“How long have you known?” silence. Then,
“known what?””
“That I could go home today.” Again, silence. This time longer. You’re afraid he wouldn’t answer, when he starts speaking again.
“Got a call the morning after the incident with the construction worker.”
Incident.
Your head starts to spin at the realization; you feel hot and cold at the same time as it sinks in.
“So…all what happened…last night. It was all redundant?” you feel your throat tighten and you clench your hands into fists, your nails dig into the palms of your hands.
“Can’t remember I requested it in the first place but I wouldn’t say it was redundant.” The amusement in his voice is a like a dagger to your heart.
He knew they would release you the next day. He knew there was no reason to hurt you. So, why did he still do it? Helplessness, despair, dread – everything comes crashing down over you while you try to comprehend everything. Just one more night. One more! And you would’ve been free without the shame and the guilt you are feeling right now. How could he?
You feel how he slowly pushes you forward, the engine of a car is running outside. But it doesn’t matter. You are spiraling into a seeming endless hole that is swallowing your whole being, promising to never let you go. From the distance, you can hear Sakazuki’s voice.
“Needless to say, you won’t mention a word to anyone. If you do, I’ve got some nice pics I’m sure the world would love to see.”
Hello everyone, here is the third chapter to this fic. Heed the warnings, this is not an easy chapter in my opinion.
Warning: 18+, mdni, coercion, du.b-con, n.on-con, character de*th
Pairing: Yakazuki! Sakazuki x female reader
Word count: 12.8k
The air in the apartment feels wrong; you are sure he feels the same. He granted you to go to the bathroom after the incident, but the way he kept his distance was telling. You wanted to appear strong, to seem like it didn’t bother you what you just had done but in reality a piece of you had been broken the moment you had reached for his belt. You threw up in the toilet, emptying the entire content of your stomach into the ceramic bowl. What you saw disgusted you. The evidence was mixed with the small amount of food you had consumed, the white in stark contrast to the otherwise brownish color. It made you gag even more. You could feel his eyes on you, even though the closed door. Your whole body was trembling but you forced yourself to calm down and to show the man outside that the incident from before did not affect you as much as it actually did.
You’re lying in the bed, hands tied with minimal room to move or rest comfortably. Your face is wet from the silent tears, your body curled up into a ball, shivering as you try to force yourself to fall asleep. It is useless, however. The moment you close your eyes, you can see his member, you can feel how it slowly swells to its final form in your mouth, you can taste the salt on your tongue and how it slowly runs down your throat. Over and over and over and over. You feel dirty. Hell, you are dirty. A dirty whore who tried to appease her captor to save her own sorry ass from his wrath. You are pathetic.
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Sakazuki is in his car, driving aimlessly through the empty streets of Tokyo. Two of his subordinates are watching you. He didn’t tell them why he needed them to come take over for a moment; he doesn’t need to tell them. They merely have to obey. The grip on the steering wheel is tight, getting even tighter when he thinks back to you sucking him off. The tension you had temporarily sucked out of him now comes back, crashing down on him like a wave. Old anger is replaced by new anger, the source, however, is no you entirely. How dare you do something so bold, so…reckless? And how dare he be such a fucking degenerateand let you?! He’s not some stupid hormone driven teenager who can’t control his dick. He is fucking Akainu – a man who instills fear in his allies and enemies alike just with his mere presence. And yet, here he was, letting some dumb, spoiled brat catch him off guard with move like that. His jaw tightens. He can still feel the press of your tongue, the pull of your throat. The memory makes his stomach twist — not from guilt, but from disgust that it still makes his pulse jump.
His foot presses down on the accelerator, not minding the very few pedestrians that seem to be waiting for a taxi to take them back home because they missed the last train. Only when blue lights appear in his rear-view mirror does he slow down and eventually come to a stop at the side of the street. Shortly after, a police car parks behind him and two officers get out of the car. Sakazuki rolls down the window, his expression relaxed but the grip on the steering wheel tightens even more.
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Whenever he enters the room, you don’t dare to look at him. You keep your head low and your eyes directed on the floor when he leads you to the bathroom the next day. At one point during the night you had noticed two voices talking to each other outside the room and none of them sounded like Sakazuki. You had hoped that, for some reason, he didn’t feel comfortable enough around you anymore and told someone else to watch you. This gave you some kind of twisted satisfaction and you eventually managed to fall asleep. To your dismay, however, was Sakazuki the one who came into your room this morning, an unreadable expression on his face and a simple melon pan and water in his hands. Unceremoniously, he dropped it onto the bed before leaving immediately after.
It feels like the day is dragging on forever; he barely visits, even less than before and you are left alone with your thoughts and the arching of your body, especially your arms and shoulders from the uncomfortable position you are being kept in. Since you haven’t drunk much, the need to go to the toilet is also quite low, giving him even less reason to come to you. It’s not as if you wanted his company, but being all by yourself, your dark thoughts the only thing keeping you company – you start to long for some form of human interaction, even if it is just his disapproving grunts when he leads you to the toilet.
The human mind can be a cruel thing; no matter what you’re thinking about, you can’t help but start crying silently into the pillow. It doesn’t matter if you think about your current hopeless situation or back to the last time you talked to your mom, your dad, your friends, or your boyfriend. Tears of despair, anger, sadness – it doesn’t matter. In the end, you feel helpless and alone. And still, there is this small part inside of you that keeps pushing against your complete surrender to your situation and you’ll be damned if don’t keep this small flame alive.
Your eyes are red and burning when the door is opened the next time. You hide your face in the pillow and hope that Akainu would just leave whatever he brought on the bed, just like in the morning. To your surprise and shock, he wordlessly unties you – completely – and with a big hand around your biceps almost drags you off the bed and along the corridor. To your horror, he doesn’t lead you to the toilet but to the bathroom. Flashbacks from last night dance in front of your eyes, your body tenses and you instinctively resist, trying to wiggle your arm free from his vice grip. But it only leads to him grabbing your flesh even tighter before shoving you into the wet room.
“You smell. Clean yourself.” Is all he says before closes the door, leaving you alone in the brand new wet room. You stare at the door, eyes wide in fear and disbelief. Surely, he’ll come right back once you turn the water on, right? But you can hear his heavy footsteps walking away. Still, you don’t trust him. With shaky hands you open the door, your heart is hammering in your chest and you almost can’t hear anything else besides your heart beat. With trembling hands, you push the door slightly open to peek outside. Your eyes roam the empty hallway and you are ready to close the door again when you hear the quiet sound of a sliding door being opened and then closed again. Right, there is a balcony in the living room.
Without thinking, you sneak out of the wet room, body pressed flat against the wall behind you as you inch your way over to the living room. And there he is – outside on the balcony, a cigarette in one hand and an apparently new phone in the other. His fingers are swiftly tapping against the screen before he holds the phone to his ear, his back turned towards you and his body overlooking the city. You can’t believe what is happening. Your eyes dart over to the closed apartment door. Now, that you think about it, you never checked if the door was truly locked. It would be stupid, if not at least reckless of him to not have any precautions but maybe he underestimated you or overestimated himself.
You feel the small flame inside of you growing by the second, pushing you to take the risk and try your luck. What’s the worst that could happen? The door is locked. He sees you. He gets angry. He yells at you. He forces himself on you. But how would you feel if you didn’t try it? You hate this feeling of helplessness, of not being in control of your situation, of only reacting and not acting. For once since your abduction you want to feel like you have a choice; not one that was forced onto you by fear but one you made consciously and being fully aware of the consequences.
Your eyes dart back to the man outside who seems to be having an animated conversation with the recipient of this call. It is now or never. The door to the balcony is not completely shut, so you still need to be quiet. You take a deep breath, then you slowly put one foot in front of the other, one deliberate step after the other. Your eyes are trained on Sakazuki’s muscular back, not letting him out of your sight for a single second. The closer you get to the door, the more anxious you feel that he might spot you. Every moment, you are sure he will turn around and see you; he might even throw his phone at you to stop you. But he doesn’t.
Your right hand reaches for the cold door know, the other to the lock above it. Quietly, you unlock the door (thank God for those Japanese apartment doors that are very easy to unlock from the inside), then you twist the knob. The second lock in the know unlocks with a quiet metallic click, then the door opens. For a moment, you are stupefied. How could this be so easy? Idiot, you think to yourself as you look back to Sakazuki one final time before dashing out of the apartment and to your freedom.
The smell of a newly built building hits you even more than in the apartment as you run along the empty hallway towards the door you assume leads to the stairwell. You pass two elevators but they don’t seem to be working yet. Plus, you don’t know if Sakazuku will come sprinting out of the apartment at any moment so waiting for an elevator would be more than stupid. You swing the door open and luckily see the staircase that leads to both the lower and upper levels. With a quick look over your shoulder you confirm that he apparently hasn’t noticed you escaping yet, then you hurry down the steps, taking two steps at a time sometimes. You stumble every now and again but you manage to catch yourself, the adrenaline keeps you going even with your lungs burning from exhaustion.
You start at the tenth floor. By the time you reach the third floor, you can already smell freedom. You think about the first thing you will do once you’re out of here which will be to run straight to the police and get this motherfucker arrested. Fear for this man is replaced by schadenfreude when you think about the day he will be sentenced to prison and will never see the light of day as a free man ever again. Serves him right for what he did to you, for what he put you through.
You reach ground level and push the door open. The lobby of the building is spacious and long but empty. Without thinking, you dash across the marble floor towards the door. Locked. Your hands bang against the glass door but it wouldn’t break. Now slightly panicked, you look around and see another hallway. Next to the door is a small sign which tells you it leads to the underground garage. You have no choice but to try it. With heavy legs and exhaustion clawing at your body you jog into the dark corridor, one hand against the wall while the other is stretched out in front of you in case you are about to run into another wall.
It feels like forever until you finally make it into the garage. There is not artificial light but somewhere from the far end you can see a faint ray of light coming from presumably outside. If you are lucky, you can escape from here. You do not allow yourself to take a quick rest and you push your body forward towards the light – towards hope.
“Hey! Who are you?” you stumble over your own feet to the sound of that unfamiliar voice. For a moment, you want to turn around and run away from the approaching figure steps into your line of sight, most likely having entered through the garage ramp. The light of a flashlight hits your face and you squint your eyes at the sudden brightness. You raise your hands in defense but you are too exhausted to run away.
“What are you doing down here? This is a construction site. It’s dangerous!” the man reprimands you and it slowly sinks in that he must be one of the construction workers. You can’t say how relieved you are feeling when you are finally able to look into the unfamiliar face of this middle aged man with a grey helmet on. Without thinking, you jump into his arms and wrap your own around his neck, ugly-crying into his vest. Taken by surprise, he lets you, frozen in place and unable to comprehend what’s going on.
You thank him over and over again, your voice muffled by his clothes. A hesitant hand pats the back of your head and for a moment you imagine that he is your father who came to safe you.
“E-easy there, miss. What is going on?” there is audible hesitation in his voice while he gently tries to make you look at him. You look up, vision blurry from all the tears of relief and snot running down your nose.
“Please, we have to leave.” You press out, accompanied by small hiccups.
“Please, calm down, miss. Why do we have to leave?” he gently pushes you away from him to take a better look at you. His flashlight is directed at your torso so he doesn’t blind you but can take a closer look. He audibly gasps at your disheveled appearance but he tries to keep his shock to himself.
“T-there is a-a man in the building. He kid-kidnapped me and held me here. Please, we have to go!” you plead with him while you grab his arm and try to lead him towards the way he just came from. But he is hesitant and you lose your grip on his arm.
“Please! We have to go!”
You can’t see his face clearly but you can make out that he is contemplating what you are saying. Frustration and anger grow inside of you with every second he waits. Why was he not believing you? You take a step back, ready to run even without him, one last pleading look in your eyes. You watch him shift, his head tilting to the side just a bit, then –
BANG.
Your whole body jerks from the sound, the echo piercing marrow and bone. For a long moment, nothing happens. It is, as if the world stands still. Your head is empty except for the resounding bang that settles down like an unwelcome, creepy uncle at family dinner. It gives you the chills and the feeling that something awful just happened settles in. You didn’t know you were holding your breath but you are suddenly awoken from your stupor when his body hits the ground with a dull thud, the flashlight rolling out of his hand, the beam of light dancing along the concrete floor.
You scream. At least you think you are. Your mouth is open but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are trained on the lifeless body in front of you, the flashlight partially illuminating the man’s face. A small trickle of blood is running down his face and drips onto the concrete, the lifeless eyes open, starring right at the ceiling with the same confusion in them from when he saw the person behind you.
A big hand is wrapped around your mouth and you are pressed against an iron hard body. Nails dig into your cheeks and moist breath tickles your ear.
“Look what you did,” he sounds angry, furious even. He is trying to contain his anger but it is radiating off of him like radioactive material. You struggle against his iron grip but his nails dig into your flesh even angrier as if they wanted to pierce you.
Sakazuki shifts behind you; the metallic sound of a gun being shoved back into his waistband has your blood run cold. He shot someone. He killed a man! An innocent man who had nothing to do with everything! Dread spreads through your body as realization hits you. “Look what you did.”
Yes, you did this. He is dead because of you. You killed him. If you just hadn’t approached him and just kept running, if you just hadn’t gone to the garage in the first place and tried to break the glass of the front door instead, if you just hadn’t tried to escape in the first place, this man would still be alive.
Sakazuki lets go of your face and roughly twists your arms behind your back. You are too far gone to resist and so you let him handcuff you again, the cold metal being unnecessarily tight around your wrists and dig into your already abused skin. His vice-claw like hand grabs the back of your neck and he almost forcefully has to drag you away from the body.
“Don’t even try to make a fuss, missy. Believe me, I’ll put you there with him.” He means it. You can feel it to your bone. You messed up. You had your chance, you screwed up royally and now you have to live with the consequences, whatever they might be.
He leads you to the ramp leading outside but stops at the bottom. Sakazuki checks his phone for service before dialing a number. He doesn’t say much. Just the address (though you are too scared to even try and remember a single number) and where they should go. He ends it with “clean up everything; body, car, everything you can find,” then he hangs up.
.
.
.
You have completely misjudged this man. Sure, his anger was scary enough but in your sheltered little mind have you never really thought about him being able to kill someone, let alone you. But now, you are more terrified than ever. The image of the construction worker – his limp body, the blood, and dead eyes – is haunting you. But what’s worse is the guilt you feel. You are the reason this good man is dead. Does he have a wife? Children? What will they do now that he is gone? Will they even know what happened or will he just be another missing person?
Sakazuki shoves you back into the apartment and slams the door shut behind him, his hand never leaving your neck, his nails digging into your soft skin just like before. You feel somewhat light-headed; the pressure is making it difficult for your blood to reach your brain. He only notices it whenever you are about to pass out on the way, then his grip eases just the tiniest bit to keep you awake.
Back in your room, he shoves you onto the bed. There is silence for a moment, you don’t dare to turn around, let alone look at him. But he breaks this silence with his gruff voice.
“Look at me,” he demands. You don’t want to; you can’t stomach to look at the man who could kill another person just like that without a second thought. His impatient exhale through his nose forces you to turn your head towards him regardless.
Slap.
Stunned, you can only look at him with wide eyes, lips slightly agape but no sound is leaving them. The hot burn slowly spreads across your cheek. The sound was far from the one the gun made in the garage but the echo still rings in your ears. The first thing that comes to your mind after he just slapped you is humiliation. It wasn’t a particularly hard slap (though it still hurt) nor do you think it will leave a lasting mark but just the fact that he slapped you like a pimp his whores has new tears welling up in your eyes. And you can’t even put a hand against your cheek to soothe the pain since both your hands are still tied behind your back.
Without another word, he grabs your hair and pulls you towards the head of the bed, leaving you in a sitting position as he somewhat clumsily ties your tied hands back to the bed, this time not giving you another option but to sit there, with your arms twisted behind your back and no room to move or adjust your position. Then, he leaves.
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.
.
He doesn’t trust you anymore. Not, that he trusted you in the first place, but now he trusts you even less. You have no privacy, not even when you go to the toilet or when he has you take a shower; he is always there. He isn’t outright watching you but you still feel naked even with his back turned towards you. And even then, you can feel how he looks over to you every now and then to make sure you are not doing anything stupid, especially since, in these situations, your hands are untied. Why he lets you take a shower in the first place is beyond you but you suppose you must smell pretty badly. Not that you care, anyway. He even placed a single chair next to your bed to feed you like an animal, not allowing you the freedom to move or even do it yourself. It is humiliating, degrading and downright disgusting. But you are too scared to say anything. The fear of ending up like that man has settled into your body and won’t let you go. Every encounter with him you survive is a win for you.
The incident happened on the fourth night, the killing the day after. It is now the sixth day being prisoned by him – by the yakuza – and you are at your end. Everything hurts; your body feels numb from all the awkward sitting you had to do, your shoulders are strained, and your hands fall numb whenever you don’t move them for a longer time. He can see that you are in discomfort, that you are almost at your breaking point. He doesn’t care. You have used up what little patience he had left with you the moment you stepped outside this apartment. You are defeated. Or so you think.
Sakazuki enters your room for what might be the final time for the day. The usual sight of the melon pan and bread makes you feel nauseous; if you came out of this alive you swear you would never touch one of those disgusting melon pans ever again. He settles down on his chair and without saying a word he rips open the plastic wrap and holds the sweet bread in front of your mouth. You hesitate, but eventually open your mouth in defeat and take a small bite from the pastry. You are sick of the taste so you chew slowly. To your surprise, he doesn’t reprimand you to eat faster; he simply sits there and watches you eat.
As much as you fear, no, hate him, as much have you become accustomed to his presence. You are trapped here in this room all by yourself probably 23 hours a day, with him only coming once every couple of hours. So, naturally, he is also the only source of human contact you can get. It feels lonely in here and though you would never admit it, even someone like Akainu can become a constant in your life, given the circumstances.
You take another bite and secretly watch him. He is leaning forward, both elbows resting on his legs while he watches you in return; he looks tired and his shoulders seem to be tense. A small spark of schadenfreude fills you at the thought that he has stress because of you, even when you are tied up. Throughout the day you heard him talking on the phone to various people, each time getting seemingly more agitated. But now, he just looks…exhausted. Must be hard to be heartless gangster….
He shifts in his seat and cracks his neck, reminding you of your own uncomfortable situation. You try to shift yourself but to very little avail. You contemplate in your mind what you should do, fear and courage having a battle in your heart but ultimately courage wins. You take a deep breath in and raise your head to face him head on.
“C-could you please….untie me? It hurts.” There is silence and your heart skips a beat. Then a single “no” crushes your hopes. You press your lips together when he lightly pushes the bread against them, but then you take another bite. While you are chewing, you think back to two nights ago. The images still haunt you, not only in your sleep but also when you are awake though the cold-blooded murder has taken over a big chunk of your thoughts. Now, that you think about it, he seemed to be more lenient afterwards; he even told you to take a shower and he left you alone, not like the second time. It was your own stupidity that led you in this situation.
You feel how your throat starts to tighten and it seems harder to breathe. Your ears and neck start to prickle at just the mere thoughts you are thinking right now. You look up at him again, your heart is racing in your chest.
“You must be tired.” It is a simple statement that obviously catches Sakazuki off guard. He is silent for a moment, then he tilts his head to the side.
“Now, why would you care if I was tired,” he asks. You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating if you should elaborate or just leave it at that.
“I could give you…a massage. My…my boyfriend said I give good back massages.” You are not sure why you mention your boyfriend but it earns you an amused huff from the man in front of you.
“Well, if your boyfriend said it, it must be true, right?” Sakazuki leans back in his chair, thick thighs slightly spread as he scrutinizes you. Your face heats up and you avert your gaze.
“It was merely a suggestion,” you mumble, humiliation burning on your cheeks.
The tension between you two thickens until it is almost suffocating you. Sakazuki doesn’t reply, he doesn’t even move. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see his eyes piercing you like daggers trying to pry open your brain and listen in to your thoughts. You want to sink into a hole and die there out of sheer embarrassment from what you just said. Sure, you didn’t say anything inappropriate, really, but Sakazuki is not stupid. Judging by the shift of his muscles underneath the shirt you know he is even more tense than before. He knows the insinuation of your suggestion, even without you having to spell it out for him. There is also always the sense of deniability, that you never meant to offer him that. But the fact he hasn’t put you in your place makes your heart race in your chest and the blood is rushing in your ears.
You wet your lips, licking away the sugar from the bread in the process and tasting the sweet on your tongue. You hear him exhale through his nose once, then, without another word, he leans back forward, places the rest of the melon bread next to you, pulls out a small key from his trouser pants and unclicks the handcuffs around your wrists. You flinch at the contact of skin on skin when his hand grabs one of your wrists to get better access to the cuffs but you stay silent. Once the cuffs are undone, he leans back in his seat slowly, his eyes never leaving you, and places both of his hands on his massive thighs.
You wince when you pull your arms forward and stretch them, but it feels good to be able to move them again without any restraints. You try to ignore his gaze while you massage your own shoulders – first the right one then the left one. The strain on your joints had become almost unbearable and it takes you a while to get used to the freedom again. However, in the back of your mind your proposal is ever so present. You offered him a massage. You wonder if he is truly expecting one or if he is under the assumption that you just said it to get him to unlock the handcuffs. You want to just ignore him, use up what little time of freedom he gave you before he gets tired of it and ties your hands back again.
You shift uncomfortably on the bed, your eyes shift to the half eaten melon pan next to you. Maybe you should start eating that thing before you do anything else. It’d be reasonable, wouldn’t it? For you to first finish eating. But is Sakazuki a reasonable person? Honestly, after yesterday, you don’t know. He is a dangerous man but ever since yesterday he is more than that – he is a monster. Or so you tell yourself.
Then why do you catch yourself slowly inching off the bed? You don’t dare to look up but out of the corner of your eyes you can see both his hands clench into fists to the point where his knuckles turn white. You take a deep, silent breath in before you push yourself off the bed and with your head low you slowly make yourself around his chair until you stand behind him. Even when sitting is he almost as tall as you. He turns his head slightly to keep you in his peripheral vision but he doesn’t stop you. You are unsure of what to do even though you know what you are supposed to do. This is just surreal. Why doesn’t he stop you? Even when your hands reach out for his shoulder, hesitantly placing them against his body. You can feel his muscles tense under your palms but he still doesn’t stop you.
You take another deep breath in before you let your thumbs dig into the hard tissue, feeling the small knots underneath his skin. You weren’t lying when you said your boyfriend liked your massages. When you were younger, you often helped your mother relax after a stressful day by giving her a back massage. She never asked you for it but you wanted to do something for her. A weird thing for a child to do, now that you think about it. Nowadays your boyfriend is the one who benefits from this the most.
Your hands move along the knots – one at a time – but you make sure to stay clear of any ‘critical’ area; you don’t go too low nor do you move beyond his shoulders towards his chest area. You strictly keep to his shoulders and upper back. While your fingers dig into his skin you notice just how trained he is. Even the muscles in his neck seem to be able to pull a car if he so chooses to. You don’t know his age but suppose he’s around fifty. For a man his age he takes good care of his body. It still doesn’t change the fact that you would much rather be anywhere else but here.
Caught up in your own thoughts you notice too late when he lifts his hand and grabs your right hand a little too roughly. Instinctively, you try to jerk away but his grip doesn’t budge. You stare at the back of his head, your heart is hammering in your chest while your free hand unconsciously digs deeper into his shoulder. He doesn’t say a word; he doesn’t need to. The heat he radiates seems to have gotten hotter to the point where it feels like it is almost burning your skin. He readjusts his position a little, spreading his legs just a tiny bit wider and the grip around your wrists eases though he doesn’t release you.
You know what he wants, what he expects of you but he doesn’t force you. You wonder if he’d let you be if you just crawled back on the bed and tell him to leave. He didn’t force himself onto you the last time and he hasn’t done it just yet so maybe you could get out of this without a scratch and your dignity still intact. You carefully pull your hand out from his grip, his calloused hand leaving goosebumps where it grazes against your skin. You should walk past him, you should get back on the bed, quickly finish the bread and let him tie you up again and leave you alone. So many “shoulds”.
Your head starts spinning when your knees hit the floor, his legs caging you like a trapped animal. You dare to take a quick look at him, the surprise of your action very visible on his face. Obviously, he did not think you’d do it, confirming your suspicion that he would’ve left you alone if you had told him no. But you didn’t. Even now you don’t do the logical thing and get up again, rather the contrary. Your eyes shift back to what is right in front of you. You wonder if the bulge in front of you is a natural reaction to your massage. Maybe he wanted you to stop because he was getting too bothered by it, maybe it wasn’t a demand to “help him out” after all but to simply get his body back under control. Now, you feel stupid and ashamed and dirty for thinking that’s what he wanted. So, you just kneel there, face hot and hands clenched into fists at your side.
A big hand grabs your chin and you are forced to look up at him again. He stares right into your eyes; there is a battle going on behind his brown eyes, you can tell. You just don’t know what the fight is about.
His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and slightly pulls it down. You let him, tasting the salt on his skin, too scared to push him away. His jaw clenches and his free hand massages the bridge of his nose. While he closes his eyes for a moment to think, you let your eyes dart back down to his crotch. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him shift ever so slightly to find a more comfortable position. The fabric of his pants stretches seemingly uncomfortably across his restraint member.
You count to three mentally, then you place your hands on his thighs. His eyes snap open and the grip around your chin tightens. Your body tenses for a moment, then you let your hands wander closer to his crotch. They tremble when they reach their destination. He is hot underneath the fabric and twitches slightly under your touch. He lets go of you and simply stares at you in disbelief while you clumsily open his pants. It is difficult to pull them down to the point where you can pull him out but when you do your face heats up once more.
.
When you wrap your lips around his dick it is not different to last time. The warmth of your wet cave envelopes him and lulls him into this false sense to relax for a moment. But he can’t. Never completely. There is always one part of his brain working, even while being pleasured by a woman more than half his age. Your right hand is stroking the base of his dick while the other one claws at his thigh for support. Your eyes are closed while you move your head up and down, your quiet pants mix together with the wet sound your mouth makes. He wonders why you’re doing this. Sure, you’re scared for your life, especially after he shot that guy. But no rational person would come to the conclusion that sucking off their kidnapper was a smart idea. But then again, the emphasis is on the word rational. You, however, are not rational at the moment. He can’t blame you. Being kidnapped, witnessing a murder, getting intimate with him, however the circumstances, and all in the span of a week. No wonder you resorted to the one thing that made him relax the last time.
His hips jerk upwards involuntarily and you choke around him. Tears gather in your eyes but you don’t stop.
“Good girl,” he mumbles under his breath while he brushes some lose strands of hair out of your face. You lift your eyes to look up at him, holding his gaze while your movements become slower until you halt completely. He looks down at you while you look up at him, his cock buried deep in your mouth. You tense when he lifts his hand and places it on top of your head. His nails scrape over your skull lightly before he encourages you with a slight tug at your hair to continue.
.
You break the eye contact, too embarrassed to keep looking at the man you are currently giving head and instead close your eyes. You want to focus on something else – anything, really – but the sheer size of him in your mouth makes it almost impossible. When you started, you weren’t even sure if he liked it. He doesn’t make a single sound beside the occasional hiss. As sick as it sounds but when he encouraged you to keep going just now, your heart skipped a tiny bit. You chide yourself for this reaction but you guess it is better than being reprimanded for being terrible at it.
The hand on your head tightens into a fist every now and then, pulling at your hair in the process but other than that he is surprisingly….passive. You don’t know what to make of it. It’s not that you are complaining about it but it makes you feel uneasy. If you were to compare him with your boyfriend you could see a huge difference in their behavior. Whereas your boyfriend is more vocal, more relaxed, Sakazuki is controlled and tense. You don’t know why, but it creates a queasy feeling in your stomach. The way his eyes are on you the entire time; you can feel them even if you can’t see them. You are like a prey trying to amuse the predator so he doesn’t eat you alive.
The strain on your jaw keeps growing and your tongue is going numb. After last time, you had hoped it would be over rather quickly too, but apparently, he has more self-control this time. You don’t want to think about the possibility that he wants to drag this out as much as possible. Or what if, after all, you’re not good enough? What if he gets bored of your technique? Should you up your game? But he is already hard to swallow as it is, you can’t do much more. Your fingers dig into his thigh as panic and anxiousness start to settle in. You need to do more. You need to please him. This man killed someone for no reason, what if he does the same to you?
You don’t notice how your hand around the base of his dick tightens to the point where a low growl rumbles in his chest and the first in your hair tightens as a warning.
“Careful there.” His voice is deep, warning you with a dangerous edge in it. You loosen your grip immediately and open your eyes. You move your head back and slowly let his dick leave your mouth until only his tip is between your lips. Your tongue swirls over the slit before you release it, his precum smearing against your lips.
Sakazuki’s eyebrows knit together in confusion because you stopped. For a moment, you just sit there, his wet member right in front of your face, your hand still around his base, lazily stroking him, his hand weighing heavy on your head, while you muster up the courage to take the next step.
.
You let go of his dick. Slightly displeased, he grumbles in response. You tense, but after taking in a quick breath, you push yourself up, using his thighs for support. His hand glides down from your head and back on his thigh while you raise up to your full height, now being slightly taller than him. You don’t look at him, your eyes are averted to the side and your hands nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Are you really just going to stop and leave him like this? The audacity leaves him angry and impressed at the same time. He wouldn’t have thought you’d have the gall to do that but apparently, he was wrong. His teeth start to grind in frustration and he is ready to tie you back to the bed again right here and now. He halts. Then, his eyes grow even wider than before.
.
You can feel his frustration with you when you just leave him hanging like this; it radiates off of him like poisonous gas, ready to suffocate you. But what you do next blows away this gas at once and you are met with disbelief. Your hands find the hem of your shirt and before you can change your mind, you pull it up and over your head, letting it drop down to the floor where it will be forgotten. You don’t dare to look into his eyes; the shame is painfully obvious in your face anyway and you don’t need nor want to see his closer reaction; at best it could be amusement, at worst….
Almost frantically, you open the button of your pants and pull them down, awkwardly stepping out of each leg and kicking the trousers to the side as well where they join your shirt. Out of your peripheral vision, you can see him shift, his gaze burning into your exposed skin like a torch. You close your eyes to compose yourself, before you hesitantly reach behind your back and unclasp the bra. With a trembling hand, you hold the fabric in place while your free arm slips out of it, you then change hands and do the same with the other side. It takes all your courage to let go of the last piece of clothes that is covering your upper body but you force your hand to open and so, your bra drops to your feet. Your arms are covering your bare chest and you can feel tears dwelling up in your eyes. There is only one thing left.
Your head is spinning when you carefully remove your arms from your chest, exposing your breasts to the man in front of you. You don’t want to – you really don’t – but your hands, instead, find the waistband of your panties. Your fingers slip between the fabric but you can’t bring yourself to bare your body to him completely. This is the last bit of privacy that is left. Revealing your most intimate part, showing him yourself in your most vulnerable form seems like a betrayal on yourself.
You exhale when you feel your panties sliding down your legs. Now, it’s too late. There is no going back. You pause, then, your eyes find his. He doesn’t look amused. He doesn’t look angry either. He looks concentrated but there is this undeniable heat in his gaze that makes you shiver. He is sitting straight on his chair, his right hand is absentmindedly stroking his thigh while the other is clenched into a fist. His lips are pressed together tightly and you can see his jaw working underneath the tissue. The longer he just stares into your eyes, the more uncomfortable you feel. You want to yell at him to say something or to take your clothes and quickly dress yourself again but you are like a deer in headlight, completely unable to move.
It shouldn’t feel this way, but it somewhat comes as a relief when he finally breaks eye contact. This feeling of relief is quickly replaced with unease, however, when his eyes start to take in every single inch of your exposed body. His gaze leaves a prickling trail on your skin, starting with your neck, your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach until finally your exposed womanhood. His eyes linger there longer than you would’ve liked and you have the urge to cover yourself.
You almost stumble over your own feet when Sakazuki finally moves. His massive body is set in motion when he slowly heaves himself off the chair into a standing position. He is towering over you, his own body only a couple of centimeters away from yours. You don’t plan on looking at him but your body moves on its own when you crane your neck to look up at him. His eyes are hooded and his pupils are blown wide. You know what this means. You woke the sleeping lion and now he is here to consume you.
You swallow hard when Sakazuki takes a step forward; you instinctively take a step back. Then, another step forward from him, another step back from you. Until you bump against the bed with the back of your leg. His hands reach up to his own shirt. You can’t help but watch as he opens each button deliberately, revealing more and more skin before he lets the shirt fall to the floor. Your eyes are wide at the sight.
You haven’t thought about it before, especially since his body has always been covered by his clothes but it makes sense now that you see it. Tattoos. All over his body; starting at his collarbone and disappearing into the waistband of his pants. An ensemble of flowers, demons, waves and other symbols adorns his muscular body. Under different circumstances, you could’ve appreciated them more but right now it only showcases again that this man is not your friend.
You jerk involuntarily when you suddenly feel his warm touch against your skin on your hip. His hand is big and rough and it leaves a trail of gooseflesh wherever he touches. It travels up your side, only barely grazing against your breast, before it closes around your throat. Your breath hitches in fear when he presses down ever so slightly; not enough to choke but enough to make your heart race. Another terrifying thought crosses your mind. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he doesn’t find you attractive and now wants to end it? Maybe you have upset him with your audacity to assume he’d find you in any shape or form interesting?
With eyes wide open in fear, you look at the yakuza, holding your breath in the process. Then, he almost gently pushes you back, silently ordering you on the bed. You sit down, throat tight even though his hand is not around you anymore. Your eyes follow him slightly surprised when he suddenly leaves the room, leaving your sitting like this, naked and confused. What is he doing? Maybe he decided to call this whole thing off in the last second? But you are gravely disappointed when shortly after he returns, holding a small square piece of plastic in his hand. First, you are unsure what it is. Then, your eyes grow wide in disbelief at the realization.
.
He had bought the pack on a whim after his encounter with the cops the other night. Even while he was paying for them he felt stupid and agitated. What was he even thinking? He had plenty of those things at home – not that he used them particularly often, his desire for intercourse was fairly limited after all – but some small, nagging part of his mind told him better safe than sorry. Now, he was glad he bought them.
Judging by your face, you hadn’t even thought about protection when you started undressing for him. It was pretty reckless of you to just give him a blowjob in the first place, but full on intercourse with a man you don’t know? How naïve and childish of you. One more reason why he usually preferred more mature women.
He rips the plastic open and pull out the condom from the wrapper. He quickly looks at you, then nods to the bed.
“Lay down,” it’s the first thing he says in a long time and the monotone voice catches you off guard. You hesitate, but eventually slowly crawl onto the bed completely, your eyes never leaving him as he casually rolls the thin protective layer over his penis.
.
You feel incredibly stupid when you see him returning with a condom. Obviously, you did not consider the fact that protection might be warranted in a situation like this. But to your own defense, you had been preoccupied with other things, mainly survival. Then again, the more you think about it, the more disturbing the situation becomes. Why does he have condoms? Is it a coincidence or did he bring them “just in case”? The thought of him bringing them preemptively lets your stomach sink. Even more so when he tells you to lay down.
Cold sweat starts to cover your skin like a blanket while you slowly inch completely onto the bed, your eyes following the controlled movement of his hands while he rolls down the condom. His pants are still hanging from his hips though a little lower to have enough room for his dick. He lifts his gaze to meet your own while you are awkwardly sitting on the mattress. He tilts his head to the side, then, with the precision of a jaguar ready to jump its prey, he takes a step forward, then another, before he places one knee on the edge of the mattress. You can’t breathe, you can’t move. You can only watch as his other knee joins the first, one hand lazily stroking his member while his hooded eyes pull you into the void.
His aura alone forces you to sink back into the mattress, your eyes never leaving his while he is towering above you, one hand placed right next to your face while his other one moves from his member to your thigh. Your body jerks involuntarily to the touch of his almost burning hand on your skin. You feel helpless as he caresses the soft flesh and you squeeze your legs together instinctively. The small hair on your body stand up straight as a cold shudder runs up your spine. You suddenly feel very cold, a coldness that comes from within yourself that lets you shiver.
His hand travels upwards, his long fingers digging into your tissues as if they were trying to feel every millimeter of your soft body. His nails scrape over your butt and you close your eyes; you can’t endure his piercing gaze any longer, not while he is touching you. You tell yourself to calm down but the heart in your chest has other plans, ready to burst through your ribs and run off, far away from this place.
.
Sakazuki is not stupid; he can see that you are more than uncomfortable. And yet, you still haven’t told him to stop. Fear makes people do stupid, irrational things. For a moment, he wonders if you’d consider this rape.
You press your legs together, even tighter when you notice his hand traveling from your ass over your hipbone and closer and closer to the part of your body you so desperately try to hide. He watches your face closely as his finger slips between your thighs and finds the small nub. You gasp when he presses down, then makes slow, circling movements. There is a whole war going on inside of you; the side that wants to fight him, to push him away and be unbothered by him – your mind. Your body, on the other hand, is telling a different story. It’s simple biology, he’s aware of that, but when he feels the first drop of you coating his finger it makes his dick twitch. The way you must feel so conflicted right now while he, some old man, is making your pussy react to his ministration – it surely must be frustrating.
Now that he thinks about it, when was the last time he actually took his time with a woman? He’s not an entirely selfish lover but he prefers to get to the main part quickly to get it over with. Maybe he has become soft after all these years? Or maybe he just enjoys making you squirm…
He is taken by surprise when you all of a sudden grab his wrist, eyes wide with panic and stare right at him. He halts while his finger is partially buried between your lips. Is this too real for you now? Is this your breaking point?
“Wait!” your chest is heaving and he’s a little afraid you might pass out if you continue like this.
“You don’t want me to prepare you,” he asks dryly, now catching you off guard. Your face is flustered while you stammer a response.
“I…you…that- that’s not it.” He knows what you mean. But he has only that much patience and at one point you have to live with the consequences of your own actions. He’ll give you one last chance to end this but the beast inside of him is ready to burst out.
“Do you want me to stop?” you are stunned by this question and don’t know what to say. You just stare at him blankly. When you open your mouth, he presses his finger against your clit once more, eliciting a breathy moan from your small body. He knows it’s a dirty trick, but so what? He would stop if you told him to outright but that doesn’t mean that he won’t try to manipulate you. After all, a horny woman is a stupid woman and a stupid woman won’t say no.
.
You don’t want to be affected by him; you wish you could just tell him to leave you alone and rub one out in the toilet if he was that horny. But you can’t. You blame the fear of what he’d do to you if you told him that, indeed, you wanted him to stop. But in reality you can’t deny how your belly has been tingling since he started down there. You hate yourself for it and you curse yourself for even responding in the first place. You have read that this is a completely biological reaction but still – how could your own body betray you like this?
You feel the muscles in his forearm shift under his skin when he starts to rub your clit, smearing your juice over your skin and suddenly it seems incredibly difficult to have a coherent thought. Tears of frustration gather in the corner of your eyes as you battle with your own demons. You look at him desperately, hoping he would find it in his heart to stop himself, to just leave you alone and never speak of it again, but he doesn’t. Defeated, you slowly let go of his wrist and close your eyes before you open your legs ever so slightly. You hate yourself for it — and you hate that a tiny ripple of pleasure shivers down your thighs even as your throat tightens with shame.
Sakazuki has pushed your legs apart to get better access; two of his long, thick fingers are pumping into you while the heel of his hand presses against your clit. You don’t look at him, your head is turned to the side and your hands are grabbing the pillow for some sort of support while you can only listen to the wet sound your body makes in response to his ministration. You try to control yourself but you can’t help the occasional jerk of your hips against his touch nor the mewls of hot pleasure that make it past your closed lips.
You almost feel empty when he pulls out his fingers and you turn your head slightly to look at him. The first thing you notice is his penis, twitching and hanging heavy between his legs, neglected for far too long now. He smears your juice against your thigh, then, he grabs your hips with two strong hands and pulls you closer towards him. You swallow hard when he lines himself up with you, feeling the tip press against your swollen lips. You want to automatically push him away, but with his free hand he grabs both your wrists and pins your hands to the mattress above your head. You take in a deep, shaky breath as you brace yourself for the pain.
Sakazuki readjusts himself, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his massive body, then he slowly pushes against you entrance. You feel his grip around your wrists tightening as he spreads you open with his dick and your heat starts to envelope him. The fingers of his other hand dig into your hip to keep you and himself steady. Your own body tenses at the intrusion and you gasp for air. You look between your legs, watching how he slowly but relentlessly disappears inside of you, impaling you with his sheer size. With teary eyes, you try to find his gaze with yours but his are closed tightly, face tight and concentrated. He takes deep and deliberate breaths that tickle your sweaty skin. You wince when he bottoms out in you, his pelvis flush against your own. He pauses for a moment which gives you time to adjust to the foreign body inside of you.
You feel a small shock run through your body when he opens his eyes and looks at you; the heat and animalistic glint in them is almost scaring you. For a moment, you just stare at each other; then, he begins to move. Slowly, but deliberately, letting you feel every single inch of his member. Then, he pushes back in, the rough fabric of his pants scrap against the underside of your thighs, intensifying the feeling in your cunt more.
.
He can feel the resistance of your body when he pushes back in; your walls tighten out of discomfort around him though he can’t complain. Every thrust of his hips, every small gasp from your small frame lulls him deeper and deeper into comfortable soft cotton, letting him forget more and more of the stress that comes with his line of work. He angles his hips differently, adjusting his position to a more comfortable one and feels how your body is trying to inch away from him. He does not care.
Your body, so young, so soft, so compliant, so….enticing….he hates to admit it but youth does bring some advantages. His hips snap forward in a sharp angle and he can’t always hold back the deep grunts it forces out of his body. His hand slowly lets go of your wrists, traveling down your arms until it reaches your shoulder, then further down to your breasts. He watches as you seemingly can’t decide if you want to inch away from his touch or arch your back against it. They feel nice against his palms; he starts playing with one, particularly with your nipple which elicits a suppressed moan from your mouth. He likes the sound of it.
He pinches it between his fingers and in response you squeeze him tightly, forcing a breathy grunt from his lips which leads to a breathy chuckle. He leans down and lets his nose trail along your jawline before his lips ghost against the shell of your ear.
“Want me to be rougher?” you tighten around him again while you shake your head no vehemently. Liar. His breathing is heavy next to your ear while his hand joins his other one at the other side of your hips and pulls your roughly against him. Your legs press down around his waist and your heels dig into the small of his back. He thrusts into you again, this time forcing a choked sob out of your body. Something wet touches his face and he turns it to look at you.
You are clearly crying but at the same time your face can’t hide the lust you must be feeling right now. It surprises him that you are even able to feel pleasure from this but he doesn’t complain. The human body is a funny thing.
.
Your body is sending so many mixed signals to your brain that you can’t grasp a single thought right now. You hate it; hate everything he is doing to you but especially what he forces you to feel, forces your body into compliance. It hurts, he is not gentle but to your relief or horror you know he could be a lot worse. But would it really be bad if he was? Maybe then he wouldn’t force you to feel things you don’t want to feel, wouldn’t force your body to completely abandon yourself and become his little pleasure thing.
You bring your hands down between your own and his body, you want to push him away, even it is just a little but you are scared to touch him, to touch his bare chest, to touch his burning skin. You are scared that you might get burned yourself if you did.
His occasional grunts echo in your ears like the gun shot; they leave a petrifying feeling in every fiber of your being but at the same time they do something to your body that should be forbidden. The fire deep inside the pit of your stomach becomes bigger, hotter even and it forces your body to move against his. Though, once you notice, you stop yourself. Still, the mixture of pain, pleasure and humiliation is a poisonous drink that seems to infect the millions of nerve-ends in your system and fuel this fire even more.
You are suddenly flipped over onto your stomach, the pillow is swiftly shoved underneath your hips to lift your butt up a little. Both his hands dig into your hips and you feel the hot and heavy shaft of his dick glide between your cheeks, his hands spreading them while he does it. You panic, afraid he might use this hole now.
“Please….not there….” You whisper, almost not audible. You feel him lean over your body, his lips brushing the back of your head. If you were brave enough, you could now slam your head against his face. But you’re not.
“Please, not there,” you repeat your request, your body tensing while you wait for his reply. His chuckle is deep behind you as he lets his thumb slip between your cheeks, circling that other hole.
“Not here, huh? What a shame.” His thumb moves lower to your wet womanhood, playing with your entrance before lining himself up with it once more. He straightens up for a better position. This time, he pushes himself inside without much consideration. The small, rough pubic hair scratch against your butt cheeks as he lays flush against your ass, his weight pressing you further into the mattress.
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He throws his head back when he starts moving again; now, that he is behind you he feels more comfortable to let a little loose. With each thrust, he pulls your hips back against his crotch, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, leaving angry red marks. A thin sheen of sweat is covering his body; his hips thrust forward in a rhythm only he knows. You pant, wince, mewl, and moan in response, your walls squeezing him tightly every now and again. His hand moves up from your hip, over your back, following your spine and to the nape of your neck. He leans forward and presses you further down into the mattress, all while he increases his pace.
His occasional grunts mixed with the slapping of skin on skin as well as your muffled sounds fill the room and the smell of sex is in the air. The bed is moving with his thrusts and bumps against the wall; if there had been any neighbors, they’d know what the two of you were doing right now. But there are none. There are only you and him in this entire building.
.
He leans down, his body covering yours completely. It is too much skin on skin contact but there is no way you can shake him off. His damp breath mixes with the sweat on your skin; his left arm is places next to your head for support while his right hand lets go of your neck and instead moves down along your ribcage and underneath your body and between your legs. You tense when you feel his fingers find the little nub once again and start to caress it.
You want to suppress it, you really do but the moan that leaves your body is primal and doesn’t sound like your own. He also seems surprised by your reaction but then simply continues. You hate how much your body is reacting to this, how it wants to lean into his touch, his thrusts – him – for more of this feeling. Oh, how easy it could be if you didn’t feel this way. But even the rational part of your brain couldn’t deny the fact that he was making you feel good in a twisted way. You can’t deny how every new grunt against your ear, every press of his thumb against your clit, every inch of his cock makes you lose a little more of yourself in pleasure. You don’t want that.
He angles his hips slightly different and another moan leaves your body. Your hand comes down between the pillow and your body and grabs his wrist once more but he is not deterred. It feels like your vagina is on fire now as well; with each new thrust, with every circle against your nub, he forces your body a little closer to the edge. You pant and moan, trying to pry his hand away from your clit but he ignores it. You squirm underneath his heavy body, your hips move against him and his hand, your body is starting to chase the much anticipated high.
“No…please don’t…!” you force yourself to say, voice broken and on the verge of desperattion. Your body is writhing underneath his, muscles tensing to force yourself to not give in. Sakazuki huffs in what seems to be amusement, his lips find the shell of your ear.
“Why,” he breathes, finger pressing against you.
“You don’t like it?” A sharp thrust. “Or this?” Another thrust. You sob, but it is mixed with a moan.
“I’ve been balls deep inside of you this whole time,” despite the situation, his voice sounds calm. “You’ve let me fuck you so well – might as well give yourself a little reward for your sacrifice.” He kisses away one of your tears almost mockingly.
“Do you feel how wet you are for me? Can you feel me inside you, stretching you…does it feel good when I move this deep?” Another quick thrust, another moan from you in response.
“Or does it hurt?” he pinches your clit. You scream a high-pitched scream that is a mix between pain and pleasure.
“I can feel every inch of you, every squeeze around me….so soft, so….” He presses his lips against your head “…tight.”.
Your body is shuddering with every single word of his and you are overwhelmed by your own emotions. Your nails dig into his skin while you simultaneously try to push him away and press him closer.
“Why….do you care so much….,” you press out, a last ditch effort to prevent the inevitable.
“I can feel how your body reacts….why would I deny you something that feels so good?” He is mocking you; mocking your body’s reaction, mocking the predicament you are in.
“Fucking….old….pervert…..” you hiss. Sakazuki chuckles and his arm slowly snakes underneath your neck, his forearm pressing against your throat and pulling your body closer against his own. He is not choking you but you feel suffocated nonetheless. Your free hand now claws at his forearm and tries to pry him off of you. To no avail.
“And yet you are squeezing the cock of this fucking old pervert like a bitch in heat.”
His movements don’t follow any specific rhythm anymore; it is purely animalistic, there are no restraints. With a swift move, he pulls your entire body upright with his arm around your neck and into a kneeling position. His hand between your legs is almost frantic while his hips snap upwards into you. Your body has completely submitted to him and the only thing you are able to do is claw hat his forearm around your throat for support. Your eyes are tightly closed and your lips are agape while your head lulls back against his chest while your body is preparing for the avalanche that is about to steamroll right over you.
Every nerve in your body is hyper-aware of every single touch, every single shift, every single thrust. It is building inside you like a fever that refuses to break – searing, inescapable, unbearable. You try to breathe it away, to wrestle it into silence, but every touch, every push coils tighter and tighter in your core. Your body no longer feels like your own and yet you feel everything.
And then it hits.
It tears through you with the force of a star exploding. Your breath catches on a helpless sound that sounds alien in your own ears. It is animalistic, not human. The world narrows to raw sensation. Your mind goes white-hot. Every muscle tightens, then breaks apart in waves of overwhelming release.
He is holding you tightly against his body, the heat almost unbearable for you but at the same time he is the only anchor you can cling to as your body shudders through the last ripples of the high he dragged you into.
Then, there is darkness and the empty void he lets you sink into.
Whelp, this ist part two of three from the Extortion fic. Be warned, it gets really, really dark in the end. There is nothing romantic about this chapter, and Sakazuki is simply a bad human being.
Warnings: 18+!, mdni!, psychological trauma, d.ub.con, n.non.con, "f**rced" BJ
Pairing: Yakuza! Sakazuki x female reader
Word count: 4.1k
Part One here
“I’m scared…Daddy…please help me.”
Your skin is smooth under his gloved hands, this much he can tell; he could appreciate it if the circumstances had been different. But under these circumstances it is anything but arousing. This is business, nothing more. A show; for you, for your father, for his bosses, for anyone who watches this little video. He knows you are scared of him, scared of what he might do to you, how far he could go. But Sakazuki has no intentions of raping you. He does have very little qualms when it comes to various criminal acts but one thing he does not see any appeal in is forcing himself onto women. This does not mean he feels bad about traumatizing you, however.
Your whimpering becomes louder when his hand travels underneath your shirt, his fingers following every little bump of your ribcage agonizingly slowly until they reach the wire of your bra. You squirm underneath him, calling out to your father as the fear of what must inevitably happen nestles in every fiber of your being. Sakazuki simply watches you through the small holes of his mask – the trademark mask that’s become famous over the decades and that’s been associated with the yakuza group he’s part of. He knows it strikes fear into the bones of anyone who sees it; it haunts the dreams of children and adults alike.
He leans down on you, his weight pressing your body harder into the mattress and the cool plastic of the dog mask grazes the side of your face. You freeze, eyes wide open in fear, pupils blown wide, waiting for what will come next. His pelvis is pressing against your soft bottom; he is not hard but he doubts you’ll notice this, too preoccupied with the threat of violence alone through this gesture. You whisper a silent “please” only he can hear but it doesn’t reach his heart.
Your pleas grow louder when his fingers probe alongside your bra, testing the resistance of it as he tries to nudge one finger between your skin and the wire. He can feel the soft underside of your right breast, the tip barely gracing it but he won’t go further. With a grunt he retrieves his hand and sits up straight again, his other hand slowly releasing your hair as well, then, he gets up and walks over to the phone and stops the video, leaving you a crying, sobbing mess. He turns his head to look at you; you are dry heaving and gasping for air but apparently your stomach is empty. Probably haven’t eaten anything today yet. Maybe he should bring you something later when you’ve calmed down.
“Put your pants back on.” He tells you in his cold voice while he packs up the tripod and phone, then unlocks and opens the door to stow away the items. He opens a chat on a messenger app and sends the video. Now, his part is done for now and this means waiting for further instructions. He sees the small check indicating that the video has been received, then he turns off the phone, stowing it away in a bag from where he retrieves another phone. A quick look at the screen tells him he has two missed calls. He’ll call back when he has you tied to the bad again.
Sakazuki walks back to your room purposefully and finds you curled up in a corner, pants back up and arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You shriek when he takes two long strides over to you, grabs you again by your biceps and shoves you rudely back onto the bed. He contemplates to just tie you back to the bed by force but decides to give you a chance to comply.
“Put your hands back up.” He orders, his tone leaving no room to argue. With slight hesitation and fearful eyes, you eventually do as he says and without any issues he ties the chain of the cuffs back to the bedpost. He ignores your trembling hands, there is nothing he can or wants to do about that.
“Smart girl,” he praises you but the sarcastic tone in his voice is not lost on you. Yet, you keep your mouth shut, your eyes on him like a prey watching a predator. Without saying another word, he turns around and leaves your room again, mentally already at the phone call he is about to make.
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You wake up from a nightmare with a scream; you can still feel the haunting touches on your body, how they grabbed you, how they ravage your skin with claws, their jaws tearing at your flesh, faceless monsters that threaten to devour you wholly.
The room is dark, not even the street lights reach your room, the stars are covered by thick clouds and the rain is hammering against the window.
It takes a moment for you to realize where you are but the cuffs around your wrists quickly remind you of the horror you had to endure.
There is silence; no sound reaches your ears from beyond the closed bedroom door but there is a small ray of light coming through the space underneath the door.
You face feels wet and sticky and you are sure that you’ve been crying in your sleep. It was a miracle you even managed to fall asleep in the first place but your body must’ve forced you into it as a reaction of all the stress. Your limbs feel stiff as you try to adjust your position and awkwardly sit up in the bed. You feel cold; there is no blanket nor a pillow nor seems to be any heating. You pull your legs to your torso to save some body heat but it is quite ineffective.
You wipe your face on your shoulder, trying to get rid of the itchy feeling of dried tears and snot from your skin, then blink a couple of times. Your eyes slowly start to get used to the darkness but it does nothing to help ease your churning mind. You lean your head against the wall and your hands grip your arms tightly, nails digging into your soft flesh. You feel helpless and alone and want nothing more than be at home with your parents, all of you cuddling together on the sofa as if this whole thing has never happened. But the reality is different. You have been kidnapped, humiliated, degraded, almost raped, and left to fend for yourself. You’ve never felt truly hopeless before but right now there is no other way to describe it. After all, being at the mercy of a man you do not know and who is a career criminal at that can only make you feel hopeless.
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The door opens and you expect Akainu to enter but you are surprised to be greeted by a tall, slender looking man. You can’t make out his face as the light from the hallway blinds you but he appears to be wearing glasses. Instinctively, you press your body closer to the wall, trying to create distance between you and the new threat.
“Oh my, what a tragic sight to behold.” He speaks slowly, almost dragging his words, as if this whole situation bores him. He slowly makes his way over to you, his hands holding a bottle of water with a straw and something else you can’t quite make out. The man sits down next to you nonchalantly and offers you the beverage. You look at him warily, waiting for him to say something, or rather to trick you and do god knows what to you. But he doesn’t.
“Hmm, are you not thirsty?” he asks genuinely surprised yet there is something in his tone you can’t quite pinpoint out that makes you feel uneasy. You are completely out of your depth, didn’t expect this at all. Where Akainu seemed to be impatient and easily annoyed does this man seem to be the complete opposite, without any care in the world. Speaking of, where is this monster who tormented you earlier, anyway? You cautiously look past the man to the empty corridor, expecting Akainu to appear any moment. The man doesn’t follow your gaze, he just cocks his head to the side, beverage still in hand in front of you.
“He had to go and take care of some business. I’ll keep you company in the meantime.”
Your eyes dart back to him, not believing him a single word. He gives you a bad feeling. You don’t know what exactly it is; maybe the way he talks or the way he behaves but you already know he is not someone to be trusted lightly. Regardless, you do feel thirsty, now that you see the water right in front of you. After a second of contemplation, you reach out for the water with your bound hands and almost Immedeatly start downing the liquid. You hear him chuckle at that but otherwise he remains silent for now. When you emptied it, he takes the empty bottle away and instead offers you a melonpan. You devour it almost greedily and when you finish it you are not nearly satisfied, your stomach protesting at the minimal amount of food you have given it, demanding more. Your tongue licks the sugar from your licks, trying to get every last particle of food.
“Seems like someone is hungry. Would you like another one?” Surprised by his question, you halt for a moment, then nod, not trusting your voice just yet. He grabs the wrapping paper, then stands up.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t want you to starve under my watch now, do I?” and with that, he saunters out of the room and along the hallway, leaving you confused but slightly more at ease there until his return.
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Akainu returns the next evening to your dismay. However shady the other man – you still don’t know his name – is, you prefer his company over Akainu’s. He even let you go to the toilet by yourself and did not tie you back to the bedpost, he didn’t even lock the door when he brought you back to the room. Either his head is in the clouds or he simply doesn’t care. Either way, you appreciate the small extra freedom he had given you. He even gave you a blanket when you asked him. He tried to have small talk with you; you feared that, if you did not give him at least a little, he could take everything away from you again. So, you remained polite yet distant, trying not to upset the man. He asked you about your studies, your personal life, your dreams and whatnot. What creeped you out, however, was how much he already knew about you. Whenever you tried to tell him a lie, he would correct you which made you wonder for how long they’ve been spying on you and your family. It left a nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach.
You are dozing on the bed, already haunted by the same dream of the monsters in your sleep when you hear the apartment door slam shut and angry yelling coming from outside the bedroom. You immediately sit up straight, body tense in fear as you try to listen what he is so furious about. You can only hear the occasional word but miss the whole picture. Apparently, his subordinates messed up and he had to clean up after them. You remain silent, not wanting to attract his attention and possibly re-directing his anger at you. Who knows what he’d do to you. Also, you do not want to lose your new-found “freedom” and have him tie you to the bed post again.
Your stomach sinks when you suddenly hear heavy footsteps approaching your room fast, then the door swings open and the monster of a man stands in the doorway. You freeze and hold your breath, hoping he’d simply overlook you but his eyes narrow. A second shadow appears behind him and Akainu looks at the other man.
“Why the fuck is she not tied to the bed, Borsalino?!” he yells, he clenches his fists as if he wants to throw some punches; either at Borsalino or you. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you don’t dare to make a sound, hoping Borsalino would defend you in some way.
“Oooh, now that you mention it. It must’ve slipped my mind.” He simply says, a lazy smile on his lips. Akainu’s hands twitch, ready to beat the living shit out of the other man. What shocks you the most, however, is the fact that Borsalino does not seem fazed in the slightest by Akainu’s reaction which makes you wonder how dangerous this man really is that he doesn’t seem to feel an ounce of fear in the face of this monster.
“Quit fucking around. I know you did it on purpose.” Akainu presses out but he does not attack the other man. Instead, he focuses his attention back on you which makes you whimper just from his stare.
“Don’t be so harsh, Sakazuki, she’s been behaving splendidly while you were gone. Haven’t you, dear?” the last question is directed at you but your throat feels like it’s being choked and you can’t seem to form a single word, not even nod.
“See how you’re scaring her? This is not very gentleman-like.” This is surreal; the way Borsalino seems to scold Sakazuki and how he still does not attack him. Either, they are good friends or Borsalino is just as much of a monster as Sakazuki.
“I told you to keep her restrained. Next time you disobey my orders there’ll be consequences.”
“Ooh, scary,” Borsalino raises his hands in mock-defeat but Akainu, despite being obviously furious with him, leaves it at that and instead marches over to you, grabs your handcuffs and ties you back to the bedpost. His brown eyes bore into you like drills and you feel how hot tears start to gather in your eyes. You can see it in his eyes that he wants to hurt you, hurt anyone really and you are glad he doesn’t for whatever reason. Without another word, he turns around and leaves the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
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Borsalino seems to have left after that night and you are mostly left alone which you appreciate. Every once in a while, Sakazuki comes to look after you, even giving you water and food and giving you some privacy on the toilet without asking. But there is this tension between the two of you that keeps you on edge. You can see that he is angry; he is like a volcano, ready to erupt and destroy everything in his path. You are certain that it only needs a little push – a small rock that accidentally falls into the crate – until his wrath comes down on whoever is in his proximity. You just hope it won’t be you that’ll be destroyed.
Whenever you see him, he spends a lot of time on his phone and each time his body tenses a little bit more. You are scared to ask him for food, for water, or to let you go to the toilet. Only when it becomes unbearable do you call for him. But besides being angry has he not done anything to you after your first night. You want to ask him what will happen to you, if he’ll let you free but you don’t, too scared to hear an answer you are not ready to hear.
Today marks the fourth night if you are correct. You dread every night anew, hoping your dreams won’t haunt you yet again though you know the beasts will come for you for the rest of your life. It is raining again and the sound of the rain drops tapping against your window makes you sleepy yet it also reminds you that you should go to the toilet before you go to sleep. You have no idea what time it is but you can still see the dim light from underneath the door shine into your room. Akainu is still awake. So, you call out for him.
It takes three attempts to get his attention; he opens the door annoyed and with his phone pressed against his ear, his eyes piercing you like a dagger. Without a word and due to what could be assumed to be your routine by now, he unties you and rudely shoves you towards the door. You stumble but catch yourself before you hurry to the toilet. He doesn’t follow you; he speaks to the other person on the phone, pacing through the apartment, his tone becoming gradually angrier. You don’t want to piss him off even more, so you hurry out right after you’re done. But you don’t see him; he is not in the hallway. You should simply go back to you room and wait for him there but curiosity gets the better of you.
You tippy-toe over the wooden floor and follow the sound of his voice. The hallway leads to a spacious yet unfurnished room which could potentially become a living room in the future. Akainu is standing with his back turned towards you as he rages on, berating whoever is on the other side of the line. The door to the apartment is to your right, about three steps. You contemplate if you could make it there without him noticing. You probably could given how preoccupied he is with the phone call. And then what? The door is probably locked and even if it isn’t, who says that you could actually run from him? The small light of hope that started to blossom in you is cruelly crushed by reality.
You take a step back, ready to go back to the room when your heel bumps against a bag you didn’t see before. Sakazuki spins around, his eyes land on you in an instant. You freeze like a deer in headlight and watch as his already angry face becomes even darker at the realization that he wasn’t paying attention to you. His grip on the phone tightens and with horror you watch as it crushes the device with seeming ease until he lets it fall to the floor.
You run back to your room as fast as you can, his heavy steps thundering through the apartment right behind you. You try to slam the door shut and push all your weight against it but he kicks the door open like it is nothing. You stumble forward and catch yourself on the bedframe before you climb onto it, hands held high in defense. You plead with him as he storms towards you, his breath heaving like an angry bull chasing a matador.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear,” you plea, bowing your head while you keep your hands above you, part as an apology and part as to protect yourself for any eventual punches. Sakazuki simply grabs both your hands in his and twists your wrists painfully, ready to snap some bones like he did with the phone. You scream in agony, looking at him through teary eyes, pleading for your life, apologizing for something that shouldn’t have been a crime in the first place.
He is yelling at you but you can’t hear a word. The only thing in your mind is the pain and your survival. There is no way to calm him down for you; your pleas fall onto deaf ears and his own rage seems to blind him completely. Deep down, you know you are not the cause of his anger. You are simply the catalyst, the small rock that was carelessly kicked into the volcano and now you have to live with the consequences, have to find a way to escape your impending destruction, no matter the cost.
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The stress and the bottled-up anger from the past couple of days, probably the past couple of months even, is now thrown directly at you. If he had been in a better mood, a better state of mind, a better whatever, he wouldn’t have attacked you, wouldn’t have let out his anger on you. But he isn’t. He is angry at his bosses for being incompetent, he is angry at his subordinates for messing up what should’ve been a simple task and for having him fix it, he is angry at Borsalino for never doing what he’s being told and he is angry at himself for letting all of this get to him, for not keeping a cool head. And then there is you; another nuisance he has to take care of because his bosses couldn’t even bribe the majority of politicians to do their bidding and now he and some others had to kidnap their family members, putting everyone at risk of exposure if one of the kidnapped decided to talk after their release after all. This could’ve all been avoided if they haven’t been so arrogant in the first place about their plan in the first place. For people who called themselves the Five Elders they sure as hell were quite stupid.
He looks down at you with contempt but his grip on your hands loosens a bit until he lets go completely. Your look at him as if he wanted to kill you any moment, the fear palpable in your eyes, in your whole body. And maybe he would’ve killed you and if it was just to let all the stress out. He isn’t stupid, however. It would bring more problems as it would solve them. He just needs an outlet for his rage but in his current situation he doesn’t know where to focus his anger at.
He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath in, trying to sort his thoughts before he does something stupid. That’s why he is taken by surprise when he suddenly feels a pair of hands fondling with his belt. His eyes snap open and he watches in disbelief as you open it, your trembling hands immediately after reaching for the button of his pants, opening it, followed by his fly. It is as if he’s in shock, all the anger is blown away by confusion and amazement. What are you doing? You fumble to take out his limp dick; there is nothing erotic, nothing enticing about the way you do it. It looks methodical, almost robotic and the question of why you’re doing this is answered almost immediately – you are trying to calm him down. Under the stress he’s been feeling he didn’t even consider the stress you are under. Not, that it changes anything, but he can somewhat understand where you might be coming from.
Your small hands wrap around the base of his dick while your tongue sheepishly peeks out from between your lips, testing the waters when you flick it against the tip. Your eyes dart up to his and he cocks his head to the side. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t know why he isn’t yelling at you. He can feel his blood rush slowly downwards, a reaction he cannot control. His hand finds the back of your head and he guides it. He watches as you take him in, your head bobbing forth and back, a steady rhythm that makes his muscles relax. He refrains from thrusting into your mouth, the occasional gag indication enough that he is already not a pleasant blowjob-experience for you. He wants to close his eyes, let all the stress from the past days, weeks, and months slowly wash from him but he can’t. Instead, he watches how small tears roll down your cheeks and disappear in the corners of your mouth where it is mixed with your saliva and him.
His hand on your head flexes as his muscles tense, followed by a wet swallowing-sound from you. He hears a muffled sob but doesn’t say anything. He lets go of you and you immediately inch back from him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Sakazuki closes his pants, his eyes resting on you. You don’t look at him; the shame, humiliation, and pain are visible nonetheless. He doesn’t feel bad for you. This was transactional, a transaction you offered. He simply accepted it, leaving you with the consequences.
Hey y'all. This is a new story I have been thinking about for a while now and finally found the motivation to post. I have to say, this is not for everyone and please look at the tags! This story will become gradually darker and darker so be warned :)
Anyways, for those who still want to read it, hope you enjoy!
Also, this is NOT a glorification of v**lence or a**ault or anything, just making this clear.
Warnings: 18+!, mdni!, n.sfw, dub.con, non.con, heavy themes
Pairings: Yakuza! Sakazuki x female reader
Word count: 3.5k
Part Two here
You are roughly shoved into a room, the itchy black fabric of the sack pulled over your head uncomfortable against your soft skin. You can’t see anything; no ounce of light can make its way through, keeping you in complete darkness. You try to stifle a sob when you are pushed onto what is obviously a bed, your tied hands can only barely catch your body before it hits the hard mattress. You hear shuffling behind you, expecting some kind of assault any moment. You awkwardly turn to your side, pulling your legs to your body to make yourself as small as possible.
You flinch when a big hand harshly grabs your upper arm, pulling your tied hands out towards the person. You try to resist, trying to pull your hands back to your body but the grip is like a vice claw – unforgiving like iron. But even through the fabric you can faintly make out the smell of cigar smoke, something you are all too familiar with from your father. Cold metal closes around your wrists – handcuffs, you deduce – before the rope that has been keeping your hands in place previously is being untied. The cuffs rustle when your arms are being pushed above your head, the short chain connecting the two cuffs is somehow fixated to the bedpost or something. It doesn’t really matter what it is though – you can’t move anyway.
You can’t stifle the next sob and your body is shaking, your captor not making a single sound, not even his breathing can be heard. But you can feel his eyes on you, feel his presence, too close to your comfort and definitely unsettling and disturbing. You don’t know who they are – though you suspect it is the same man from earlier – nor what he wants; he hasn’t said a single word ever since you were snatched on your way to class.
The silence stretches, threatening to suffocate you if it isn’t broken. You feel exposed, like a piece of meat on a platter, ready to be devoured by a predator you can’t see but know is there. You pull your legs back up to your upper body, again trying to make yourself as small as possible and to break the silence with the sound of your body shuffling on the surface of the mattress. Then, you can hear a huff, finally a reaction from your captor, and the sound of footsteps walking away from you, presumably towards the door. First, you feel relief when you hear the click of the door being closed; finally, alone. Then, it hits you; the whole situation suddenly comes crashing down on you like a waterfall and you can’t do anything but take it. The tears start streaming down your face, disappearing into the thick fabric of the sack. You clench your hands into fists as you can’t stop your hectic breathing, hyperventilating with no means to calm yourself. Your lungs tighten and it feels like you can’t take any oxygen in, your head is spinning and you fear you’ll consciousness. You pull on your restraints but when you realize it is useless, you start to rub your head against the mattress, trying to get the sack off your head. Every breath you try to take in, the fabric seems to get caught in your mouth which increases your panic. Sweat starts to mix in with your tears, fear has now an iron grip on your body. You sob uncontrollably as you realize that you can’t get rid of the sack covering your head.
You don’t even notice that you apparently have been screaming nor that the door is opened again and angry sounding footsteps approach the bed. Not even when the cover is being pulled from your head are you aware of the other person in the room with you. Your eyes are wide open but you can’t see anything, black dots are dancing in front of your eyes from the lack of oxygen, your mouth agape like a fish out of water as your body is convulsing on the bed. The only thought that is stuck in your head right now is that you are going to die.
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Ever since starting to study at the university of Tokyo, you had told your father that you did not wish to be taken to school by a driver. Your father, however, did not except this so you offered a compromise where you would be taken to school by a driver from your apartment but he’d drop you off one block away and you’d walk the last bit which takes around five minutes. To that, your father had agreed. This arrangement has been going well for the past two and half years and you were in your last semester of your bachelor’s degree of law. Top 10 in your grade with a promising future ahead once you also finished graduate school. Your father was more than proud of you, bragging to his colleagues about his lawyer daughter who was focusing on her studies and was not distracted by some boys in her class. Oh, if only he knew. You have been dating your boyfriend for almost two years; a science major who was now in graduate school and who was the best thing that has happened to you ever since starting your studies. Your driver has met him a couple of times before and you had to bribe him in order to keep his mouth shut. Apparently, he kept his word because even now your father seemed to be clueless about your relationship.
This morning, you were late. You didn’t hear the repeated calls from your driver announcing his arrival; only when he rang the bell to your apartment did you wake up. In a panic, you got ready and rushed downstairs, apologizing to him for making him wait. You took your place in the back seat and took out your phone, texting your boyfriend you’d meet him tonight after school.
At your usual drop off place, you got out of the car and hurried along the sidewalk. Your driver had offered to take you directly to your campus but you refused, thanked him, and then walked off. You texted your friend to save you a seat and got the confirmation reply within 20 seconds.
Your eyes caught the headlines of today’s newspaper: “A step closer to cracking down on organized crime”. Underneath was a picture of your father, looking all serious and proud. If only people knew what a goofball he was at home. You smiled to yourself, then stopped at a red traffic light, waiting for the signal to turn green. You took a quick look at your phone to check the time when you felt a light tab on your shoulder from behind.
Surprised, you turned your head to look at an elderly woman with a warm smile. It was rare in Tokyo to be talked to by strangers on the street unless they were touts so it took you a moment to realize what she wanted.
“Dear, I’d hate to bother you but I forgot my phone at home and I need to contact my son. I know it is rude but I am quite in the predicament here.” You didn’t have time but you felt bad for her; you always had a soft spot for older people, especially if they could be your grandparents. So, despite being under time pressure, you smiled and offered her your phone. She gladly accepted, “this is too kind of you. I’ll be quick.”
You watched as she started typing in a number but apparently, she had trouble so you offered to type the number in for her but she refused. Slightly annoyed but keeping your composure you watched her as she finally pressed the green button and held the phone to her ear. It took a moment before someone accepted the call.
“Yes, dear. I am at the corner where you agreed to pick me up but I can’t see you. Are you close?” The old lady started pacing a little while she was talking, even rounding the corner while the person on the other end seemed to be speaking. You sighed as you followed her, not wanting to lose her and your phone in the process. You tried to get her attention but she seemed to ignore you, instead looking around as if she was looking for someone. She took another couple of steps further down the almost empty street, her smile never wavering. Then, a car rounded the corner; a black van as far as you could see and she waved at the driver, then turned back to you.
“Thank you so much, dear. You’re a life saver.”
“No problem,” you extended your hand for your phone but she held on to it.
“Are you a university student?”, she asked instead and you simply nodded, irritation slowly starting to grow inside you at her obliviousness.
“Yes, and I am slightly in a hurry so I’d need my phone back, please.”
“Oh, sure, my dear. I’m so sorry!” But she didn’t give it to you. The van stopped next to you and the driver’s door opened. A tall man exited the car, walked around it, holding a small bottle and a cloth in his hands. Instinctively, you made a step back as you took a quick glance at the old lady.
“I am terribly sorry, dear,” she simply said, her smile never leaving her face. Then, all of a sudden, something was pressed in front of your face and before you could make a single thought, everything went black.
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When the cold water hits you in your face, you wake up from your panic attack. Your eyes stare wide at the man in front of you who is looking at you in annoyance and with disdain as his big hand grips an empty glass, the pressure almost threatening to break it.
“Get a grip and stop crying,” he barks, not affected in the slightest by your distress. You are too perplexed to reply, you can only look at him in shock. He is tall; too tall in combination with his muscular build. The fabric of his red suit stretches over his biceps and triceps like a second skin and his shoulders seem to want to burst through the fabric. In short, this man is built like an ox and is probably just as strong which does not help your fear in the slightest.
Without saying another word, he turns around and leaves you alone, taking the empty glass with him, the door closing behind him with an audible click. You blink confused. His casual dismissal of your panic attack makes you feel uneasy; there was no concern, no remorse, no nothing resembling sympathy in his tone. Only stone-cold annoyance, as if you are beneath him in some way.
You are alone. Wet. Frightened. But you can breathe again.
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You are unsure how long you’ve been alone in this room. After you calmed yourself down enough, you started to look around. Other than the bed, there is nothing in this room except for a small window in the corner but you can’t look outside since the glass is frosted. You had contemplated to scream for help, but ultimately decided against it. This room seems to be part of a new building, judging by the smell and the clean walls, maybe not even entirely finished so there wouldn’t be any neighbors yet. Plus, you feared he’d come back and punish you for even trying. You tried breaking free from your restraints, too, but it was to no avail. You are left here alone, tied up like a present, and utterly and entirely helpless.
The light in the room starts to fade and you notice how your bladder is starting to burn. You need to pee. Now, you are hit with another dilemma. Should you call him or just…let it flow? You are half-set on just letting it out but are then reminded of his attitude towards your panic attack and you doubt he’d feel sympathy for you if you peed yourself. He’d probably just let you lie in it which would make this whole ordeal even worse if this was even possible.
But calling for him seems to go against your pride; the last time you needed someone to go to the toilet was when you were a toddler and you mom had to help you. This is humiliating.
“H-hello?” your voice sounds small, even in your own ears and you’re not sure if he even heard you. So, you try again, this time louder.
“Hello? Mister?” First, there is silence and you take a deep breath to call out for him again. But then, you hear footsteps; heavy, fast, and with purpose. They approach your room quickly and your body instinctively tenses, then flinches as the door is opened. The prominent shape of his head mixed with his sharp eyes let you shrink in yourself; your heart is racing and your mouth feels dry. He doesn’t say a word but his expression darkens the longer you remain silent.
You clear your throat yet your voice still sounds strange, timid even.
“I-I need to go to the…..” you trail of, hoping he know what you want to tell him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t reply, only raising an eyebrow. You are sure he knows what you mean. He simply chooses to make you say it out loud.
“Can I go to the bathroom?” you bite your lip anxiously, heart hammering against your ribcage, desperately trying to get free. Your captor remains still for a second, then, he slowly makes his way over to you, shoulders moving with every step, his eyes pinned on you. For a moment, he just stands there next to you, then, he leans down. Your breath catches in your throat, somehow expecting him to punch you for your audacity to call out for him. Instead, he simply detaches the handcuffs from the rope that is tied to the bedpost, then he pulls you off the bed by your biceps.
You are shoved towards the door unceremoniously, his big hand remaining between your shoulder blades as he guides you through an apartment hallway towards what seems to be the toilet. It is a small room with only the toilet in it, the main bathroom is probably the room next door. He lets you enter but when you attempt to close the door for some privacy, his hand slams against the wood.
“The door stays open.” His voice sounds like gravel and a shudder runs up your spine. You don’t dare to argue with him. Timidly and under his scrutinizing eyes, you start to unbutton your pants, feeling humiliated that he has you undress in front of him. The handcuffs around your wrists rustle when you pull your pants down and shimmy your panties down just enough so that you don’t wet them when you sit on the toilet. You don’t look at him as you try to squeeze out the content of your bladder but his stare makes it impossible for you to pee. You keep your head low when you ask “could you please at least turn around?”. It takes a second but eventually he obliges, turning his back towards you and even walking away and out of sight; the door still open.
You don’t know what he is doing but you hear the buzz of a phone on a table, then the opening of a zip. You feel relieved when you finally manage to relieve yourself, a small sigh leaving your mouth. You hurry to be done before he comes back and make it just in time to flush the toilet and wash your hands in the sink attached to the toilet. When you turn around, his imposing figure greets you once again. This time, he is holding something in his hands though. You look from what seems to be a tripod and a phone in his one hand to something made of fabric and plastic in his other hand back to his face. He steps aside for, ordering you to get out with a single glance and you oblige, not daring to ask what this is for even though, deep down, you have a faint idea.
He herds you back to the room; there is no body contact this time but he makes sure he is only one step behind you, his body heat radiating off of him like a fire. You enter the room and look at him over your shoulder, unsure if he wants you get on the bed again (though you have a strong guess he does), when you see him closing and locking the door behind him. You swallow hard and take a step back, your legs bumping against the bedframe. He casually, without a care in the world, sets up the tripod. Without even looking at you, he tells you to “undress”. When he doesn’t hear you shuffle, he looks up. The cold in his eyes makes you start to breathe faster once more, the room suddenly feeling way too small for you and this monster in front of you. Your throat feels like it is closing and you can’t breathe, panic spreads through your body like a plague.
Your kidnapper sets up the phone, then all of his attention is back on you
“If you don’t do it, I’ll have to help you. ‘s that what you want?” This can’t be true, can it? Is he really about to do what you think that he is about to do? Your body is trembling and even if you wanted to open your pants, you can’t. You are frozen in place like a deer in headlight.
“Please….” Your voice sounds far away in the distance and you are not sure If you actually said the word or just thought it but the man seems to be irritated.
“Keep your underwear on. Just need to send a message.” The disdain in his voice his palpable but his words somewhat make you feel relieved. Yet, you cannot force your body to move, everything is locked in and you can only stare at him.
A scowl forms on his face and out of the corners of your eyes you see him clench and unclench his fists a couple of times before he rolls his head on his neck, letting it crack, then he grabs a pair of leather gloves, puts them on, then he grabs the plastic thing he was holding earlier. It’s a mask, you realize as he puts it on, the face of a dog now looking at you. You swallow hard when realization hits you. Akainu – the Yakuza – the new law proposal – a message – your father. He is here to make sure the new law does not pass.
He presses something on the phone, then he slowly makes his way over to you. In a panic, you look around, trying to find anything you can defend yourself with, but there is nothing. On top of that are your hands still tied together in front of you. There is nothing you can do against him and yet you start punching him with both hands as he reaches for you. Angrily but with precision he grabs you; one hand is buried in your hair, pulling your head back, the other almost expertly opens your pants and pulls the down. You scream, kick and lunge at him but you never hit. In response, the grip in your hair intensifies and you can feel him pulling out your hair with his grip. Tears stream down your face as you beg him to stop. He doesn’t listen.
Akainu pushes you face first onto the bed and takes a seat on your thighs, his hand remains buried in your hair, pressing your head into the mattress. Your screams are muffled and you can’t move, your hands trapped underneath your own body. You can feel his free hand trace the curve of your ass, his thumb disappearing underneath the thin fabric for a quick moment. Your muffled screams become louder; your body is thrashing underneath this beast but you can do nothing against him. A frustrated and desperate moan escapes your lungs as you helplessly have to let him do as he pleases. His weight is pressing down on you, his free hand playing with the seam of your panties, letting it snap against your skin for good measure.
The hand in your hair then pulls your head off the bed for a moment and the forces you to face the phone. Your mascara is smeared all over your face, your skin is red and swollen, tears and snot making you shimmer in the dim light of the setting sun.
“Please…stop it.” You beg him, trying to look at the man as good as you can. But the only thing you see is that cursed dog mask with a cold pair of eyes looking right back at you.
Well hello there. Felt the urge to write something for the good old fleet admiral again and here we are. Just a little something...
Warning: 18+, mdni, Teacher / student, older man / younger woman, gaslighting, University AU, smexy times, and more
Pairing: Teacher! Sakazuki x female student reader, Sabo x female reader
Word count: 12k
Measured, unyielding, heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor filled with students. It was loud yet everyone listened, looked, and got out of the way at the sight of him. His gaze was locked forward, beard neatly kept, his crimson military-style double breasted wool peacock open, underneath a crisp white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, revealing part of his tattoo if you took a closer look (which nobody dared). The polished black leather combat dress boots could crush enemies underneath them without any effort. An expensive looking watch flashed in the light of the ceiling lights; his arm movement minimal but controlled. He held a brown leather-bound folder in his right hand which swung with each stride.
He didn’t need to search for the lecture hall – he knew where he was going, even though he had never been here. It was his instinct and decades of military training; countless scars on his body, some even on his face, were a token from the battlefield, a reminder that he came out victorious of every single one of them.
Heads turned when he entered the lecture hall, his eyes skimmed through the already present students, taking note who took this course seriously. He got the list of students who’d attend his class in advance. He wasn’t surprised that, even though he had a well-known reputation as a military hardliner, students signed up for his class. What did surprise him, however, was the fact that administration excepted so many students. A hundred and thirty-five in total. Well, it wouldn’t matter anyways. He was sure that at least half of them would drop this class in less than four weeks, if he was lucky even more.
He put his folder on the big desk in the front and got his laptop out, fired it up and pulled up the presentation he had prepared for today. He connected the laptop to the projector, first of all revealing the syllabus for this semester. He saw how the first students started typing, taking notes when papers were due, midterms, final paper, debate dates…
Week 1: Introduction: What Is Justice? (Plato, Rawls, and Sakazuki)
Week 2: Theories of Punishment: Retribution, Deterrence, Rehabilitation
Week 3: Ethics of State Violence: When Does the State Go Too Far?
Week 4: Capital Punishment: Is It Ever Justifiable?
Week 5: The Psychology of Criminal Behavior
Week 6: Open Debate I: “Is Harsh Punishment Effective?”
Week 7: Case Study: Ohara – Was Total Eradication Justified?
Week 8: Midterm Paper: “The Ethics of Absolute Justice – A Critique or Defense”
Week 9: Restorative Justice and Alternatives to Incarceration
Week 10: Authoritarian Justice Models – A Global Perspective
Week 11: Open Debate II: “Should Public Safety Override Civil Rights?”
Week 12: Final Essay Presentations and Panel Discussion
He wasn’t a professor; he didn’t even enjoy teaching. He was a tactician, feeling most comfortable around his own kind – high-ranking military personnel, planning the next strike in enemy territory. However, he came under fire recently due to a failed mission and his superiors offered his head to the public. In order to keep his job, he reluctantly agreed to lecture at a university for one semester, teaching students about the law.
He checked the watch on his wrist – 10 more minutes until the start of his lecture. He had decided to throw anyone out who was late, probably already sorting out a huge chunk of students.
You hurried through the almost empty hallway, out of breath and panicking. First day back in your fourth semester and you were already late. You had applied for this course simply because it sounded interesting, controversial even. Only after you had been accepted did you find out who the lecturer was. You have never really paid attention to military operations, but you were familiar with his name and face. Sakazuki. AdmiralSakazuki. Maybe you should’ve taken a closer look when you read the title of the seminar “Ethics of punishment in modern society”. The word punishment should’ve been an indicator but since this was an ethics course you didn’t really question who the professor was, you just assumed it was one of those goody-two-shoes lawyers who have never stepped foot in a real court. But having an actual admiral teach this course was interesting, to say the least.
You looked at your phone. 8:32. You were two minutes late. The door was already closed. You stopped, tried to bring your breath under control before you carefully opened the door, peeping inside. The rows were filled with students and to your dismay all the seats close to the door were already taken. You bit your lip, then squeezed through the door and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.
The room was silent as you made your way up the stairs, searching for an empty seat without disturbing the others. It was nearly impossible. Then, in the last row, you spotted an open aisle seat, so you hurried up, not noticing that all eyes were on you. Only when you sat down did you realize that you were the center of attention.
“You are late.” His voice was deep, sharp and dangerously calm. You swallowed, then put on an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.” You said, pulling out your laptop and placing it in front of you.
“I know it won’t happen again. Your seat in this class has been revoked the moment you failed to show up on time. Leave this lecture hall immediately.” You halted, looking at him in disbelief.
“Sir?”
“I don’t like to repeat myself and I pride myself in speaking very clearly.”
“I-I understood what you said, sir, but I don’t think this is-“ he cut you off.
“Do I look like I care what you think? Pack up your stuff and leave. Now.”
The air was thick with tension and everything in your stomach tightened. You felt a lot of emotions right now but the most prominent were anger and shame. Anger for how he treated you and shame for doing it in front of the entire class. But you kept your mouth shut. Instead, you silently packed your laptop back into your bag, slung the strap over your shoulder and – this time not so quietly – made your way back down the stairs towards the door. With a last venomous look in the admiral’s direction, you left the lecture hall, letting the door fall shut behind you.
You didn’t leave the building, however. You just let your anger out by mumbling to yourself, ignoring the occasional student who looked at you funnily. Who did he think who he was? Was this even legal? A professor couldn’t just kick you out of his class for being two minutes late, right? You could go to the department head and complain, but you honestly wanted to try it without running directly to mommy right away. But on the other hand, you really needed this course. If you didn’t take it, you would have to wait until next semester to take your next ethics class and it would throw you back six months. You couldn’t risk it. So, you calmed yourself down, angrily texting away on your phone, asking your friend, who was also in his class, if you could copy her notes after class and to let you know what has been discussed, and waited outside the lecture hall until class was over.
His first lecture was over and he could see it in his students’ eyes that they were quite overwhelmed by his first class. He was like a cannon – bombarding them with facts, stats, quotes and whatnot over and over. After around 45 minutes, he could see that the first students had started to drift off, apparently already mentally dropping his course. Fine by him. There had been 10 students late in total, all of them had been sent home. So, he was down to 125 students. He didn’t bother checking names; only when it came to the first open debate would he start to remember the names of students who weren’t completely stupid.
Sakazuki packed up his laptop and was about to leave when he was stopped by a small person in front of him, looking up at him, big eyes now formed to slits that tried to set him ablaze how it seemed. He remembered you; you were one of the students who had been late. He already knew what you wanted.
“My answer is no.” no compromise, no arguing, this was his verdict. But apparently you didn’t see it that way.
“Listen, I know I was late today and I apologize but I won’t just accept being thrown out of this course.” He was taken aback by your response. He honestly did not anticipate that, especially since most, if not all, students seemed to fear him. You continued.
“I need this class and I don’t want to get one semester behind just because a faux pas. I want another chance.”
“Not a chance. You call it a faux pas, I call it disrespectful. And now stop bothering me.” This was the end of the conversation for him and he walked past you dismissively. But you didn’t give up.
“I don’t think it’d be good publicity if an admiral, who is already under public pressure because of a mistake, is throwing students out of an ethics seminar because of trivial reasons, like, I don’t know, being two minutes late?” Sakazuki stopped, his body tense, his jaw grinding together, a deep scowl on his face. He slowly turned around, his harsh eyes fixated on you like a pitbull locking in on its target. You stiffened, instinctively taking a step back but bumping into the desk behind you. Sakazuki took a step forward, towering over you like a giant.
“Are you threating me?” his voice was calm but like a sword. You felt hot and cold at the same time, your fight of flight instinct kicked in and you had difficulties suppressing it. This man’s aura was impressive, intimidating and simply murderous.
“I-“ you cleared your throat.
“I just want a second chance, sir. ‘s all.” Your hand gripped the edge of the desk behind you, your nails digging into the material, your heart pounding in your chest. All your confidence, all the rage from moments ago – gone. You were left with the crushing feeling of helplessness in face of such a potentially dangerous man.
Sakazuki stared at you, his mind fully at work. He didn’t want to let you back in; his own sense of justice forbade it. Yet – you were not wrong. You could potentially cause him trouble if you went to the right person. And he didn’t like the idea of having to justify himself in front of the committee which meant that he didn’t like you.
His jaw clenched before he breathed out, his muscles relaxing. He had a short temper, and when he exploded people compared it to a volcano but even he knew he couldn’t lose his cool at a university, especially on his first day. He would get his revenge on you; for your disobedience, your disregard and especially your audacity.
“What is your name?” he asked, taking you off guard.
“L/N Y/N, sir.”
“Don’t be late, Ms. L/N.”
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Ever since then, you were the first in class, always sitting towards the front. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to get rid of you, maybe even kill you. Of course, the other students were talking about you and were speculating what you did. You were certain you even heard some of them talking about that you let him fuck you in return for your seat back in his class. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on his lectures but sometimes it got to you and you weren’t able to follow his lecture any more. So, you needed to make up for it at home and in the library.
It was obvious what the professor’s stance was on justice and ethics but you had the hunch that the university forced him to get a more moderate approach on this subject and push his personal believes to the back. He still tried to nudge you towards his perspective. What he also tried was to humiliate you in his class. He had the unfortunate superpower to know exactly when you weren’t listening. He’d ask a question and then pick you to answer it. Nine times out of ten, you couldn’t give him the correct answer. He’d scoff and dismiss you, then pick one of his favorites to answer his question correctly. At least this helped you get the others off your back about you selling your body to him since it had started to become obviously that he did not like you.
“Next week we will have the open debate. I will divide you into two camps – pro and con. There is no changing teams; you will prepare yourselves and make your standpoint clear. Be convincing, be precise. I will remember who did well….and who didn’t.” He let his gaze roam over the crowd.
“And the ones I can’t remember – you might as well drop this class altogether because you will not get a good overall grade by the end of this semester.” You could hear a pin drop; nobody said a word.
“Dismissed.”
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You were spending more and more time in the library, especially since, besides the upcoming debate next week, also the midterm papers were coming up. Not just Sakazuki’s class but also other classes had a full schedule and didn’t leave much time to breathe. But there was only so much space in your brain that could be filled in one day. So, you decided that you had to take a break. It was a Thursday night and you had just spent three hours at the library and your brain was fried and your stomach empty. You only had afternoon classes tomorrow so you didn’t feel too bad when you just dropped your backpack off at your dorm, changed into something a little sexier – a cute crop top and a black ankle length skirt with comfortably sneakers – put your hair up in a messy ponytail and put some fresh make up on, and left again. You deliberately left both your bra and panties at home. You would never admit it openly but you enjoyed the free feeling this gave you.
First, you got something to eat; a quick stop at McDonald’s and you were good to go. You texted some friends if they wanted to join you at your usual bar but all of them declined, giving early classes tomorrow as a reason. You didn’t argue; instead, you just went by yourself, not being concerned about being all alone. You were a social butterfly, always able to strike a conversation with anyone, especially if alcohol was involved.
You sat at the bar and ordered a gin tonic, taking a picture of the drink and yourself for your Instagram, telling your followers in the caption that they could join you if they were free. Posted. You looked around the bar; it was semi crowded; all tables were occupied but next to you was an empty seat. Some familiar faces, either from your classes or because you had seen them in this bar before, were also around. You took a sip through the straw and felt the alcohol warm your body, a content sigh following right behind. Yes, this was what you needed. Some alcohol, some time to relax and just some chance to turn your brain off for a minute or two. You moved your upper body to the music, closing your eyes, bobbing your head up and down, side to side, with a lazy smile on your lips. Another sip, then you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. You looked up and smiled when you saw who it was.
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Sakazuki was on his way home; he had been working in his office until now, preparing his lecture for next week and the upcoming debate. Even though he was not a teacher, not a professor, he took his job seriously, no matter how much he hated this job. That was one of the things the military has taught him.
The university was providing an apartment for him; nothing special but good enough for this semester. He still preferred his own house. Only problem was, it was three hours away from here so the university apartment had to do.
He was walking through the empty streets; a few students were walking home from one of the several bars located around the campus, some staggering heavily, some seemingly completely sober. When they saw him, their laughter stopped, their bodies becoming rigid until he had past them and they were in the clear. He could hear the not so silent whispers when they thought he was out of earshot, mostly commentating on how scary he was. He did not mind it at all; in fact, he welcomed it. Sakazuki was aware that he was neither a kind nor a compassionate man and he would do nothing to change that. In his mind, it was better to be feared than loved and as far as he knew he could put the fear in God in people if he so chose to.
He passed a bar to his right; the alleyway beside it was narrow and half-swallowed by shadow. The music coming from the establishment seemed to be lost in the dark, the street lights reaching not even two meters inside it. But there was a sound coming from the shadows; it was feint but unarguably there. He wouldn’t have paid it any more mind if it didn’t sound like a female voice. His military training kicked in, sensing that someone might be in danger. Maybe she was hurt, lying on the dirt ground, barely conscious and trying to call for help.
Sakazuki took a careful step forward into the alleyway, trying to make out any silhouettes in the dark. He considered calling out to whoever was there but decided against it, not wanting to spook a potential assailant and let them get away. The deeper he went into the narrow alley, the clearer he could hear the soft sounds. Female, without a doubt, voice strained, heavy pants. A quiet curse under her breath, then shuffling and the rustling of clothes.
His eyes slowly started to adjust to the dark, making out the shapes of big objects, most likely containers or piles of garbage. When he took another step closer, he could see what seemed like two people but they somehow blended into one big silhouette. It took him another step forward when he finally realized what he had just walked into.
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After three drinks and a couple shots later, you were shamelessly flirting with Sabo. His hand lied on your thigh, dangerously close to your already slick pussy. You knew where this would lead to, it had happened many times before and you were sure this would not be the last time. You two had tried dating in your first semester but both soon came to the conclusion that there were not really feelings involved and you simply enjoyed the shared intimacy.
“Another drink?” you asked, lips brushing against his ear, speech slightly slurred and incoherent. A chuckle, before his lips found your ear in return to reply, his hand slightly squeezing your thigh.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink.”
“Not talkin’ ‘bout myself.” Your hand found his thigh in return and you sheepishly massaged it through his jeans. “Got somethin’ real special for you in mind….” You hummed, your lips starting to ghost over his neck, little goose flesh prickling over his skin. His response was a low growl and you could hear the grin on his lips as he spoke.
“As long as you spread those legs for me, I’ll take it.”
You didn’t make it far after you left the bar. To be precise, only into the alleyway right next to it. Sabo lead you into the dark, his hungry eyes becoming but a faint glimmer as his hands roamed over your body. You panted, hands tangling into his blonde hair while he bit and sucked on your neck, leading you towards the very end to a dumpster. His hand moved underneath your crop top, playing with your breasts before he pulled the annoying fabric over your head and placed it on the dumpster, having the mind not to let it fall onto the dirty ground. His lips latched onto your nipple, sucking on it while his hand played with the other one. He didn’t waste any time then. His strong hands grabbed your thighs, lifted you up and placed you carefully on the top. You looked down at him, a drunk smile on your lips, before you leaned back, your skin touching the cold metal of the container as you lied down. Sabo grabbed both your ankles and placed your feet on top of the container as well, your legs spread for the man in front of you who now only needed to lift your skirt.
“Let’s see how long it takes me to completely down everything….” His voice had dropped an octave and it send electricity right to your core. His hands took a hold of your thighs, holding them in place while his breath ghosted over your slick folds.
It didn’t take him long to have you panting and cursing, one hand was tangled in his hair, pushing and pulling to his skilled tongue while the other clawed at the edge of the container, nails digging deep. Your chest was almost heaving at this point, so close yet Sabo loved to tease you, push you close to the edge and then not finish it. You loved and hated it at the same time.
Your thighs were quivering while Sabo edged you closer yet again, your stomach tightening in anticipation for the orgasm he’d hopefully grant you this time. Your hair was sticking to your face, sweat dripping down your face, you breasts, pooling in your belly button. You swallowed hard, your grip in his hair like a vice claw, forcing him to stay where he was. Your moans became louder, your body rocking against his face, your second hand joined your other in his locks and he pressed his face into you like a starved man.
“Fuck!” you moaned, throwing your head back, body shaking violently while you came around his tongue. Your eyes were pressed shut as the waves of your orgasm rolled over you. Your jaw was slack in an open-mouthed smile, tongue slightly out as your body slowly relaxed. Your eyes opened, gaze unfocused and still seeing stars. But as the fog in your brain slowly started to fade, your eyes cleared and reality sat back in, you were met with a pair of harsh eyes, staring at you in disbelief, the imposing figure rigid as if in shock. It took another second to fully comprehend it but when you did you screamed, sitting up straight, pushing Sabo away so you could get down, grabbing your crop top and pulling it over your head, all the while tears started forming in your eyes.
“What the-?” Sabo was confused but quickly caught on why you were screaming. He wiped at his mouth while stepping in front of you protectively. But the silhouette didn’t come closer, it didn’t move.
“Hey man, what do you want?” Sabo asked, hands balled into fists, ready to throw punches if necessary. The man didn’t reply right away, apparently also surprised by this whole situation. Then, he spoke and your blood ran cold. You knew this voice.
“I don’t care who you spread your legs for, Y/n, but maybe you should consider that a public place, no matter how dark it is, might not be the best choice to get your pussy eaten.”
You felt the heat and shame rush to your head and tears started rolling down your cheeks. You had no idea what to say. There was no real rebuttal anyways, right? You felt dirty and exposed, your hands grabbing at Sabo’s shirt while you shrunk to Sakazuki’s words, hiding behind your friend and hoping you could just disappear completely. This was humiliating, to say the least. How long had he been there? How long did it take him to realize that it was you? Did he watch? He certainly saw you getting undone around Sabo’s tongue, but how long had he been watching?
“Might also spare you from the humiliation that comes after getting caught. Should be glad I realized in time what was going on, otherwise your little friend over there might’ve ended up in a hospital….” He mumbled, his eyes landing on Sabo. You looked up at him, only now realizing that yes, maybe someone could interpret this situation completely wrong, maybe think that you were in danger and harm Sabo, which, apparently, was exactly what your teacher had thought.
Sakazuki didn’t wait for a reply. He simply turned around and walked off, leaving you two behind.
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You were a complete mess the following days. You skipped your next day classes and just stayed in bed, replaying the scene from last night over and over again in your head. Sabo had texted you but you never replied. He even came to your room Friday night but you just told him to please leave you alone. You couldn’t see him in the eye after what happened. It wasn’t his fault, but you simply couldn’t see his face right now. He obliged, texted you later that, if you needed anything, he was there.
The weekend came and went. You tried to do some homework but the invisible Damocles sword was dangling above your head and you dreaded the next class you had with Sakazuki. And of course, you had to prepare for this fucking debate. You had your arguments all written down but you were not confident if you could also present them, especially when you knew he would be staring at you, scrutinizing you while still remembering how you became undone on a dumpster.
What haunted you the most, however, were those sharp eyes, watching you like a predator, following you even in your sleep. Those same eyes that had seen you at your most vulnerable, seen your half-naked body and your face contorted in ecstasy.
When the day came, you took your time to get to his class. You were tired, your limbs felt heavy and your body seemed like it didn’t belong to you but to someone else. The lecture hall was already packed, students discussing amongst their groups their arguments, quiet mumbling, strategies being planned, and last notes were taken. You sat down a little further back, your usual spot already taken. You tried to listen to your group but couldn’t concentrate. You were all supposed to speak, make your arguments but not take up too much time while not drowning in the masses. You knew you were screwed and for a moment you contemplated if you should just leave and come back next class, telling the others you didn’t feel right, but this choice was taken from you when Sakazuki entered the room.
He didn’t look at you; he didn’t look at anyone. He simply fired up his laptop, connected it to the beamer and pulled up a single slide from his presentation. The title of the debate was written on the top, below the rules for everyone to see. The debate was set for 60 minutes; after those 60 minutes, each team would choose one person to go into a head-to-head debate with the opposing group. Sakazuki would give a statement and the teams had 5 minutes to discuss their points, then the chosen person would present those arguments. Debate must be clear, no random facts could be thrown in, each group must acknowledge the opposing team’s statement in some way and make a logical counter point.
You just had to survive your turn. You surely wouldn’t be picked by your team for the head-to-head debate, you could make sure of this, so your confidence rose a tiny fraction that you would come out of this class alive.
“You have 60 minutes starting now. The pro-side begins.”
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The debate was more heated that you had anticipated. Even though you were in the pro-group, defending that harsh punishment was effective, it felt surprisingly easy to defend this stance. Both sides came up with good points; there were students who clearly had more to say than others but everyone tried to make sure that each of their group members was able to contribute to this discussion. You even spoke twice. At some point the conversation shifted from harsh punishment to capital punishment and the groups started arguing for and against it. Sakazuki just stood there, leaning against the desk, a clipboard in his hands and idly taking notes of what was said, who said it and how they said it.
When time was up, Sakazuki interrupted a student.
“You have five minutes to prepare your points to the following statement. The pro-side remains the pro-side and the con-side remains the con-side.” He switched the slide and it showed a simple question.
“Should the Justice System Prioritize Rehabilitation Over Punishment?”
You quickly elected your speaker for this debate (it wasn’t you) and wrote down points. It was messy and chaotic but you tried your best to be helpful, even though you now felt a pair of harsh eyes on you. You peeked over your fellow classmate’s heads and regretted it instantly. He was staring at you, directly, openly, knowingly.You looked away, feeling the heat rise up in your cheeks again and nausea making it difficult to breathe.
The debate began and you tried to hide from his gaze behind other students, your body relaxing now that you were done with your part and only needed to listen. You tuned out the arguments from both sides, knowing where your group was standing and faintly being able to imagine what the other group might refute your arguments with. The ten minutes were up in no time and everyone respectfully knocked on their table to congratulate the two debaters. Sakazuki nodded, telling them to sit back down. The air around you that had previously been tense, now calmed and you felt relief that this class was almost over for today.
“Not half as bad as I had anticipated.” Sakazuki remarked, some students high-fived each other, others giggled.
“Ms. L/N.” he suddenly called you out. You froze, looking at him wide eyed, everyone turned to look at you.
“Give me the three most compelling arguments the opposite side made.” This was a joke, right? Of course, he just fucking had to pick you! You felt bile rising up in your throat, your face was pale and the room started to spin. You didn’t take any notes – didn’t even listen to the debate, too focused on yourself that you didn’t consider that there might be another trap waiting for you just so he could push you right in.
“I-“ you cleared your throat, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water without uttering another word. Your eyes darted around in a panic, trying to see if one of your classmates had taken notes but of course, none of them had either. You were just the lucky one who got picked. His eyes lingered on you for another uncomfortable moment before he called another name.
You put your face in your hands, hiding it from everyone’s view, and just shook your head. You weren’t crying, yet, but you felt humiliated all over again. From that point on, you heard nothing. You drowned out what was said, how Sakazuki assigned homework for next week, how the students were then dismissed for the day, the shuffling and mumbling, until you were left alone in your seat.
“Another rough night in an alleyway spreading your legs or why were you even more unfocused today that usual?” you jumped in your seat, not noticing how Sakazuki had slowly made his way over towards you, climbing the stairs with measured steps. You tensed, averting your gaze before you hastily packed your stuff. Too slow. He stopped next to you, mammoth arms crossed in front of his chest, a stern look on his face. You remained silent but your face told him everything he needed to know.
His eyes dropped down from your face to your chest, now covered by the T-Shirt you were wearing but he could see through it. He remembered; remembered it all. He woke up hard and unsatisfied Friday morning, the last snippet in his dreams before he awoke was seeing your pretty face, contorted in ecstasy while coming; the cute and restraints pants and moans that gradually became louder as if you didn’t have a care in the world. Did you do this often? Was he your boyfriend or a stranger? Did you spread your legs for anyone? Would you spread your legs for him?
The things he could do to you, the things he would do to you if he had less self-restraint. Lucky for you, he wasn’t a complete monster. But knowing he could potentially coerce you into offering your cunt to him, simply by stating that you were very close to failing this class, gave him enough ammunition for his fantasy. Would you ask him to give you yet another chance? Would you try and make up with extra essays? Would you beg him to please not let you fail? God, he was pathetic for thinking such things and yet he caught himself, alone in his office, absentmindedly rubbing his dick through his pants before stopping with a disgusted expression. He never thought of himself being a deprived human being, always chiding his colleagues when they talked about their sexcapades but was he any better, really?
Of course, he was.
“What do you want?” your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you clearly. “Haven’t you humiliated me enough for today?” Your voice broke and he could see you sob, your head low while silent tears dropped from your face and painted your jeans with dark spots. He didn’t expect that. Yet, he did not feel remorse.
“What did I do, exactly, to humiliate you?” Your head shot up, eyes red and glassy but there was a fire behind them. You clenched your hands into fists and he was ready to catch your hand before it could collide with his face but you restrained yourself.
“Oh, I don’t know? You comment just now, or the fact that you keep calling my name in class to answer questions or when you caught me-“ you stopped, not finishing the sentence. You let your head fall forward, shoulders shaking now that you were full on crying.
“How is it my fault you do not pay attention? Or how is it my fault you didn’t choose a more private location to get head from some boy? If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. You came to me, asking, no, threatening me to give you another chance and yet you do not use it!” His voice gradually got louder, his bad temper slowly getting the better of him. How dare you blame him for all this?
“Maybe, if you took some more responsibility and got your life in order, you wouldn’t be in this situation! I know, all you young people think that university is some place where you can slack off before you have to work for the rest of your miserable lives but how do you expect to do this if you can’t even pass a fucking ethics class or make smarter choices regarding your sex life?” Sakazuki was leaning over you, the last part was spoken quieter but cut through you like a sword – sharp and painful. He took a deep breath before straightening his back and making his way back down to his desk. You remained in your seat, even long after he has left, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face.
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His words hurt, even days after they still echoed in your head. And behind his cutting voice, there was your own, asking the question “is he wrong though?”. And that was something that gnawed at you. But, you had let out all your tears, all the anger, all the shame and all the frustration. Now, you felt better. Not good, but better than before. You still wished he would disappear, maybe if combust, who knows, but you slowly made peace with the fact that some things can’t be changed but you can make sure the same thing won’t happen again!
You still didn’t feel like going out, but today was your friend’s, Kaya’s, birthday. She had planned it for months now, finally turning 21. Lucky her, her parents were rich and they paid for her party. There was this horrendously expensive hotel in the next town over Kaya and her family frequently visited whenever her parents were in town. You had never been inside the hotel before but according to her this hotel had the best bar around and she had asked her parents if she could celebrate her birthday there, which they agreed to. You had no idea how much this would cost them nor did you want to know but it must’ve been a small fortune.
Kaya only invited her closer friends (still around 13). The bar had a dress code and when you told Kaya that you might not be able to join her party because you did not have the right dress but were more than happy to celebrate with her another day in private, she didn’t even hesitate and went dress shopping with you, telling you to choose whatever you wanted, it was a gift from her to you. You wanted to decline but, as nice and sweet and generous and lovely as she could be, she could be just as much as intimidating. So, you chose a knee-length, off-shoulder, A-line cocktail dress with lace on the bottom and in a light pink tone. Kaya immediately told you to get it and after checking the price, confirming it wasn’t too expensive, you agreed.
You were all picked up by two limousines, everyone squealing in excitement and hurriedly climbing into either one of the cars. On the ride there, you shared glasses of champagne and singing along to the latest pop song. For the first time in a week, you felt happy and free; nothing reminded you of the horrifying encounter from last week Thursday. When you arrived at the hotel, you were again greeted by a glass of champaign each and led upstairs, past the big wooden bar in front of the stacked shelves with alcohol that reached the ceiling, and into a private room with your own private bar and bar keeper. Here, you could be as loud as you wanted, as long as you didn’t go outside and disturb the other guests. But this was fine.
“Before we start, I have a little surprise for you all.” Kaya raised her hand and revealed 14 black cards. Everyone was silent, just looking at her confused.
“My parents are paying for us to stay in this hotel the night!” she announced. Everyone around her screamed excitedly, jumping around like little children. Kaya was drowning in a sea of squealing girls who were excitedly hugging her, each other or just staring at the key card. Then, you sang her happy birthday. Not once, not twice, but 21 times. By the end, your voices were already breaking from all the laughing and yelling.
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“Guys, you will never guess who the fuck is outside sitting at the bar!” you turned around to look at Ulti, your vision blurry and a lazy smile on your face. The two other girls you had been talking to raised their eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Ulti to continue.
“It’s that admiral guy, who started teaching here this semester! Forgot his name but don’t you have him in one of your classes?” your face turned pale and you felt how all the alcohol threatened to exit your body the same way it had previously taken. Ulti, as a sports psychology major, had not contact with Sakazuki but it had made the rounds even outside your department that he was now teaching at your university, more or less.
You could only nod, not able to reply. You wanted to throw up, all the memories from your last encounter resurfaced, even stronger now that you were drunk. The others were giggling and speculating; maybe he was waiting for a date, maybe he was here alone? But Ulti clarified that he was not sitting by himself but with two other men.
“Maybe he’s gay and they’re having a little threesome….” Ulti mumbled, the others grimaced at the thought.
“Don’t ever say that again. Why would you want to picture your old ass teachers in such a situation?” but Ulti just shrugged. She was rather unaffected by this thought, as usual. Unlike you; you were sweating, your hair uncomfortably sticking to your neck and your stomach was concerning you.
“Sorry, I need to use the restroom. Be right back.” You excused yourself, the others not really paying you any mind, the conversation had moved on to threesomes in general, also a topic you did not feel like talking about right now.
You left the private room and staggered a couple steps before you had to catch yourself on the wall. You groaned, regretting how much alcohol you had consumed already. Slowly, you made your way over to the restrooms, having to pass through the public bar though. You kept your head low, not wanting to attract anyone’s attention, especially not Sakazuki’s. You tried to walk in a straight line, being as inconspicuous as possible while you tried to make out where Sakazuki was sitting out of the corner of your eyes. But you didn’t see him. You dared to slowly take a closer look around – but he wasn’t here. Maybe Ulti was wrong, maybe she confused someone else with him.
You relaxed, the nausea you had felt slowly ebbing down and the queasiness also slowly disappeared. You rounded the corner, the restrooms located at the end of this corridor, and bumped into something hard. You were too taken aback to react, the alcohol in your system not helping either, and so you fell. At least thought you’d fall. But you didn’t. A strong hand was wrapped around your upper arm, holding you upright with ease. Your drunken gaze slowly moved to the hand; neatly trimmed nails, long and strong fingers, and you could feel the calluses against your skin. Your eyes then followed the arm – muscles almost ripping the white dress shirt apart – until you looked into a (unfortunately) familiar face. There it was again, the bile in your throat.
“Not a place I had expected to run into you.” Sakazuki looked down at you, scrutinizing your appearance with a raised eyebrow. You tensed, feeling exposed under his gaze while his hand remained on your arm. You could see he wanted to add something more but refrained. Probably for the best. The air around you two was tense and the longer none of you spoke, the more suffocating it felt. He slowly let go of you though the warmth of his hand left a prickling on your skin. Your eyes quickly darted down towards the spot he had touched you, maybe hoping to see why it felt that way, but there was nothing to see.
“Just celebrating someone’s birthday…” you mumbled, words slightly slurred but due to the encounter you were quickly sobering up. Sakazuki just nodded. You two stood there for what felt like eternity; you bit your lip, unsure of what to do and increasingly growing anxious. Only then did he step aside, making room for you to pass him. But your brain did not register this gesture. You just stood there as if you were waiting for your mom to pick you up.
“What are you waiting for?” his deep voice, cutting through air like a knife, made you flinch. You looked up at him, lips slightly parted by no words were coming out. His expression became more annoyed and he looked to the side, eyes formed to slits while he exhaled exasperatedly. “Don’t tell me you need someone to hold your hand.” You face flushed bright red at his comment, your head shook almost violently and you pressed your lips together. “No, sir.” You pressed out, practically running past him and disappearing into the ladies’ restroom. He just stood there, slightly dumbfounded, before shaking his head in disbelief and making his way back to the bar where his two old colleagues were waiting for him.
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It was almost three in the morning when you decided to find your hotel room. Some of your friends had already left, while others were still celebrating. You excused yourself, hugged Kaya goodnight, thanking her again for the night and especially the hotel room, before you took your hotel room key card and exited the room. Ever since the encounter, you had only had nonalcoholic drinks with the occasional shot in between but you were mostly sober. Or so you thought. When the music around you was no more, you felt slightly dizzy. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself, before you made your way towards the elevator.
You looked at the envelope the key card and a small piece of paper were in. On the piece of paper, there was simply a number written. 637 – your room number. You pressed the elevator button and waited, watching how the display jumped from 8 to 7 to 6 to 5….
You jumped when a clammy hand found its way on your shoulder and the stench of alcohol breath was blown right into your face from the side. You scrunched your nose and turned your head to the side, looking directly at some drunk man, maybe mid to late thirties, who was grinning at you through glassy eyes.
“’sup pretty? Wanna come to my room and keep the party goin’?” He stumbled but caught himself by holding onto your shoulder. You wanted to reply but he was fishing something out of his pocket; a small plastic bag with white powder inside. “Got some stuff that could loosen us up a little. Whaddaya think?” You tried to twist your way out of his grip and decline, but then the elevator door opened and he almost pushed you inside, caging you in the corner while he fished out his own key card out of his pocket. He fiddled with it, blindly searching for the counterpart to his key card so he could press the button for his floor.
“Please….leave me alone.” Your voice was way too small for your own liking but your body was almost frozen. He burped unceremoniously, then grinned at you, teeth yellowish from too much coffee and cigarettes. You jumped when a clammy hand landed on your shoulder, the stench of alcohol hitting your face like a wave. His free hand found your hip while the quiet beep from the elevator announced that he could press the button now. He looked to the side, eyes skimming the numbers until he found the number four. You wanted to protest again, but the words got stock in your throat when a big hand forced itself between the closing door, forcing them to open again.
The man turned his head towards the entrance – the other person hidden by the man’s body – but you could see him tense up a little before the alcohol took over again. “Elevator’s occupied. Take the next one, bud, ‘kay?” But whoever stood behind him did not leave. Instead, you saw a pair of shoes enter the elevator. The man, seemingly out of instinct, took a step to the side, now revealing the “intruder” to your eyes. He wasn’t looking at you. He simply stared the man down with a mixture of boredom and try-me-and-I’ll-end-you. The man, unsure of what to do, intended to grab your hand but you swiftly moved it away, making yourself smaller than before, unmistakably indicating to your teacher that you did not want to be with this man.
“She said no, bud.” Four words, spoken calmly but not missing their mark. His emphasis on the last word a warning to the man, subconsciously forcing him away from you.
The doors closed and the elevator started moving; you stood in one corner, the man in the other and Sakazuki stood in the corner next to the exit, opposite the man. Silence. Nobody made a sound, not even the elevator. Until a quiet ding rang, announcing floor number four. The doors opened but the man didn’t move directly. His eyes moved from Sakazuki to you and then back to Sakazuki again before he scowled and eventually left the small room. When he was gone, the doors closed again, but it didn’t move. You hadn’t pressed the button yet.
Sakazuki’s eyes moved from the closed door over to you, and then he held out his hand. Confused, you raised your eyes to look at him.
“Which floor?” he asked, waiting for you to give him the key card so he could press the button, his body right in front of the number pad. Reluctantly, you gave him the plastic card and mumbled a “six”, averting your gaze after Sakazuki nodded.
When the elevator doors opened again, Sakazuki stepped outside first, taking a quick look around before looking at you expectantly. You hesitantly followed, not feeling too comfortable about being here with your teacher but not daring to tell him to go. Plus, deep down you felt grateful he did not just leave you alone after what just happened. He let you lead the way, his imposing form following not two steps behind you. The closer you got to your room, the more you felt his eyes on you. You felt your face heat up and your mouth ran dry. You couldn’t help it but imagine how this must look from the outside – a young woman, at night, at a hotel, an older man following her to her hotel room, nobody is speaking but you just knew what they would be doing once they were alone in the hotel room. But of course, this wasn’t the truth, right?
You looked at the golden number on the wall next to the door. 637. Your room. You just stood there, unsure of what to do. Then, a big hand reached past you and held the key card against the sensor. The heat from his body was suddenly ever present; it felt like it was about to burn you from behind. You closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself but it was futile. He opened the door with one hand and almost gently pushed you inside with his other, the heat of his palm on your lower back made you shudder.
You stepped inside the dark hotel room while Sakazuki placed the card inside the small holder that would activate the electricity in your room. Lights turned on and revealed a beautiful hotel room – but you had no eyes for it. You slowly turned around, Sakazuki stood close – too close – and looked down at you. Neither of you spoke for a moment. Then, “wanna come inside?”. You had no idea where this question came from. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was just stupidity. Regardless, it came out of nowhere for the both of you. Sakazuki was visibly confused to your question.
“Why would I come inside your room?” You shrugged.
“Kaya said we could drink anything from the mini bar….” You mumbled. Without waiting for an answer, you turned around and walked into the room, legs shaky on the heels on the carpet. You took them off when you sat on the big bed, a sigh of relief leaving your lips. This felt better.
You heard the door being closed with a click, then heavy, measured footsteps crossed the small hallway until Sakazuki’s form appeared in the doorframe leading to your bedroom.
“You really don’t listen, do you.” A dry statement, spoken with no emotion yet a load of judgement, it was almost comical. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the adrenaline from the escalator encounter, you didn’t know, but for the first time since you’ve known this man, you did not feel ashamed.
“Apparently, I don’t.”
“Why would you invite me in, then?”
“Why did you follow my invitation?”
Silence.
“Would you like something to drink?” you offered, studying his face, trying to see through the cold hard mask he had out on. Or maybe it wasn’t even a mask, maybe it was just who he was…
“No.” he slowly replied. You raised an eyebrow, then, a little clumsily, got up and walked over to the mini bar, opening the fridge. It was filled with alcoholic and nonalcoholic beverages. Your eyes skimmed over the labels, then decided on beer. You grabbed the only two bottles, closed the door and grabbed the bottle openers, popping off the caps routinely. Without saying a word, you offered him one of the bottles. He took it.
You didn’t look up at him when you clinked your beer against his, your left hand grabbing your right upper arm while you guided the beer to your mouth with your right hand. When the rim touched your lips, you quickly looked up at him.
“Thanks…for helping me.” Your lips closed around the opening, taking two sips, the cool beer ran down your throat. Sakazuki stared at you before he, too, took a sip. He slowly walked past you towards a table and placed the bottle on top.
“Don’t mention it.” He replied. He let his eyes wander through the hotel room; a desk, a chair, a sofa lounge, a king-sized bed, an ensuite bathroom, minibar, wardrobe, door leading to a balcony.
“Quite a generous friend you have there.” He comments, turning around to look at you. You are smaller without your heels and your hair looks a little messy. Probably from the party.
“Gift from her parents. They have their own company or something like that.”
There was silence again.
You just stood there, unsure of what to say. Even if you were sober, what would you say in this situation? You weren’t even sure why you invited him in, especially after everything. Sure, he had saved you from this man but other than that he has been nothing but mean, degrading and flat out unpleasant to you. There was no plausible reason why he was now here, in your room, silently watching you. You licked your lips, catching the taste of beer with your tongue, your eyes trained on the spot in front of his shoes. He took a step forward.
“I should leave.” You looked up at him, an undefined expression on your face. You slowly nodded but you didn’t quite want him to leave yet. There was something that had shifted between you two. Or maybe it was just on your part, you didn’t know. What you did know, however, was the fact that you suddenly started to notice small things about the man.
A charming smile, lean yet muscular body, boyish behavior, making you laugh – none of these attributes you usually found compelling and attractive in a partner fit Sakazuki. Another important aspect was age. He could be your father yet his stern demeanor, harsh, almost cruel comments and his no-nonsense attitude started to make you feel weak.
Maybe it was because he saved you from this man but something primal starting to stir inside you that craved security, for someone to protect you and who could bring enemies to their knees with a simple look.
You stepped in his path, slightly startling him. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you confused. You slowly turned around, your hand clutching the bottle of beer while the other carefully brushed your hair away from your neck.
“Could….could you help me with the dress before you leave? The zipper easily gets stuck…”
Were you serious? Why would you ask him with such an intimate task? This was wrong, even he couldn’t deny it. The moment he had saved you from that asshole, he should’ve left the elevator and leave you alone. But in that moment, he simply told himself he wanted to make sure that you arrived at your room without any issues. But anything after that? Unacceptable. And yet, here he was, his thick fingers trying to catch the small zipper, the metallic teeth slowly opening as he pulled it down, revealing more of your delicate skin. His finger lightly brushed over you, eliciting gooseflesh and a small shudder from you. He caught himself taking a little longer to let go of the zipper, his knuckles brushing against your skin.
For God’s sake, what was wrong with him? He was more than double your age, a highly decorated (yet somewhat disgraced) admiral in the navy and on top of that you teacher. He always prided himself of having high self-control, unwavering determination and the right moral code. But right now? You were testing him, testing his restraints. He would’ve been perfectly fine if it hadn’t been for that incident in the alleyway. He had always dismissed such indulgences—porn, casual fantasy, all of it. But ever since that alleyway incident, even his discipline had begun to crack. He caught himself considering things he never would’ve entertained before. Primitive. Disgusting.
“Thanks.” You voice was barely audible yet he could hear you perfectly. His hands fell to his sides, his eyes following the exposed flesh of your back, then lower, barely registering the fabric of your dress and rather imagining what you looked like underneath. Well, he knew what you looked like, also what you sounded like. He closed his eyes, his jaw tight and fists clenched. He needed to get out of here; what he was thinking right now was completely shameless.
He heard shuffling and rustling. His eyes flew open, stunned by the view in front of him. Your arms slipped free of the straps, the dress clutched to your chest by nothing but your hands. If you just raised your arms, the dress would slip to the floor….
“What the-“ but he didn’t get any further when you turned around to him, gaze unsure, a faint pink on your cheeks. You didn’t look at him, eyes focused on an undefined point somewhere in the room. He looked away, almost seeming flustered. You took a deep breath in before you spoke.
“Why did you follow my invitation?” there it was again, the same question. And just like before, Sakazuki did not have an answer. Your eyes now caught his.
“You chided – berated me for my sex life” you took a step forward, small, but determined, forcing Sakazuki to take step back.
“told me that I should get my life in order and make better choices” another step forward from you, another step back from him. He bumped into the table behind him, the bottle shaking slightly due to the impact.
“yet, here you are, in your student’s room, seemingly having no problem with it at all!” you lifted your finger accusingly, pointing at right at him.
“Guess self-control’s only for students.” You hissed at him sarcastically. You didn’t know what drove you—rage, desire, or some unspoken need to make him feel just as off-balance as you did. But you turned, still clutching the dress to your chest, and met his eyes.
The admiral crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively; he straightened his back, his imposing figure towering over you. But you didn’t budge. He had the urge to yell at you, to berate you for talking to him like this. But he swallowed it down. Not because you were right – you certainly were – but because he didn’t want to make a scene in the middle of the night and potentially alert other guests.
“Careful there.” It was more than a warning; a command, a threat even, to remind you of your position. You didn’t care.
“Careful my ass!” you lifted your arms, letting your dress purposefully drop to the floor – no bra, only black laced panties. He wanted to avert his gaze, he really did, but he couldn’t.
“What are you doing?” his nails dug into his biceps, his eyes desperately trying to stay focused on your face. He swallowed hard and his lips were pressed tightly together.
You pushed your index finger into his big chest, hard, and glared up at him.
“I could scream, you know.” His eyes narrowed, body tense.
“Alarm everyone around us. You’d get into so much trouble.” He exhaled, slowly, measured, trying to remain calm.
“You would lose everything, wouldn’t you? Getting caught with a student, in a hotel room, she, almost naked, screaming for you to leave her alone….wouldn’t look good, if you asked me.” Sakazuki sucked on his teeth, jaw grinding together so hard, you could almost hear it.
“You’re drunk.” He simply commented, trying to diffuse this situation.
“That’s even worse, isn’t it? Exploiting your drunk student.” Your finger pressed harder. You then smiled, taking a little step back.
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
You certainly underestimated him. Despite his age and all of his bulky muscles, he was surprisingly fast. He pressed his big hand over your mouth while his other hand grabbed your arm, flung you around, twisted your arm behind your back before pressing your body against the cold wooden surface of the table, leaning his entire weight on top of you. The bottle shook, then tipped over, spilling its content on the surface before dripping to the floor. Neither of you cared.
Your eyes were wide, your breathing rigid and your body trying to wriggle free – unsuccessfully. His fingers dug into your cheeks while his mouth grazed your ear.
“What is it with you?” he growled, his body pressing hard against yours. You whimpered.
“You invited me into your room. Yes, I accepted but now you are mad at me for it?” His hand glided down from your mouth to your throat. He didn’t squeeze hard; it was just a reminder.
“And then you expose yourself in front of me, shoving your fucking tits in my face while threatening to expose me?” Your pulse quickened, every fiber of your body screamed at you to run, to get out of this danger but there was something else, this primal desire form earlier, that kept you in place, unmoving, listening, and dangerously excited.
Sakazuki took a deep breath in, smelling the mixture of perfume, shampoo and sweat on you. He liked it. Maybe a little too much. He pressed his mouth against the side of your head, his hand around your throat tightening.
“Did you want me look at you? Did you want me to lose control?” hard, pointed questions but not as hard as him. You swallowed, slowly shaking your head.
“No? Are you sure this doesn’t excite you?” You shake your head again, this time less assertive.
“If I were to take a look, would I you reckon I like what I see?” You closed your eyes, lips slightly parted. No reply. You could feel your heat pooling down there, the fabric of your panties probably already soggy.
“That’s what I thought.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You felt him shift behind you, the bulge in his pants pressed against your rear and you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what he’d feel like. You shifted as well, ever so slightly, but created some friction against his pelvis. His grip around your throat tightened again, his breath caught in his throat for a moment, a low growl rumbled through his chest, reverberating against your back.
You tried to wriggle your arm free from his grip; he let go. You placed both hands against the surface of the table, slowly pushing your body off the top. His hand on your throat remained, but he did not stop you. You slowly craned your head back, your eyes finding his. They were harsh, unforgiving, but there was something animalistic in them which made your stomach turn to lead and the slick in your panties ever present.
You took his free hand into your own and placed it on your stomach. His was big and warm, almost burning against your skin. Your own hand was on top of his, guiding it over your stomach, the feeling leaving a tickling sensation behind. Your breathing became ragged the closer you led him to the elastic of your panties. You remained eye contact when you pushed both your hands past it until he could feel you.
You gasped when his thick digits glided along your slick slit, your nails digging into the back of his hand from the sheer electricity that curses through your veins. His hand moved down from your throat to your naked breasts, capturing one in his palm and playing with it. A quiet moan escaped your lips as you arch against his touch, eyes now closed in concentration and enjoyment.
His fingers played with you swollen clit, rubbing slow but deliberate circles against it. His head leaned forward, his nose pressed against the top of your head, his breathing becoming increasingly heavier while he tried to keep it under control. You pushed his hand further down, animating his fingers to go further. The tip of his middle finger probed against your entrance, testing the resistance but not fully entering.
“Do it.” You breathe, pressing your body against his hand.
When his fingers broke the little barrier, you almost frantically reached back behind you, cupping his clothed dick with your hand. You could feel him twitch under your touch, Sakazuki’s body temporarily tensing. His fingers moved in and out, his palm pressing against your clit while his other hand now played with your other breast. He twisted your nipple between his fingers, slightly pulling at it. You moaned sweetly, encouraging him to continue while you a little clumsily stroke him. His lips moved back to your ear where his hot breath tickled your sensitive skin.
“You sure about this?” it was an innocent question but, despite this entire situation, he needed to ask you this. You open your eyes an inch but don’t reply. Instead, you awkwardly shove your hand inside his pants, following the small hair from his trained stomach down the path to his thick trunk. He hissed when you wrapped your hand around him, his hand on your breast almost clawing at it due to the sensation.
“Shit….get on the bed.” He hissed, pulling his hand out and pushing you forward almost. You pouted at him but when you turned around to look at him, he was already unbuttoning his dress shirt. It wasn’t rushed or clumsy but you could see a certain impatience in his movements. You bit your lip as you slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, then inching back until your body leaned against the headboard.
You watched how his fingers deftly opened each button, revealing more and more of his tattoo and toned body. Despite the situation, he neatly places the shirt on the backrest of a chair before taking a step forward towards the bed. Your mouth grew increasingly drier when he reached for his belt, routinely opening it while maintaining eye contact. The sound of the fly being zipped open was too loud in your ears, your legs instinctively rubbing together in anticipation. He reached inside his open pants, fist tight around his cock while he slowly pulled it out, revealing the red, already glistering mushroom hear to your eyes.
He then deliberately kneeled on the bed, his right hand still holding his cock while his left hand reached for your ankle. Without a word, he pulled you closer, his goliath body towering above you. Your breath caught in your throat when both his hands reached for your panties, grabbing the waistband and slowly pulling them down. You bent your legs so he could remove your panties more easily, discarding them on the floor like an afterthought.
Your breathing was shallow, your eyes wide and pupils blown as Sakazuki let his gaze roam your body. When he came to your legs, his eyes shortly flickered up to yours but when you didn’t object, he placed his big hands on both of your knees, pressing them apart to expose your dripping cunt. His eyes were glued to your puffy lips, glistering in the dim light of the room. You felt exposed, averting your gaze, one finger between your teeth, chewing on it slightly shaking.
“Dirty old man.” You mumbled, trying to lighten the mood and to reassure yourself. If you two continued, there was no going back. Sakazuki looked up at you, lips pressed into a thin line.
“You want my cock?” his question took you off guard and your head snapped back to look at him, then at his heavy dick, begging to be buried inside of you. Your head nodded itself, unable to reply at the sight of him.
“Then you better behave yourself. I might even let you finish.” The small grin on his lips was sinister yet promising and it made your stomach flip in excitement.
He knew it was wrong what he did but by God he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good. When you walls engulfed him, spreading wide open for his length, the pained yet excited moans your tiny body let out, your nails digging into his forearms – he knew he would not regret it. The way he just fit so perfectly inside of you was proof enough that he had made the right decision.
When your body rocked in tandem to his thrusts, your delicious tits bouncing in sync – he wanted nothing more than to fuck your brain out. And you’d let him, he wouldn’t even have to ask. Your hair was clinging to your sweaty skin, cheeks and lips flushed red, eyes closed and mouth open, breathless moans being forced out of your body by his cock.
When he switched positions, your legs were straddling his thighs, back pressed against his chest, a strong arm wrapped around your torse, you stared directly into a mirror on the opposite wall, exposing every dirty little part of your sinful night. His other hand grabbed your chin and forced you to look at yourself in the mirror, all the while he was watching you as well. He made you watch how his dick disappeared over and over again in your wet pussy, giving you a visual to the lewd sounds your bodies were making. Your legs were trembling from all the effort of riding his length.
This night was the first time you were brought to an orgasm by a man with nothing but his dick buried deep inside of you. You hung in his arms, a lazy smile on your lips, while your love juice slowly dripped out your sore cunt, staining his pats dark.
Sakazuki didn’t say anything, not even that he still needed to finish but he would be hella stupid to paint your walls from the inside with his semen. It was irresponsible enough you two didn’t use a condom but to then also empty his load inside of you was just plainly stupid.
He placed you on the bed next to him, intending to disappear into the bathroom but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist. Your lazy smile never disappeared when you pointed at his still hard length.
Hello, here a small something for my Rob Lucci fans.
Warning: 18+, mention of s*x, mention of de*th, loss, overall not happy, smoking, numbness, hurt/comfort, non pirate AU, female reader
Pairings: Rob Lucci x female reader
Word count: 1.2k
Hot smoke is filling your lungs as you take a deep breath in and inhale the toxic air, the scratchiness in your throat and upper air passages a welcoming feeling to the numbness you have been constantly feeling. Your eyes wander to the glowing poisonous stick between your index and middle finger, studying how the glow slowly eats away the tobacco, leaving only behind gray ash that eventually falls off and lands on the black satin sheet covering your bare legs.
“I told you I hate it when you smoke in my apartment.” You don’t need to turn your head to know he is looking at you annoyed. Even when you two are intimate, when he is fucking the living shit out of you, leaving you in bite marks and bruises – his cold and annoyed façade remains. Yet, you don’t mind. He is the reason you can forget; even if it is just for a short time. You still appreciate it.
“Sorry.” You reply quietly but make no effort to stub the cigarette out. You know he has an ashtray on the nightstand next to the bed; he bought it only for you. He doesn’t smoke. He also makes you empty and clean it every time before you leave if you used it. Seems to be fair. That’s the least you can do.
“Well…put it out.” You hear him but your brain is not comprehending the words he says. You simply stare at the continuous burning of your cigarette, the taste still present on your tongue. It reminds you of Him. He rarely smoked but he had the habit of smoking one every time he came down from his high after loving you. You always complained about it when you kissed him, telling him it was like sticking your tongue into an ashtray but you got used to it to the point where it had become some odd feeling of comfort. It meant familiarity. It meant safety. It meant home.
Funny; you had never thought you’d miss the taste of cigarettes on someone’s lips so much. That’s probably also the reason why you picked up this habit shortly after you started “seeing” the man next to you.
“Hey, you hear me?” of course, you can hear him. You’re not deaf. You’re just…absent-minded. But why does he sound more annoyed than usual? He almost never tells you to stub it out so you deduce he has been having a bad day. Now, that you think about it, he also sounded irritated on the phone when you called. So, you are sure his bad mood has nothing to do with you; or at least you are not the cause of it. You contemplate if you should ask but knowing the man next to you, you know he won’t talk. You basically know nothing about him. Sometimes, it frustrates you. Some days, you want to have a conversation with him, to tell him about your day, about your feelings, about you fear. But he doesn’t want to hear it. He had made it abundantly clear that this relationship or however you want to call it, is purely physical. And you agreed to it, but still…
A big hand harshly grabs your wrist and takes away the cigarette glimmering away between your fingers and angrily stubs it out in the ashtray. His hot breath ghosts your neck and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine. “I do not like to repeat myself.” He hisses, the sound almost animalistic. His grip tightens before he lets go, leaving an angry red handprint around your wrist. In moments like this you are reminded that this man is dangerous.
“Now, if you are done for today, I suggest you get dressed and fuck off. I need to go back to work.” You see him sit on the edge of the bed out of the corner of your eyes, his muscular back facing you, his long black hair elegantly falling over his shoulders. A big tattoo is covering almost his entire back - some kind of cross with circles on each side and one in the middle. You would like to know the meaning but you don’t ask.
There are scars on his skin; too many to be accidental, too small to be life threatening. The one on his stomach, however, seems to have been more serious. You once dared to ask him what happened. In response, he simple turned you around, pressed your head into the pillow and pounded into you until he was satisfied.
When you weren’t thinking about Him and imagining a life you could never have, you thought about the possible jobs he could be doing. Secret agent, assassin, military, special forces. The list could go on but are the most likely you decided. But you never asked. He wouldn’t give you an answer anyway so why bother?
His body tenses momentarily when you gently grab his arm. He doesn’t turn his head to you completely but enough for you to see his harsh brown eyes staring at you.
“I don’t wanna be alone.” Your voice is almost a whisper but you know he can hear you loud and clear.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t reply, he just looks at you. He is contemplating. You know he has no sympathy for your situation. He is not the compassionate type. Sometimes you even have the impression that he has sociopathic tendencies. Yet, you don’t care. You welcome it, even. Everyone else looks at you in pity. They don’t look at you as a person. They only see the woman who lost her husband. And you hate it. You hate it to the bone. He doesn’t. He looks at you as if you are vermin yet you don’t care.
You inch closer, embracing him from behind as you wrap both arms around his strong torso. Your lips find his sharp jawline and your lips follow the bone to his ear. You know he likes it. He would never admit it out loud but he enjoys it when you tease him with small kisses. It makes him almost tame.
You gently put his earlobe between your lips and suckle on it, your hands caressing his flat stomach and chest. It almost sounds like he is purring when a dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. He snakes a strong arm around your waist and starts kissing your neck in return, tracing a bite mark with his tongue.
“Why should I care?” he whispers into your ear. You lean back and turn your head to look at him as good as you can. What a beautiful man. What a dangerous predator.
“You don’t have to care. I just want you to make me forget.”
A dangerous smile creeps onto his sinful lips.
He presses you slowly into the mattress with his weight while his teeth sink into your neck. The fingers on your waist dig painfully into your delicate skin.
If there is one thing you know for certain about Rob Lucci then that he can make you forget; even if it is just for a moment.
Happy Valentine's Day! New story for Sakazuki. I just can't stop it. Hope you enjoy this piece of sm*t.
Warnings: older man / younger woman, mentor / mentee, p in v s*x, sm*t, kinda childhood tra*ma
Relationship: Sakazuki x female reader
Word count: 3.7k (kinda went a little overboard)
This was wrong. This was so wrong. This was so, so wrong! But it felt so unbefuckinglievable good! So, was it really wrong? His hands clawed at the armrest of his office chair, his usually harsh eyes now looking down at you hooded. He had never imagined what you looked like on your knees between his legs, struggling to take his hard dick into your mouth but by god he would never forget this image ever again. Until now he didn’t know it was something he needed and he wished he could take a picture of you sucking him off so he could cherishthis moment forever.
And yet, the internal conflict was apparent to anyone who might’ve seen him right now.
A feint blush was still visible on your cheeks, a doubtful yet exciting feeling raging inside your body. Sakazuki couldn’t hide a mischievous grin when you had unpacked his member and your head started to glow in the deepest shade of red he had ever seen. The surprise and embarrassment were too apparent on your face. You didn’t even try to hide it.
It took some time before you swallowed the lump in your throat and put your tongue out, licking over the thick mushroom head. With a quick look at the fleet admiral, you got the reassurance to continue. You wrapped a hand around the base of his member, feeling the smooth skin under your touch and a slight pulsing. You moved your hand up and down carefully, uncertain of how he liked it. Naturally, you’ve never talked about this before.
“Harder.” He ordered, his voice not leaving any room to argue and it send an excited shiver down your spine. You, of course, obeyed his command and your grip around him tightened, spreading some of his pre-cum over his entire length, creating a slick sound whenever your hand glided over his erection.
When you felt confident enough, you eventually opened your mouth wide to let the tip slip between your lips. Sakazuki’s dick twitched excitedly in your mouth you were certain you heard him silently sigh in relief. What a dirty old man….you internally chuckled but were reminded very quickly that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you so weren’t you just as dirty?
It was uncomfortable to have him fill out your entire mouth and your jaw got sore rather quickly. You probably could’ve just continued with your hands but your pride would not allow you to back down now. You were obviously struggling but Akainu would be an idiot to tell you to stop.
He lifted his hand but hesitated for a moment before he placed it behind your head, guiding it gently while stroked your hair. It was very uncharacteristic of him to be so soft but he knew he would get rough with you rather sooner than later so you should appreciate this treatment while it lasted.
When he pushed your head a little bit further down your gag reflex kicked in and you instinctively clawed at his muscular thighs while tears started gathering in the corners of your eyes. Saliva ran down your chin but you couldn’t really do anything about it since Sakazuki didn’t let you remove your head. So, you had to endure him pushing your further and further down his dick; not violently but it was awkward and uncomfortable nevertheless.
Sakazuki watched how you struggled while he pushed you down more and more, inch by inch. He didn’t comment on the fact he wasn’t even halfway down and you were already struggling. The gagging sounds that were coming from your small form were like music to his ears and your tiny hands that dug into his thighs gave the extra kick. In the back of his mind he thought that it served you and your bratty mouth right that he stuffed it with his dick.
“Good girl.” He murmured, eliciting a needy sounding whimper from you.
“Though I never took you for such a slut. Do you like sucking my dick? Is it something you’ve thought about before?” he teased, not letting you take a breath and retort something. Instead, he pushed you down even further until his dick went down your throat. Panic settled in and you tried to push yourself off of him – unsuccessfully. Your hands started shoving at him and you glared at him through tearful eyes. More and more saliva leaked out of your mouth and down your chin, making you feel slightly humiliated by the man in front of you.
“Relax.” Sakazuki simply said but he almost choked on his own words when you swallowed around him, your throat tightening around his dick oh so sweetly, and a challenging glint in your teary eyes. He gripped your hair harshly and pulled you off, an angry look on his face. You, on the other hand, took in a deep breath, your lungs finally being filled with the much-needed air again.
“I swear, if it wasn’t you I would fuck your mouth until you’d lose consciousness.” He growled.
You wiped the saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand and wiped away the tears as well.
“I thought you’d like it…” you innocently replied. Sakazuki pressed his lips together tightly, biting back a remark. Of course, he liked it but when the fuck did you have to surprise him like this? He would not show any weakness in front of you by releasing his load early.
You leaned back in and pressed a kiss against the tip of his dick before your tongue licked at the pre-cum. Other than the taste it reminded you of your childhood. To be more precise, of one of the first memories you’ve had of Sakazuki. He had given you a strawberry ice cream in a cone. You haven’t even talked to the man yet but here you were, eating ice cream while he, Sengkoku and Kong were talking in Kong’s office. You later found out that he only gave you the ice cream because Sengoku ordered him to.
You didn’t really care what they were talking about but you noticed their looks every now and then on you. And who could blame them? Your clothes were covered in blood and dirt yet there was no scratch on your tiny body, meaning this was not your blood. You were found by the marine during a raid of a pirate island and taken in. Sakazuki suggested they just kill you since you were a “pirate” but Sengkoku would not let him. Instead, you were taken with them on their navy ship and to Marineford.,
It was later decided that you’d stay here and be trained as a marine and Sakazuki was in charge of your training. To no one’s surprise he objected but was overruled by Kong.
Sakazuki didn’t hide the fact that he despised you. His training was harsh and on more than one occasion your were close to death. But the more you trained and the older you got, the stronger you became and so Sakazuki’s disdain for you turned into somewhat acknowledgment. You weren’t sure if he was actually proud of you becoming stronger or if he was just proud of himself. You never questioned it. You were happy that he didn’t seem to hate you anymore.
The more time passed, the more comfortable you became around him and you somewhat saw him as a father figure. You never dared to call him dad, too scared of the consequences.
Of course, when you became a teenager, you became more difficult. Sakazuki’s fuse was short anyway but with a bratty teenager around he was even more annoyed. And so, his training became harder as well. He plagued you with so many exercises, drills, and whatnot. You two got into screaming matches multiple times a day. Many marines were worried about your safety but nobody interfered.
When Sakazuki was promoted to admiral, you were 15. He spent less time with you but you were glad about it. Over the years, you had developed a bitterness and repulsion towards the man to the point where you wanted to hurt him. You knew you couldn’t do it. Not because you were reluctant but because he would beat you senseless. You needed to become stronger. So, you ran away.
When you saw him again years later, all the anger came bubbling back up and you couldn’t hold yourself back and attacked him. By now, you had become a pirate with a decent bounty which made the fleet admiral furious. All the hard work he had put into your training has been for northing! He wanted to capture you. Shit, he wanted to kill you! But when he was pushing you to the ground, ready to strike, he couldn’t. He had cared for your (one way or another) for ten years and even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even himself, he had cared for you in some way. So, he opted to taking you in as a prisoner.
He usually didn’t think twice about prisoners and simply send them to Impeldown but he had the urge to scream at you, to ask you what the hell was wrong with you. But you screamed back. And here you two were again, screaming at each other with nobody daring to interfere. Until you both were silent. Until you both had said everything you wanted to. Until there was simply nothing more to say.
You were leaning against his giant desk, arms crossed angrily in front of your chest, a grim expression on your face. Sakazuki stood across from you, looking just as angry and his fingers digging into his enormous biceps. God, how much he wanted to just burn you and get on with his life. It would be so much easier if you were dead and not in Impeldown. He also would never admit this, but he’d have to think about what would happen to you at prison. Impeldown wasn’t necessarily a safe place, especially not for young women like you.
Now, that he thought about it, you were not a child anymore, nor a bratty teenager. You were a bratty adult. A bratty, grown woman. Sakazuki realized, that he didn’t see you as the child he took care of anymore nor as a dirty pirate he needed to take down. Damn, he saw you as someone who could please him in the bedroom while screaming his name. Fuck.
You used the silence to cool down and while your were able to gather your thoughts again you realized that you weren’t angry anymore. You had thrown everything you’ve had at the now fleet admiral and everything that was now left was hurt…
…and something else. Something, you couldn’t quite point out what it was but it felt somewhat familiar. You just hadn’t felt it in this kind of situation before.
You heard Sakazuki sigh and march past you to his office chair where he sat down, his thumb and index finger rubbing at the bridge of his nose to make the headache you gave him go away.
You didn’t turn around to look at him but you felt his eyes on you which gave you goosebumps.
“What now?” you asked. There was another stretch of silence before the fleet admiral answered.
“You will be sent to Impeldown.” He dryly replied, making you tense at his words.
“And if I don’t want to?”
“You have no choice, Y/n.”
That was true yet you didn’t want to accept it.
You turned around, now looking at the man. Sakazuki’s eyes never left you as you slowly rounded his desk to stand next to him. Even when he was sitting was he still taller than you. The fleet admiral turned his chair slightly to look at you, his expression as grim as ever, matching your own.
You stepped forward, your knee slightly bumping against his leg. There was no explanation why you did it but the closer you got to him, the stronger this feeling you couldn’t decipher became: Attraction. Primal attraction, to be precise. You had the almost unhealthy desire to strip naked in front of him and let him have his way with you yet you knew this was forbidden. In a sense. Somewhat. Maybe. In your head.
You were not related but it felt strange looking at him as anything but a father figure, even if he was a shitty father figure. You shouldn’t feel attracted to your default father yet you couldn’t deny how your thoughts turned dirty the longer you looked at him. You felt how his eyes were fixed on while your own took in small details of his body. For example, how thick and muscular his neck was, or how the tattoo perfectly complemented his skin, or how the fabric of his shirt stretched over his muscles, or how you could make out the faint outlines of his member in his trousers.
You should look away. You really should. But you couldn’t bring yourself to pry your eyes away from his crown jewels.
“Want to tell me why you are staring at my crotch?” his voice was calm and you wanted to avert your eyes from his lap but his legs shuffling apart suggestively had you pause. Your heart started hammering in your chest, your mind racing at what you should do next.
Your eyes dart up to his. You can’t read his expression but there is something….new in his eyes. It seems dark and primal and makes the small butterflies in your stomach go rampant. You stare into his eyes, unable to look away, feeling more and more insecure around him. He cocked his head slightly, trying to figure out if you will actually do it. You shouldn’t want to but he secretly hoped you’d still do it.
You swallowed hard, clenching your fists while taking a deep breath. Then, you went down in front of him on your knees, body tense but your hormones were through the roof. Sakazuki’s eyes widen in disbelief but he kept quiet. Were you really doing this? Your hands on his pants were answer enough…
Sakazuki pulled you up by the hair, his pupils blown wide from arousal. Your lips were swollen and wet from sucking him just moments ago and you were out of breath. His hand let go of your hair and moved to your neck instead. He pulled you closer towards him, leaned down until your lips almost touched.
You felt his free hand move to your waist and under your shirt; it was hot against your skin but not unpleasantly. He shortly caressed your waist before his hand moved to your stomach and the up, inching closer and closer to your breasts. Your breath hitched in your throat when he touched you there and you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer.
Your lips crashed against his in a heated kiss. He grabbed your tit harshly and kneaded it. You mewled against his mouth, your own hands starting to hastily unbutton his floral shirt, revealing his trained body. Sakazuki growled against your lips before he removed your shirt and bra. He broke the kiss to appreciate the view in front of him but you didn’t give him too much time to do so. You leaned in and climbed onto his lap, your lips finding his neck while your hands roamed his torso.
The fleet admiral grabbed your ass, making you moan against his skin. Shit, you were so horny. You strained your neck to reach his ear. Your teeth nibbled slightly at his earlobe before you whispered “please….touch me…..”.
Sakazuki pushed you off him only to open your pants and pull them down. You barely had time to kick off your shoes before you stood completely naked in front of him. This time, he pulled you back onto his lap, both his hands grabbing your thighs and slowly moving them up, getting closer and closer to your wet core.
You let your head fall forward and leaned your forehead against his chest when he finally touched you down there. Your breath was shaky when Sakazuki’s finger pressed against the small bud and started circling. Your hand moved down to his hard cock and moved it up and down around his length.
The fleet admiral hissed at the pleasure. His thick finger started teasing your entrance before he entered you, your wet warmth enveloping his digit. You whimpered at the unfamiliar stretch but your hips quickly started moving against his finger and your own hand around his dick moved in tandem to his finger.
It didn’t take long for Sakazuki to add a second and then a third finger, stretching you for his dick.
“Shit….!” You breathed out, taking in a sharp breath in when he hit that special spot inside of you.
“Fuck me!” you looked up at him almost desperately, lips red and pupils blown wide. Sakazuki’s dick twitched in your hand at your words and you didn’t have to ask him twice. He pulled his fingers out and swiftly lifted you up to place you on his desk, his huge body looming over yours. You felt tiny compared to him. Now, that the “deed” was getting closer, you got nervous. His fingers were big but his dick was on another level.
Sakazuki pulled your hips closer to his own to the edge of the desk, the length of his dick pressing against your entrance. He rubbed his dick against your folds, his hands having an iron grip on your hips.
The fleet admiral paused for a moment, looking at your flustered form on his desk, all naked and ready for him to take. But should he really do it? He still had the opportunity to end this, to close his pants and give you your clothes back before he had you taken to Impeldown. But this thought was swiftly thrown overboard when your hand reached out for him, asking him to come closer.
Sakazuki leaned down and let you grab the back of his neck and pull him in into another heated kiss. He demanded you part your lips so he could explore your mouth while his hand lined his dick up with his entrance.
“Take a deep breath” he murmured against your lips before he slowly pushed himself inside of you.
Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and the pain and your nails dug into his skin until you were drawing blood.
“Fuck…” you hissed, breaking the kiss and blinking the tears away that were about to roll down your cheeks.
Sakazuki took in a deep breath as your tightness embraced him, forcing himself to control himself and not just start fucking you. Really, if you were anyone else he wouldn’t be so considerate but even his consideration had limits. You better got used to him or this wouldn’t be as pleasurable for you as it was for him.
“Relax.” He gave the very helpful advice and you wanted to punch him for that. You didn’t. Instead, you tried to heed his words and relax but it was easier said than done. Your grip on his neck loosened and you looked up at him, biting your lips anxiously.
“C-can you….can you touch me?” God, how thrilled he was to hear you ask him that. He was tempted to ask you exactly what you wanted but he figured he shouldn’t push his luck and have you screaming at him again. So, he complied and his thumb found your clit, circling it again, making you relax under his touch.
It didn’t take long until he pushed further inside of you, your juice coating his length, making it relatively easy for him to move. When he was halfway in, he pulled out until only the tip was left, then he pushed back in, this time until he bottomed out inside of you. A guttural moan was forced out of your body and your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer. Sakazuki took this as a sign to start thrusting inside of you. He pulled out before his hips snapped back forth, rocking the entire desk with each thrust and making you moan and pant with lust.
Akainu’s hand on your hip kept you in place while his other was still stimulating your clit, his eyes watching your messy state. Your boobs were wiggling in tandem to his thrusts, tempting him to catch one with his mouth but he didn’t. Instead, he moved your body to the side, placing your one leg against his chest, giving him a better angle as he resumed fucking you from the side.
“Fuck….Sakazuki…!” you moaned, arching your back as he picked up his pace, his dick almost hammering into you, your brain slowly but surely waving goodbye as Akainu fucked you stupid. Sakazuki leaned down, stretching your leg uncomfortably far but you didn’t care. The new angle this created was enough to completely lose your mind and fully submit to the man above you.
The fleet admiral grunted at your pussy sucking him in, your juice creating lewd sounds while he fucked into you.
“I’m close…..!” you panted, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “Can I cum, please?”
Shit, now you were asking him if you were allowed to cum?
“Already?” he teased, stopping his onslaught at your pussy and instead moved sadistically slowly. You whined at his tempo and nodded, trying to move against him but he wouldn’t let you.
“Since you asked me so nicely….not a chance.” Your expression dropped at his words, fearing what he had in stow for you. Sakazuki grabbed both your thighs and pressed your legs far apart, a devious grin on his lips.
“You just need to be a good girl for me a little longer. Maybe then will I let you cum.”
Well hello, it's me again. Being sick and bored really gives you time to think of stories, even if they are really dark.
Here is part two of the Mihawk story and it got even darker. Please read the trigger warning.
Warnings: blood, mental ab*se, physical ab*se, vi*lence, implied human tr*fficking, dark!!, Crocodile being a little too vi*lent, kind of Stockholm syndrome
Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, female reader
Word count: 1.4k
Part One
His rough hand ran over your wet and sticky hair, the pungent smell of fresh and dried blood in the air. Your breathing was shallow and he knew he should better call a medic if he didn’t want you to die. But he didn’t. His eyes were absentmindedly looking at the opposite wall, thinking about nothing in particular. He tucked a strand of bloodied hair behind your ear before he softly caressed your soft cheek.
“Please….” Your voice was barely audible yet he could hear you perfectly clear. His golden eyes look down to your beaten face which was resting on his thigh, tears silently running down your face and disappearing into the thick fabric of his pants. You were barely able to stay conscious, one hand supporting your weight on the cold floor, your other hand clinging to his leg.
Everything hurt. It was easier to point at something that didn’t than describing which parts of your body had taken damage. The warmth of his thigh gave you some twisted sense of comfort; you were scared to death of this man yet you needed the company he currently provided you.
When his thumb gently wiped away your tears, you took in a shaky breath. A painful twinge in your lungs constantly reminded you that someone, perhaps Sir Crocodile, had damaged something severely inside of you that could potentially end for you in death.
You had no idea how long you’ve already been here in this room; minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days and maybe days gave already turned into weeks. By this point you were painfully aware that both Crocodile as well as Mihawk knew that you knew nothing yet they haven’t killed you yet. Instead, you had become the punching back for them, enduring all sorts of physical and psychological torture both of them had thrown at you.
Whereas Crocodile’s methods were more brutal, Mihawk had a more “tame” approach. He tortured you with his words, making you feel more and more hopeless with every visit. You didn’t know which was worse. Crocodile’s abuse would heal, Mihawk’s words were stuck in your head.
Today was different. Usually, Crocodile and MIhawk came independent from each other. So, you were surprised to see both of them suddenly standing in the small room they held you captive. Without saying a word, Crocodile’s hand was around your neck while the other punched you in your stomach repeatedly. You wanted to throw up but the lack of food only made you dry heave. The nausea remained nevertheless. Your vision soon turned blurry and your eyes became unfocused. Every now and then they fell on Mihawk who was silently leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, just watching the other man’s brutal assault on you.
When Crocodile left, Mihawk took a seat on the only chair in this room, his eyes never leaving your beaten form. At some point he ordered you with a “Come here” to come to him and you followed it without a second thought. He didn’t say anything else, even when you crawled towards him like some obedient dog and placed your dirty face on his thigh. And then you stayed like this.
“I want you to tell me something.” Mihawk calmly said out of seemingly nowhere. You remained silent, thinking that you have already told them almost everything you knew, even though it was very little.
“How much do you think your life is worth?” Now this question surprised you. Your eyes looked up to the man, ignoring the nauseating feeling that crept over your body again. Mihawk’s hand moved down from your cheek over your chin and to your bruised neck. His eyes looked at you expectantly and the not so subtle threat of his hand on your neck made you feel anxious.
“I…I don’t know.” You replied truthfully.
“Take a guess.” Mihawk insisted, expecting you to give him a number. How do you put a number on a human’s life, let alone your own? So, you simply replied with a number you thought could be a valid number for a person’s life, if there even was a “valid number”.
“10.000 million.” You croaked. There was a moment of silence while MIhawk just looked at you.
“$4.62.” He responded. You must’ve looked at him confused because he clarified.
“While I was thinking about what to do with you I had the idea I could just sell you...”
No.
“…so I asked a few people if they were interested in buying you…”
No!
“…. $4.62 was the best offer I got.”
NO!
“It is nothing near what you owe me but at this point I have cut my losses and moved on. Of course, if I ever get my hands on your friends, they will have to endure a similar fate as you, maybe even worse,. But for now, this will do.”
Mihawk grabbed your chin between his fingers and made you look at him directly. You looked at him in disbelief, your brain not comprehending what he just said.
“You can’t do this….” You whispered.
“I reckon I can. You seem to be in no position to oppose me in any way so I’m curious what you plan on doing.” He was messing with you. There was no way he would just sell you for less than $5, right? This was one of his little psychological games.
His grip became stronger and his fingertips pressed uncomfortably into your cheeks. He leaned down, his face coming closer to yours; you could feel his warm breath against your wet skin.
“Tell me, Y/n. What do you want to do about it?” his tone was mocking you and despair spread through your trembling body.
“This isn’t fair….” Your heart felt heavy and your head was empty. He could not do this!
“This isn’t fair!” you finally yelled at him and yanked your face away from his grip, ignoring the pain in your body. You inched away from the monster, your eyes not leaving him as you watched him casually get up from the chair and walking towards you.
He didn’t have to go far, though, since the room wasn’t particularly big and you soon bumped into the wall behind you.
“That’s right, it isn’t fair. Yet you are the only one I can punish for the loss of my money so you should thank your friends for this situation. Though I wonder, are they really your friends? Getting you into trouble like this and not even telling you about the whole plan?” Mihawk mused.
“….”
“I thought so. Oh well, isn’t it a shame they’re getting away with it.”
You averted your gaze but couldn’t help but clench your hands into tight fists. He was right. All this time you told them you didn’t know where your acquaintances, your friends, were. You weren’t 100% sure they were still at one of your hiding places but there was a chance. Even though you knew most interactions with your organization were “business” replated you had considered some of the other members your friends. Apparently, this assumption was not mutual.
Mihawk turned around to walk towards the door, intending to leave the room and leave you alone with your thoughts and the inner conflict. Though, there was no conflict; not anymore.
“You have to promise not to…not sell me.” You spoke up. You bit your bottom lip while you held your breath, waiting for his reply. When he remained silent but also didn’t leave the room, you continued.
“We have multiple hideouts but we frequently changed them. The most recent ones are in the catacombs of the old church 6 blocks from the mall and an abandoned warehouse near the docks. Building 106. I don’t know if they are still there.” You concluded, your eyes staring at his muscular back, waiting for his reaction.
Mihawk remained silent for a little longer, taking in the information he had desired all along. Finally, he though slightly annoyed. Took you long enough. Without acknowledging you any longer, he reached for the doorknob.
“Please! You have to promise!” your voice was pleading, desperate, and on the verge of breaking.
“Never said I would.” And with that, he left the room, leaving you behind, alone with your despair.
Hellooooo....it's been a minute but I'm kinda back with a new story. It's a mafia AU with Mihawk and Crocodile. I'm still thinking about turning this into a multi-chapter story with smutty content later but not sure yet. Also, wanted to see your reaction if anyone is even interested. Please let me know how you liked it!
Warnings: mention of torture, threat of death, waterboarding, mention of blood, reader is in great danger, mention of other bodily fluids
Charakters: Dracule Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Buggy the Clown, female reader
Word count: 1.5k
Part Two
The impatient thudding of the tips of his long fingers against the dark wood of his mahogany desk was the only sound you could hear over your heavy breathing and the blood rushing in your ears. You were soaking wet; water was running down your face, your neck and disappearing into your soaking clothes. Strands of wet hair clung to your cold skin and your entire body was shivering. You felt dizzy.
Next to you stood a man with a big cigar between his lips, holding a half-empty canister that was previously filled to the brim with water. His lips were forming a sadistic smile at your pathetic sight and he was more than ready to place the dirty towel back over your face and start the torture once again.
“Are you sure you have no idea where your people hid the money?” his piercing amber eyes, that seemed to be almost yellow depending on how the light fell, looked at you almost bored yet observant and his voice matched that expression; his tone was nonchalant but had a certain edge to it that would not permit any kind of defiance.
“Of course, she knows where the money is! She is the one who fucking stole it!” that voice you knew. Next to the big desk was a fancy-looking sofa where the supposed head of this organization was sitting. You (and really anyone you knew) have been under the impression that he was running everything. Sure, he didn’t look like a lot but he had practically an army from thugs to clod-blooded murderers underneath him, so he was certainly not someone to mess with. But when he was silenced with a single glare from the man in front of you, you weren’t so sure anymore who actually was in charge.
“If you can’t behave, I suggest you leave, clown.” The man mumbled but it had the desired effect – Buggy was silent. Now, his attention was all back on you and you couldn’t say you were particularly happy about that.
“I am still waiting for an answer. Or do we have to waste some more water on you?” A shuffle next to you put your whole body back on edge.
“I don’t know anything! I’m just the driver!” the words tumble over your tongue hastily, hoping to escape another round of waterboarding.
“Yes, that’s what you said before yet somehow I don’t believe you.” The man in front of you mused. He glanced to his partner who was standing next to you. “How about you, Crocodile?”
You’ve heard that name before but never had a face to it. Sir Crocodile – nobody knew his real name – was notorious, even among people in the underworld. If you didn’t have a particular death wish you made sure to stay clear of his business. But why was he here?
“I think our little guest here knows more than she wants to admit. But this one is your call, Hawkeye.”
You suddenly felt nauseous, your blood ran cold, bile started to threaten up your throat, and your entire body started shaking uncontrollably. Hawkeye. Why was he here? As with Sir Crocodile, you had no idea what Hawkeye, Dracule MIhawk, really looked like but apparently, he was sitting right in front of you. If luck wasn’t on your side before with Sir Crocodile next to you, it had now outright abandoned you and thrown you to the wolves altogether. You balled your tied hands into fists, trying to wrench yourself free from your restraints but to no avail.
Mihawk sighed seemingly defeated and nodded his head quickly in affirmation.
“No!” You yelled but the towel was pressed onto your face once more, the chair was pulled back and immediately water started pouring out of the canister and onto your face.
Hawkeye watched as the other man attempted to drown you, his fingers non-stop tapping against the dark wood. He didn’t know if he should believe you or not but quite frankly, he didn’t really care. Even if you told the truth and were some oblivious little girl – you were still part of the group who stole his money. And that was something he couldn’t let slide.
He watched passively as your body convulsed under the water; how you tried to turn your head but the towel clung to your face like a second skin. He knew Crocodile wouldn’t kill you unless he gave the OK so he averted his gaze to his right where Buggy was still sitting, his eyes glued to your struggling form.
“Get out.” Mihawk simply said. Buggy’s head snapped towards him with a venomous glare but was quick to rethink his next words carefully.
“But-“
“I said get out. Or you’re next.” Without saying another word, the clown got up and left the room through a side-door which lead to another office.
Mihawk’s attention was brought back to you when you started coughing violently as Crocodile removed the towel, the canister still filled to a quarter. He was glad he thought ahead when deciding on their new operating base. This room had a concrete floor with a drain in the middle. The expensive carpet that usually embellished the cold floor was neatly placed at the far end of the room.
Your lungs were burning and your vision was blurry. Your knuckles had turned white from how fiercely your hands clawed at the armrest of the chair you were tied to. “Please….” You whimpered between coughs.
“I don’t know anything. Please, believe me.” Your pleading was met with silence from Mihawk and an amused chuckle from Crocodile.
Your eyes started to focus again and you looked at the man in front of you, begging him silently with your eyes to believe you, to stop hurting you, and to please let you go.
“Please, let me leave.” You whispered; tears started rolling down your cheeks.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” uncontrollable sobs left your body and you started crying shamelessly. Your head hung low as you were shaking your head over and over in denial but that wouldn’t save you.
Hawkeye got up from his chair and slowly walked around the desk until he stood beside you. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see his black boots. You instinctively inched away when he crouched down beside you, holding a knife in his one hand while the other one played with the sharp blade.
“Please…” you tried again but MIhawk shushed you.
“You see, I’m quite in a predicament here.” He started and he traced the blade of his knife over your leg, cutting through the thick denim of your jeans in the process. A whimper escaped your lips. “Don’t…”
“If you are lying and I’m letting you go, that would give people the wrong impression of me. If you are not lying and I let you go, people would still get the wrong impression of me. You might not be the one who stole from me but someone else from your organization sure did and it would let people believe that I am easy to steal from. So, the only option where I at least would keep my good name would be to simply kill you.” The pressure on your leg increased and you screamed in pain and at his words.
“If you don’t know anything, you are worthless to me and if you do know something you probably won’t tell me. Either way, I have no use for you anymore.”
“No, no, please!” panic took over your mind and body and you’d do anything to survive this ordeal. “What if I do know something!” you tried to bargain, knowing fully well that you knew nothing.
Mihawk’s lips were pressed into a joyless smile, his eyes were looking at you almost pitiful. Almost.
“I’d kill you faster as a reward.” His voice could’ve sunk the titanic by how cold it was. Your heart sunk to your stomach, all blood that was still in your head also seemed to leave as you looked at the man, the monster, in front of you, telling you calmly that he’d end your life no matter what.
Your brain was unable to grasp the thought of death as you suddenly felt extremely tired. It was as if someone put a warm blanket over your head that slowly drained out the last bit of light. Were you dying? But where was the pain? There was something warm running down your legs so were you already bleeding to death? It felt soothing. Your breathing became slower and slower, Mihawk’s face became nothing but a blur and then there was darkness.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“She passed out.” Crocodile noted amused as he pressed his cigar out in the ashtray on the desk. Mihawk nodded and got back up, his eyes looking at your unconscious form.
Hello everyone. So I had another commission two months ago and this time it was about Dabi. I honestly find it quite difficult for him to write but I did my best. This is part one of two (not sure when / if I'll get the second part of the commission though). Hope you enjoy it and looking forward to your feedback!
Warnings: playing mind games, Dabi being a little sh*t, stalking, paranoia, Dabi still has black hair and goes by the name Dabi
Pairing: Dabi x female reader
Word count: 5.8k
You wish you never opened your eyes. You wish you were still asleep, dreaming of God knows what. You would even prefer dreaming about being stuck in a crowded place, desperately waiting to get away; anything would be better than what you are currently staring at.
You pull your blanket closer to your face, your eyes wide open with fear and shock as a pair of piercing, ice blue eyes stare right back at you. Your heart is pounding inside your chest, threatening to burst right out of your ribcage and run as far away from this situation as possible, leaving you behind.
You don’t dare avert your gaze from his, afraid he’d do something the moment your attention wasn’t 100% focused on him. The longer you stare at him, the more your eyes get used to the darkness inside your room and the more you are able to make out more than just his eyes.
Your heartrate quickens (if that’s even possible) when realization hits you that you’ve met this person before. The shadow in the corner of your room seems to notice your realization as a lazy smile forms on his lips, his eyes hooded with satisfaction.
“Please don’t hurt me.” Your voice cracks and sounds higher than usual but that’s what fear does to your body. It paralyzes you to the point where you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. You know people react differently to fear and the prospect of death. It is commonly known as fight of flight mode. Your uncle once told you that he fought off an entire gang of villains (you still doubt it was a gang) because they threatened your aunt. He just acted on instinct and fended them off. You wish you had the same courage, to simply stand up to this person and fight. But that’s just not how you are; that’s not who you are.
He steps closer to your bed, his hands buried deep inside his pockets, his predatory eyes glinting with anticipation. It’s the same glint he had in his eyes the first (and only) time you met him a couple of weeks ago. He was charming but he made you feel uneasy; you’re not good with human interactions and when someone comes off too strong your brain just doesn’t know how to handle the situation. Back then, you discarded the uneasy feeling due to your lack of social skills. Why couldn’t you listen just once to your gut feeling?
He stops in front of your bed; he could grab your feet if he wanted to and instinctively you pull them closer to your body, pressing your legs against your chest.
The man chuckles and leans forward, his hands gripping the frame of your bed.
“That depends on you.”
.
.
.
His eyes follow random people walking by with as much interest as someone doing their taxes. None of them piques his interest, none of them would be potential candidates for the League of Villains (he still thinks it’s a stupid name but he’s not the leader nor does he particularly care). After the first meeting a couple of weeks ago with Shigaraki he’s been out looking for like-minded villains but he didn’t seem to find the right people. All of them have been a waste of time so far and he’s starting to get bored with his task. He needs some distraction.
Dabi walks past the shops of a not so busy street; the stares of the people not bothering him in the slightest. Let them stare, he’d think. They’ll stare even more once they know the truth about him.
You have to mentally prepare yourself to order this much-needed coffee you’ve been craving for the past two days. You had asked your mom to bring you one when she went grocery shopping but she told you to “get your lazy ass outside once in a while and get the coffee yourself”. So now, here you are, leaving the comfort of your cozy room just for some coffee.
“Next, please!” you take a deep breath and step forward, your face already feeling hot and you’re sure you must look like you’re in pain because the barista looks at you concerned.
“What can I get you?”
“Can I….can I get a lall….” You feel your face heat up more and more and you are certain the other people behind you are staring at you, judging your incompetence while ordering a simple coffee. The barista smiles at you encouraging but you know he is judging you as well! He thinks you’re pitiful and pathetic and he is right. He opens his mouth to inquire what you want when you take a deep breath and burst out your order.
“Canigetalargecoffewithextramilkandsugar!?” Everyone goes quiet around you and you want to sink into the ground and just disappear.
The barista looks at you wide eyed before he nods and repeats your order, just slower.
“One large coffee with extra milk and sugar. ‘s that correct?” he asks and you just nod. He types it in and asks you if you need anything else but you just mumble out a “no thank you”. He nods again and tells you the total.
You grab your purse and look for your wallet, praying to God that you didn’t leave it at home. Relief floods you when you feel it and pull it out. With shaky hands you draw your credit card and place it against the card reader. A quick beep informs you that your card has been approved and the barista tells you to please wait for your coffee.
It was sheer coincidence that Dabi waked past this coffee shop and just so happened to witness this bizarre interaction. He couldn’t help but stop and follow your struggle with his eyes. Sure, he didn’t hear what you were saying but he isn’t stupid; the reaction from the people around you told him everything he needed to know.
He watches you grab your coffee hurriedly and you seem to be looking for a seat inside the café but the only seats available are the once outside. He tries to guess whether you will sit outside or just leave but both options seem to be likely.
To his delight you choose to sit at one of the tables outside; the furthest away from everyone of course to have as few interactions as possible. You are small, almost fragile looking and your glasses make you look younger than you probably are. Oh, it’s been a while since Dabi found someone so…..timid, so…..not prepared for the real world. He’d go as far as to say that interacting with other people causes you some sort of mental pain but that’s just a hunch. He watches you take out your phone and headphones, brushing away your short hair to move them out of the way. “Forget it.” He mumbles to himself and strides over to where you’re sitting, his hands buried deep inside his pockets.
You notice a shadow but don’t look up, thinking it’s either just someone passing by or a beggar wanting some change. You are mistaken. With a dull thud someone drops down into the chair next to you, one arm leisurely resting on the backrest of your chair. Your whole body tenses and you don’t dare to look up but you feel the person next to you is eyeing you intently to the point where it’s way past being uncomfortable.
You slowly turn your head to your left; the first thing you see are a pair of thick black boots firmly placed on the ground. The coat he’s wearing almost touches the ground as well but not quite. His dark pants are held up by a grey belt and underneath this long coat he’s wearing a white shirt. You want to say something but every word that might have come out of your mouth his being silenced by the horrendous look that presents itself in front of you when you see his face.
Dark red, charred, patches of skin seem to be attached to the rest of his face by nothing but staples. Your mouth hangs open and you feel like you’re in some kind of horror movie. Is he a zombie.
“It’s rude to stare.” The man says in a monotone voice though you’re sure there is a glint of amusement in his hooded turquoise eyes. The three piercings in his nose twinkle in the sun light as well as the staples.
Out of the corner of your eyes you see his arm resting on your chair and you lean forward just a little bit in order not to touch him. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“Whatcha drinkin’?” he asks nodding towards your coffee. You are completely overwhelmed by this situation and you sheepishly look around for help but everyone is ignoring you. Of course, the two freaks must know each other, you think angrily to yourself but this doesn’t get you out of this situation.
“C-coffee…” you mumble and Dabi has to lean forward in order to catch what you’re saying. You instinctively squirm away from him which makes him chuckle in return. “Relax. Not gonna hurt ya.” He says, his hand casually brushing against your arm which makes you squirm even more. “Just coffee? Or with some fancy flavor? Maybe you can give me some recommendation. First time coming to this part of town. This a good café?” being bombarded with questions makes your head spin for a moment. Which one should you reply to first? Is he being serious? You doubt it but like hell will you call him out on his bullshit!
“It’s a good place.” You mumble, lifting your hand up to your face and first scratching your neck out of discomfort and then you instinctively go over to nibbling at your fingers before straight out biting your nails. It’s a bad habit of yours which your mom has scolded you for time and time again but you can’t seem to stop it. Every time you look at your nails you are reminded of your inability to cope with stressful situations in a more healthy manner, which makes you more anxious in return.
Dabi huffs amused and leans in closer to you, his arm which is resting against your chair pulls you casually against him as well. You stiffen and a cold shudder runs down your spine. You don’t like it. The close proximity to this stranger makes you want to vomit but you hold it back. Why can’t he just leave?
To make things worse does his arm snake around you even more and he grabs your hand from your lips, his long, slender fingers holding yours in an almost iron grip. “Whoa, your nails look awful.” The taunting tone in his voice has you sinking into your chair, trying to pull your hand away from him. Shame and embarrassment flow through every vein of your body. It’s bad enough your mom keeps nagging you about it but now a stranger as well? He shows mercy though as his warm hand slowly loosens its grip around your soft fingers until your hand slips out of his.
Dabi leans back with a satisfied grin on his face. You want to retort something, you want to tell him that his whole appearance looks awful but even though he makes you uncomfortable, even though he keeps taunting and harassing you; you can’t bring yourself to criticize his looks when it’s obvious that the charred skin comes from a fire or something like that and you know the moment you open your mouth to mock him, you’d regret it.
“Why are you out here all by yourself anyway? Waitin’ for your friends? Maybe your boyfriend?” His voice drops an octave when insinuating a potential boyfriend. You know he can’t possibly think you have a boyfriend so you conclude that he is trying to find your weak spots (which you have plenty of) and it drives you crazy. Why does he keep taunting you? Why does he keep making fun of you? Is this some kind of sick game?
You shuffle uncomfortably in your seat, unsure how to answer his questions. Be honest? Or lie? Or just ignore it? You opt to go with option number one. You’re not a good liar and you have a feeling that he will keep pestering you.
“Here by myself.” You reply. Dabi leans back in his seat and examines your form for a moment, his turquoise eyes reflecting the sun from above, making them even more piercing. “Is that so.” He simply responds. You can see his brain working hard behind those eyes and you kind of wished you could hear his thoughts but there is nothing but silence.
Dabi retrieves his arm from your chair. You let out a sigh of relief in return, glad the uncomfortable human contact stopped. Now he just needs to-
“Can I try it?” he points at your drink but instead of waiting for your reply he simply grabs it and takes a big sip.
Out of the corners of his eyes he sees you opening and closing you mouth like a fish but no sound comes out. He knows you want to tell him to stop; to stop drinking your coffee, to stop intruding your personal space to just stop bothering you. But you don’t. You press you lips together tightly and avert your eyes, frustration mirroring in your surprisingly pretty eyes.
“Too much milk and sugar. Shoulda ordered it black.” He comments but keeps drinking your coffee until he empties it until the last drop and places it on the table in front of you again. You are simply flabbergasted by his behavior but instead if voicing your irritation you just shift in your seat once again, no sound coming from you.
A crooked grin appears on his lips at your reaction. “Was nice meeting you but I gotta go. See ya around.” He places his hands on his thighs before getting up, his eyes never leaving your flustered from. You don’t reply. You don’t even acknowledge him leaving. Your eyes just stare at the empty cup in front of you while his heavy footsteps slowly walk away.
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Dabi doesn’t look back either but he’s feeling something exciting tingling in his stomach. He’s met a lot of people being uncomfortable around him but you’re on a whole ‘nother level. You’re not just awkward around him but around everyone. The way you squirmed in your seat when he sat down, let alone when he had his arm around you; priceless! He is not a power hungry man but he can’t deny the feeling of superiority he had around you and how willing you seemed to just accept your fate, even though you were visibly frustrated with him. You could be a fun pastime while the League of Villains is still looking for new recruits. He would just let the others do the scouting. After all, he would only burn possible allies to dust anyways.
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You are an utter mess when you leave the café and at first you just walk aimlessly around, trying to gather your thoughts. As much as you’d like to deny it but this interaction has you scared. Why? You don’t know but just the way he behaved with this whole demeanor…it was too much for you. You’ve never met anyone with this much confidence or rather this much audacity like him. A quick thought passes through your mind that he might’ve been on drugs? But there were no indications for that and he didn’t really strike you as a junkie.
You stop at a corner and take a deep breath. It’s over, you will never see him again. This was a once and a lifetime interaction and it just reaffirms your conviction to leave the house as little as possible. You take a quick look at your phone for the time and note that it’s time to go back home. Enough time spent outside. You need to go back to the comfort of your own room.
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It’s really just coincidence that he sees you again while you cross the street but it plays into his hands. He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself a stalker just because he starts following you, his hands buried inside his pockets and heavy boots making a dull thud against the concrete floor. The word “stalker” describes losers who can’t get the girl but he knows he could get you. He would much rather consider himself a predator who stalks his prey until he's cornered it, its wide fearful eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to strike. And you just happen to fit the description of the perfect prey.
You curse yourself for not taking the car but for some odd reason you thought walking all the way to town was a good idea to clear your head and also give your body some exercise on the way. And the way here was fine. The way back is the problem. When making the decision to walk you didn’t consider the fact that you might not want to walk all the way back as well. Your feet are tired and from all the exercise this day. For a moment you contemplate calling an Uber but you decide against it. As much as you don’t want to continue walking you still need to sort your thoughts and being in a car with yet another stranger won’t help you in the slightest.
You leave the city and the spaces between houses grow bigger and bigger with property lines stretching far back behind the houses yet big trees obstruct the view on the properties. Said trees also line up on either side of the street, their green crowns offering shade for the occasional pedestrian. But right now, the sun is about to set and a cool breeze hits your face and makes you burry your hands deeper into your sweatshirt pocket and pull up your shoulders. With fast footsteps you are getting closer and closer to your home; you know the way by heart ever since you were a little child walking to elementary school with your friends and could probably also walk the way with your eyes closed.
You think back to this strange man from the café; you simply can’t get those calculating turquoise eyes out of your mind. They were mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. They burnt their way right into your mind and now keep following you with every step you take. You suddenly feel uneasy and without thinking turn your head to look behind you. I’m just too paranoid. I’m just not used to being outside. You keep telling yourself to calm down and that your mind is playing games with you but there is this nagging feeling that you are being watched.
Another cold breeze comes from behind; it feels colder than the previous one and more forceful. Your short hair tickles your ear as if it is trying to tell you something. You turn your head around once again, this time looking harder if you can see anyone. Some leaves dance across the street carried by the wind which seems to be picking up. There is light coming from a house across the street and an older looking man is leaning against the counter across the window, a bottle of beer in hand and absentmindedly looking out the window.
You cautiously walk a few steps, your eyes scanning the area one more time before you look ahead and keep walking. You pick up your pace, the uneasiness from before slowly but surely turning into straight paranoia as you constantly feel a pair of turquoise eyes watching you from behind. But there is nothing. You shake your head but the image has burnt itself into your brain and you can’t seem to shake it off, to get rid of it.
You spin around when you hear a rustling behind you, eyes wide open with panic, trying to find the source of the sudden noise. Your body is tense and your heart is racing. Another rustling. You take a step back, pulling your backpack in front of you for a false sense of security. But yet again, you see nothing. You need to get back home. ASAP.
Even if you look insane, you start running with your backpack pressed against your chest. Your lungs soon start burning from the lack of oxygen and the lack of prior exercise. You take a mental note to start jogging one day. Just for cases like this where you feel unsafe and need to get out of a situation.
You try to push yourself to run further but your body is not playing along and you need to stop. You heart is pounding in your chest and you are sure whoever is following you can hear it as well. You press your hands into your sides, letting your backpack drop to the ground in order to alleviate the pain.
Once you’ve caught your breath you pick up the backpack again while your head looks around. Nothing there. Due to the adrenaline rushing through your body your senses seem to pick up as well because you are certain you hear heavy footsteps somewhere in the distance behind you. The same sound this man’s footsteps made when he left. Slow but heavy, each step promising misery if you stand in his way.
You start walking purposefully (your lungs are still burning) and can finally see the unremarkable house on the left side of the street with the black mail box (your suggestion when you were younger). Relief replaces the adrenaline when you turn into the driveway, cross the lawn and hurry up the stairs to your front door. Your hand grabs the doorknob and turns it, the warm and familiar smell of home greeting you from the inside.
You take a step forward, your right foot crossing the threshold when your body freezes in place, a cold shiver creeping down your body and every single hair on your body seems to be standing straight as if you were being electrocuted.
Ever so slowly an almost hot hand is grabbing you by the neck. It’s featherily light, like a hot summer breeze but it’s pushing you down, intending to force you to give in and fall. Those turquoise eyes are now boring themselves into the back of your skull and it takes every bit of willpower you have to cross the threshold completely and close the door behind you. Instantly, the hand leaves your neck and you are met with your mom sticking out her head from the kitchen, a tired smile on her lips.
“Welcome back, honey. Hope you had a nice day.”
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Dabi is delighted, to say the least. He is leaning against a tree, his eyes still glued to the closed door of your house. Through a window close to the door he can see you hurry up the stairs where he presumes your room is located.
Seeing you so distraught when you thought someone was following you gave him chills of excitement. So scared, so….breakable. Sure, he was following you but you didn’t know that so your paranoia was even more enticing.
His phone vibrates in his pocket. A quick look at the display has him click his tongue and he shoves the device back into his pocket. Shigaraki could wait. He has found a plaything he couldn’t possibly let out of his sight. Not after all the entertainment you’ve already provided.
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To be honest, he thought it would be more fun watching you. It didn’t take long for him to figure out where your room was located and as luck would have it, it is right next to an enormous tree. While scouting the area at night he found the perfect branch to sit on. He is still covered by the leaves but has a good look inside.
You mostly play video games or read books, sometimes texting with what he assumes are your friends but other than that, nothing interesting. To put it simple: you are a hermit. This would explain your behavior at the café the other week. Secretly, he hoped you’d do something more…forbidden. But apart from being withdrawn from society you are also quite innocent. At least for now.
The first day he thought you were like Shigaraki but he disregards this thought just as fast. Shigaraki has been bothering him for the past couple of days; he keeps complaining over the lack of new recruits but at the same time doesn’t do anything himself, he pulls everybody down with his constant mood swings (not that Dabi is all sunshine himself but he would say that he enjoys life just a little bit more than this hand freak), and he is over all a pain in the ass. You, on the other hand, don’t piss him off. Your timidity is actually kind of cute.
Dabi listens up when he hears your mom talk to you. Your window is open and a gentle breeze rustles through the leaves.
“I met Tara and her boyfriend today while I was shopping and had a lovely chat with them. Her boyfriend seems to be so courteous!” your mother gushes and he can hear your eyes roll at this comment.
“She told me that she is going to a birthday party tonight and she told me that you were also invited. Why are you not going?”
You give your mom the side eye, then look back at the book you’re reading while sitting on your bed.
“I don’t really feel like going. There are so many people I don’t know and I feel like I wouldn’t be any fun to be around.” You truthfully say. “I just don’t wanna ruin everybody’s fun…” you add in a lower tone. Your mom steps closer and stems her hands into her hips like mothers do.
“Well, have you tried having fun? You don’t need to stay there forever but it’d be good for you to at least socialize now and then. You can’t stay in your room forever, you can’t live here forever and you shouldn’t be alone forever! Maybe this would be a good opportunity to find a partner?” Your face turns hot; hot because of embarrassment, shame, sadness, and anger.
“Please stop bringing this topic up again.” You quietly ask but your mom is not having it. She never does.
“I’m just saying; all your friends from school are in relationships. I even heard that Carly is already engaged!”
“I know….”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve loved to congratulate her! I’ve known her since she was a child!”
“Didn’t think it was important…”
“And when will you introduce us to a young man? When will you give us grandkids? Please, go outside and do something. Go on dates and live your life.”
You are so tired of her speech. You’ve heard it so many times, you already know it by heart. You press your lips together tightly and closer your eyes. Your mother’s eyes keep staring at you, waiting for a response so you press out a “I’ll try” to satisfy her. She sighs, shakes her head and walks away, closing the door behind her.
The moment you hear the click tears start rolling down your cheeks. You don’t want to cry; you’ve told yourself that you would let your mother’s reproach go in one ear and out the other without thinking too much about it but you can’t just tune out the sadness you feel every time she brings up this topic. It’s exhausting and you wish she’d just leave you alone.
Dabi honestly didn’t think you’d take it so “well”. He imagined you crying in front of your mom but you kept it well together. You wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, take a deep breath and put your book away. Instead, you grab the controller of your Play Station, turn on the TV screen and start playing a game, your back resting against the wall behind your bed.
His phone vibrates in his pocket. Dabi takes a mental note to get rid of this thing asap. On the screen it reads ‘Get over here now.’
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It takes you a whole week to leave your home again and Dabi almost misses it because of Shigaraki. He’s surprised you are not taking the car after last time but maybe you figured how stupid you must’ve looked and that it was all just in your head. Silly you.
When you reach the store you look at the small piece of paper your mom gave you. Some groceries for dinner, trash bags, soap, and whatever you could possibly need. And, you do, indeed, need something. Before you forget it (because it’s not on the shopping list) you walk to the feminine hygiene section and grab two boxes of tampons, one for you and one for your mom. You know your period will visit you within the next two days and you don’t want to leave your room just because you ran out of tampons.
You take your time with the rest of the items. The store is not too crowded so you can actually take your time and enjoy being outside. You like grocery shopping. It’s just the people you don’t like. You like looking at new snacks, exotic fruit, weird looking fish, or whatever catches your eye. So, you range from isle to isle, grabbing the items your mom put on the list when you pass them but overall feel quite carefree…
…until you have this feeling again. You feel a tingling on your neck and the small hair stands up, giving you the chills. There it is again – those eyes. Your hands grab the handle of the basket tighter and you close your eyes, taking in a couple deep breaths before you open your eyes again, telling yourself it is just some unbased paranoia.
Nevertheless, you don’t feel like browsing the aisle anymore and instead grab the remaining things left on the list and hurry to the self-check-out. It doesn’t take long until you’re out of the store and immediately rain starts pouring down on you. You let out a frustrated groan, put your shopping bags down to fumble your small umbrella out of your purse. Of course, it has to start raining right now.
With your umbrella out and open, you grab the bags and make your way across the parking lot, passing other customers who are running for the store to escape the heavy rain. But you just want to get back home. The store didn’t feel safe and right now the open street doesn’t feel safe either. I should’ve taken the goddamn car. You curse yourself but it doesn’t help.
You thought that this unnerving feeling from before might disappear once you’re back outside but it’s still there. You know someone is watching you. You look around as discreetly as possible but you can’t see anyone suspicious. Just like last time. Maybe there is a villain watching you? You’ve read about maniacs who just kill anyone and everyone for fun. What if you were prey to such a villain? How would you act? Your quirk is not for fighting, let alone fighting a villain! You want to scold yourself for your thoughts but the more you scold yourself, the more prominent the fear becomes in your mind.
You don’t feel as awkward as last time when you start running regardless; after all, it’s raining right now and people will assume that you just want to get back home to avoid getting too wet.
Your heart is pounding inside your chest due to your paranoia and the physical exercise but adrenaline keeps you going. You also need to make sure the bags don’t rip open and scatter your groceries all over the ground.
A quick look down to confirm the stability of the bags has you stop in your tracks. Something is wrong. Something is missing. Tampons. To be more precise your mom’s tampons.
“Great.” You mumble to yourself. You turn around to see if they dropped somewhere along the way but you can’t see them anywhere near. Fuck it, I’m not going back. You think to yourself and keep running, your lungs are burning and your legs are heavy but you push yourself forward.
It stops raining as fast as it started and the sun comes back out, the light reflecting on the wet street is almost blinding so you have to squint your eyes. In your head you are mentally preparing for the argument that will indefinitely ensue with your mom over the “forgotten” tampons. She would scold you for buying yourself tampons but not her and you wouldn’t know how to defend yourself. Even if you told her that you must’ve dropped them along the way she would ask you why you didn’t take the car, especially since you knew it would rain sooner or later.
You turn left and walk across the driveway towards the front door, ready to accept your mother’s “wrath” when something catches your eyes. You stop and blink, thinking you’re hallucinating but you’re not. You take a few steps forward, climb the steps and stop in front of the door, your eyes glued to the small box in front if your door.
“Tampons.” You mumble confused but feel relieved. No argument, no scolding, no accusations, no-
-no way they got here by themselves.
You feel sick to your stomach and you think you have to throw up. How did this box of tampons get here before you did? There is only one logical explanation and you don’t dare to even think it. With a pounding heart, you bend down and grab the box (it was surprisingly not wet), not quite accepting the fact that someone must’ve left them here. Someone who knows that they are yours. Someone who knows who you are. Someone who knows where you live.
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Dabi snickers as he watches you hurry inside and close the door. He wasn’t able to see your face upon the realization but your body language spoke volumes.
His turquoise eyes linger on the front door for a couple more seconds before he slowly makes his way back to the hideout. But he then and there decides that you need some more action in your life. After all, he shouldn’t be the only one to have fun. For today you are safe though.
He’d be back soon enough and have all the fun with you in the world.
Well, this is the last part of the Seduction series. I'm still not back with writing but I really wanted to finish this story because it kept bothering me. I had so many different ideas how to finish this but I liked this one best. I can warn you ahead, no happy ending.
Please enjoy!
Warning: ns.fw, 18+, sm.ut, older man x younger woman, no happy ending, swearing, p in v
Pairing: Sakazuki x female reader
Word count: 3.7k
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
It’s been a couple of months since you showed up at his house, wounded and maybe even near death. Ever since then Sakazuki knew that something needed to change but he couldn’t quite figure out what exactly. Sure, it all needed to start with you no longer coming to his house and risk his career. He was honestly amazed at your skills to blend in and conceal yourself when you came to Marineford but still, the risk was too high.
Secondly, he needed to distance himself emotionally and physically from you. Since he was the fleet admiral and basically spent all his time at Marineford you were the one coming to see him. He couldn’t describe it any differently, but he’s gotten used to you; to your presence, to your body, to your personality… and that was also something that needed to change. He was the fleet admiral, for fuck’s sake! He had no business getting comfortable around you!
The only way to get out of this dilemma was to end once and for all.
He took a deep breath from his cigar, his back leaning against the wall behind him, and turned his head to look at your sleeping form. Your back was turned towards him and his blanket only covering the lower half of your body. He noticed some angry red handprints on the side of your stomach where his hand had heated up just the tiniest bit last night.
He let the ash drop into and ashtray standing next to his futon before he sucked on the cigar once again, letting the white smoke escape from his mouth. He looked up at the clock on the wall. He still had three hours before he needed to be at work. Three hours to figure out how to proceed from now on. Though he already had a plan that has been manifesting in the back of his mind for quite some time now…
His attention was drawn back to you when you turned around with a soft sigh, inching closer to his warm body. Sakazuki twisted his face a little at your peaceful and blissfully unaware behavior. You shouldn’t feel comfortable around him. You shouldn’t feel safe around him! But here you were, sleeping soundly next to your supposed enemy.
He puffed again on his cigar, his other hand grabbing one of your locks between his fingers and absentmindedly playing with your hair.
You were woken up by a tickling feeling on your cheek and the smell of something burning. Groggily, you opened your eyes and were first met with a very big and very muscular thigh next to you. Your gaze followed the leg, the curve of an equally muscular ass, and up the torso until you were met with a familiar pair of harsh eyes that were studying you as well.
“Morning.” You mumbled after a while, receiving no response from the fleet admiral. Instead, he lifted his cigar up to his lips to puff on the toxic stick. He also let go of your hair and instead casually placed it on his stomach.
You sighed and sat up but winced at various body parts that were more than sore from last night. Next to you, you heard an amused huff at your reaction and you shot him a glare from over your shoulder.
“You should be glad you’re a devil fruit user. Otherwise, I’d fuck you up just the same.” You mumbled under your breath and started inspecting your body for any major bruises.
“I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t change a thing, Y/n.” he mocked.
Another half-hearted glare in his direction only made him shake his head with the tiniest of grins and you decided to not press it any further.
Your eyes widened at the angry red imprint on your side that looked suspiciously like his hand. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t burn me to death just because you got too excited.” You reprimanded him annoyed but he ignored your comment. Instead, he placed his free hand on the other side without the handprint and let it heat up as well.
“Fuck!” you hissed and jerked away from him, climbing onto his lap to get away from his hot hand. “Are you crazy?!” You turned around to look at him, straddling his lap with your legs and an angry look on your face. Sakazuki tilted his head to the side, his hand finding your side once again but he refrained from heating it up again.
“Maybe that was a hint for you to leave.” Pissed, you wanted to get up and really just leave as he had “suggested” but you felt the weight of his hand holding you down on his lap, commanding you to stay where you were. So, you didn’t move.
He lifted his cigar back up to his lips but before he put it between his lips you reached out and grabbed his wrist. Confused, he looked at you. Your hand slowly let go and instead took the cigar between your fingers and took it out of his hand. Sakazuki let you and watched as you instead put it between your own lips and puffed on it. The taste was not really pleasant and you twisted your mouth in slight disgust.
“How can you willingly smoke this?” you ask. Sakazuki didn’t reply and reached for the cigar again but you pulled your hand away. With a challenging look you moved the cigar towards his bare chest, stopping only inches from his skin. The fleet admiral didn’t stop you but his expression hardened.
“I want you to think hard about your next move.”
“Wouldn’t it only be fair if I got to burn you as well?” you replied, the burning end of the cigar still hovering over his chest.
“Life isn’t fair.”
You swallowed, contemplating on the possible outcomes. You really wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine but there was still his hand on your hip, dangerously warm.
You sighed and removed the cigar from his chest and stubbed the cigar out in the ashtray.
Sakazuki hummed contently and put his other hand on your hip as well, caressing your warm skin with his calloused palms. You looked up at him and put your hands on his chest, slightly moving them up and down before your placed them on his shoulders.
You lifted your body up and pressed it against his, your breasts being squished between your two bodies. Your head leaned forward and you started to follow his chest tattoo with your lips. Sakazuki’s hands slightly traced your back and butt, squeezing it now and then.
You panted against his skin, pressing your body closer against his. Your mouth moved up his chest, over his collarbone and to his strong neck. You breathed in his musk. Paired with his gentle massaging your butt your felt how your core got wet and your body heated.
You whimpered against his skin when his hands started massaging the back of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh and inching closer to your hot core.
Your kisses on his neck go more heated in return and you started letting your teeth graze over the sensitive skin on his neck and your heard him take in a sharp breath as a response.
You stretched your body a little bit more to reach his ear, your warm breath ghosting over the shell of it. Your hands moved over his chest, his stomach and grazed against his stiff member. “You like that?” you whisper into his ear. He could hear your grin in your voice.
“Don’t get too cocky.” He growled and gave you a sharp slap on your butt.
You gasped in surprise. Your body started to rub against his, your hard nipples appreciating the friction. Sakazuki grabbed both your ass cheeks and spread them apart, then resumed to kneading them, this time stronger.
His beard scraped against your face as you started kissing his jawline. You felt his jaw tense the closer you got to his mouth and also his hands stopped caressing your ass. Uncertain, you stopped and looked up at him, his face extremely close. Your body longed for him and you had the urge to feel his lips on yours. And why would it be wrong? You’ve had sex plenty of times before so what was one kiss? But back in your mind you knew that a kiss could be much more intimate than simple sex. It’s been an unspoken rule between the two of you that there was no kissing involved. Kissing was something reserved for lovers and your were….fuck buddies. But still…
Your lips moved closer to his, feeling his breath against your skin. You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of permission.
“Don’t.” he mumbled, his lips almost brushing against yours. The smell of the cigar on his breath is fogging your mind and his voice is somewhere in the distance.
He should push you away. He is the older one and he has a responsibility not to behave like a horny teenager. You shouldn’t kiss him. You shouldn’t want to kiss him. But here you were, mere inches away from his own lips, your eyes longing but also unsure. He can see the internal fight you’re currently having with yourself and he hopes the reasonable voice in your mind will win – because he knows he won’t stop you.
“Why not?” you hear yourself ask, your lips inching closer to his until they brush against each other. Your lips are parted and you’re waiting for his response. But he doesn’t speak.
This is the sign for your to throw all remaining doubts over board.
You place your lips against his; they’re firm and warm yet inviting and surprisingly gentle. Your heart starts hammering in your chest and there are a million butterflies going rampant in your stomach.
You are hesitant when you start moving your lips against his, thrown off guard when you notice that Sakazuki is not reciprocating the kiss. Your heart sinks into your stomach; what’s going on? Doesn’t he want this?
You open your eyes and look right into his harsh eyes which are staring right back at you. Oh no! Your body runs. Is this bad? This must be bad!
You want to retreat from his lips, the horror plastered all over your face. You know you messed up. You know you should’ve listened to the small voice in your head! He told you not to! He will be mad at you! He will yell at you! He will-
His firm lips capture yours in an intense kiss that takes your breath away. His hands press you against his body, his nails digging into your skin, while his lips move against yours.
You are completely thrown off guard by his sudden action and are stunned.
You hear yourself whimper when his gently nibbles on your bottom lip and you start moving your lips in tandem to his.
His lips move precise and purposefully against yours; there is no unnecessary movement, no sloppy tongue. You try to get your tongue between his lips but he won’t let you. But that’s fine. Your body is on fire and you let him feel how horny you are by grabbing his wrist and leading his hand between your legs where your dripping pussy desperately waits for his touch.
His fingers brush against your wet core and he growls against your mouth excited. His thick fingers rub against your folds before he inserts two. Your core clenches around his digits and you moan pleased, moving your hips against his fingers.
Sakazuki places his lips against your neck close to your ear.
“Fucking slut.” He growls and inserts a third finger, spreading you to his liking. You moan again, your fingers finding support on his shoulders and your nails dig into his skin und his skin breaks and a little bit of blood starts running down his chest.
“Shit!” you hiss, felling how your orgasm is rapidly approaching. You want to push him away, trying to remove his hand from between your legs to prolong the nearing climax but Sakazuki won’t let you. The fleet admiral grabs both your wrists with his free hand and pulls them above your head while his other hand pistoles in and out of your dripping pussy, wet sounds mixing in with your unhinged moans.
“Fuck!” you curse, throwing your head back and pressing your eyes shut. Your mouth hangs open as you desperately gasp for air, face red and sweaty, a few strands of hair clinging to your skin.
“C-cumming!” you moan, biting your lip in anticipation of your orgasm.
Sakazuki leans forward, his teeth nibbling at your jaw.
“As if I’d let you cum.” His voice is dangerously sadistic and your brain processes his words not fast enough. Otherwise, you could’ve prepared for his fingers retreating from your pussy, leaving you hanging and frustrated.
Your eyes snap open and your head shoots forward. Angrily but also desperately you glare at him.
“Don’t stop!” you pant, your arms wriggling in his iron grip. Sakazuki lifts his free hand that is covered in your juice and holds it in front of your lips. “Suck.” He orders and you open your mouth willingly. You taste yourself on your tongue as it swirls around his digits, licking up every last drop of your slick.
With an audible plop he retreats his fingers from your mouth before wiping them dry on your breasts.
“Please….!” You look at him desperately, wiggling your ass a little to maybe encourage him. Sakazuki leans forward and kisses your lips hard and longing, even biting at your lips again until he suddenly turns and brings you underneath him, his hand still holding your wrists but now pressing them into the futon below you.
“Please what?” he asks, his eyes boring into your own, making you feel small and vulnerable underneath his big man.
“Fuck me.” You press out, adrenaline rushing through your veins. His grip around your wrists tightens and a displeased look is on his face.
“Please, fuck me, Sakazuki sama.” You breathe out, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. The fleet admiral smirks at you before letting go of your wrists and grabbing your hips tightly, lifting them up until your body is aligned with his dick. You look up at him, your position kind of awkward because of the angle you’re lying on the futon.
Sakazuki looks at you for a moment, then he presses the tip of his dick into your dripping core and then pressing further and further, stretching you almost uncomfortably until he is completely buried inside you. A long and guttural moan is pressed out of your lungs and you grab the pillow behind you for support.
He thinks about giving you time to adjust but then decides against it, coming to the conclusion that he’s already spoiled you enough. He starts with slow but intense thrusts, letting you feel every inch of his hard cock; and you love it. Your eyes are pressed shut, enjoying what he is doing to you. His fingers are gripping your hips hard, pulling you closer with each thrust.
Your legs are stretched wide apart to fit him in between them and you are generally unable to move, let alone move away from him if you wanted.
Sakazuki leans forward, pressing your lower body closer to you upper to get a better angle. He picks up his pace, his hand moving from your hip to your tits and squeezing them in the process. Another moan leaves your mouth and you arch your body against his touch, trying to move against his thrusts but it’s just not possible so you let him manhandle you.
His hand moves from your tits to your throat and he closes it tightly around your neck, squeezing your windpipe shut. You try to gasp for air but to no avail, your hands instinctively claw at his larger on to loosen his grip but he is unforgiving.
Not long after does the lack of oxygen go to your head and you feel high. His dick inside of you feels more intense and Sakazuki seems to notice it as well since he slows down and lets you once again feel every inch of his hard dick which keeps rubbing against your walls.
You open your eyes to look up at him, his lips slightly parted but otherwise having himself under control. Your lips form the word ‘air’ and you hope that he grants you the much-needed breath of oxygen. Sakazuki waits a little longer until panic starts to settle in, then he loosens his grip and you take in a long and deep breath of air but let it out right away through another loud moan he draws from you when he changes angles again in his dick presses against your special spot.
“Shit!” he hisses when you tighten around him and his grip around your throat tightens reflexively again. You watch him close his eyes for a moment while he starts pounding into you before he opens them again to look at you.
You watch your breasts move in tandem to his thrusts and how his massive dick is forced in and out of your cunt over and over again.
Soon, this familiar tingling inside of you makes itself known again and you know that you’re close.
Your legs twitch at the feeling that becomes more and more intense with watch thrusts, your body tenses and relaxes to cope with how quickly your orgasm is approaching. Sakazuki notices it as well. For a moment he considers denying you this one as well but he does not have unlimited time and he knows you need to leave soon.
“You wanna cum?” he asks, stopping his thrusts for a moment, his dick still buried deep inside of you. Your walls are clenching around him, trying to force him to move but he doesn’t budge. His hand lets go of your throat and instead he places it right next to your head on the futon.
Your eyes are red and watery due to the lack of oxygen but you know exactly what you want.
“Please let me cum, Sakazuki sama.” You whisper, biting your lip seductively. The fleet admiral presses his lips into a thin line and his hand clenches into a fist when he starts ramming himself into you, pressing you even further into the mattress while he fucks you into oblivion.
You almost scream at this onslaught of his member and your orgasm hits you hard. Your whole body tenses, your toes curl, and your back arches from the futon. You throw your head back and let out one last long and loud moan while you cum hard around the older man.
Sakazuki grunts in response, feeling how your pussy is trying to milk him and he is tempted to just let you squeeze him dry but he can’t do that.
The small voice in his head forces him to pull out at the last moment before he unloads on your stomach and your tits, his cum covering you almost completely.
He keeps his eyes closed for a moment to compose himself again, then he looks down at your wrecked form.
“Fucking brat.”
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He wa already fully dressed and ready to go when you came out of the bathroom after getting rid of all the evidence of your morning session.
He threw your clothes right at you, urging you to hurry since he had to go. You silently got dressed without complaint and then stood before him.
“You’re not getting a goodbye kiss.” Sakazuki simply said and you huffed. “Why would I want that?” you retorted but internally not being completely against it.
“Good. Just so we’re clear. This will never happen again.” He said and you rolled your eyes. You already knew this spiel and he always caved when you came back.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” You turned around and walked towards the window. For a moment, you contemplated turning around one last time but decided against it. Instead, you just lifted your hand and gave a half-hearted wave goodbye. Then, you were gone.
Sakazuki watched you disappear, not moving for a moment as if he was frozen in place. Then, he reaches for the den den-den-mushi on the cupboard.
“Borsalino, there might be a rouge pirate at Marineford.”
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The marine caught you by surprise and you were completely unprepared. You tried to get away from them but there were simply too many and you had to surrender. Now, you were led towards the big navy headquarter with its prison cells underneath the building, ready to be shipped off to Impeldown.
First, you had no idea why and how they found you but realization hit pretty quickly when you heard admiral Kizaru speak into his den-den-mushi.
“You were right, Sakazuki. There was a rouge pirate running about Marineford.”
Of course, you thought to yourself with a bitter smile on your lips. Would’ve been too good to be true.
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“Do I wanna know why you knew there was a pirate running around HQ like this?” Borsalino sat on Sakazuki’s sofa in his office while the fleet admiral stood at the door, looking at the endless ocean.
“You don’t need to know, Borsalino.” Sakazuki simply replied and with that the conversation was over for him.
He felt weirdly dissatisfied but he dismissed it with the fact that he would simply miss having sex with you. This whole situation between you two was purely physical, nothing more. The kiss this morning was simply a slip-up and he just got carried away. It would never happen again. He would never see you ever again. Was it the right thing to have you locked up for the rest of your life?
Yes, absolutely. There was nothing wrong about locking up a criminal. He had his fun but if he kept this going this whole situation would simply cloud his mind and he couldn’t let that happen.
Was it selfish to lock you up for the rest of your life?
Probably. But Sakazuki has never been known for being particularly selfless.
He was the fleet admiral, after all. He didn’t get this job by being considerate but by being ruthless. And he would not change just for some good pussy.
Thank you for reading and staying with me all these years! I hope you enjoyed this whole story and I'm sorry not really for the not so happy ending. It just seemed right and fit Akainu's personality. He just seems like the type of guy who puts the marines over everything else.
Soooooo....I'm not back but I really wanted to write this so yeah....hope you like it.
Reader is a new recruit in the marines and is actually doing pretty well....if it wasn't for those stupid knots.
Warnings: modern day AU, military AU, dub-c, power dynamics, older man x younger woman, reader is fresh out of high school but over 18, swearing, slightly ns.fw
Pairing: Admiral Sakazuki x female recruit reader
Word count: 4.4k
When you pictured yourself in the future you always thought you’d go to college, get a job, settle down, have some kids, and live the rest of your life together with your husband on some lone range in the middle of nowhere, your grandkids running around while your kids prepare the Sunday dinner in your kitchen while you hold hands with your husband and reflect on what a blessed life you’ve had.
Or maybe you would’ve pursued your carrier, made a fortune by inventing something crazy useful or made the right investment at the right time and by the age of 35 you would’ve been so rich that you never had to lift a finger for the rest of your life. You could’ve traveled abroad, see the world and see where the wind carries you.
The harsh reality hits you when your commanding officer screams into your face, his spit landing in your open mouth by default since you are breathing heavily. Your muscles are burning and you’re not sure anymore if it’s because of the thousands of sit ups you’ve been forced to do or because you ate something funny (the food is really not the best and you’re not sure how long some of the cans have been hidden in the cabinets, forgotten until the canteen lady unsuspectingly found it and decided it was still edible).
“MOVE. YOUR. ASS! We’re not in sissy camp, recruit!” he yells, more spit landing on your face. Sweat is covering your entire body, your brown shirt and pants soaking wet, coloring it a shade darker than it actually is. You grunt and follow is order, trying to move faster but everything is simply burning. Your officer luckily moves on to the person next to you to scream at him as well.
If you remember correctly his name is Cody. You saw him briefly at the briefing in week one but haven’t really noticed him ever since. Apparently, he is also still trying to become a marine, taking the 8 week training camp as seriously as you are.
The whistle blows and everyone is collapsing on the hard ground, loud panting and groaning can be heard over the entire training ground. “Two-minute break! Then we’ll go over to push-ups!” your commanding officer yelled. Internally your groan in frustration but instead shield your eyes from the burning sun above you to get some shade. Once again, you’re contemplating why you chose this path in life and not the ones you’ve dreamt of when you were younger.
It's not that you are stupid. Rather the opposite. You studied hard to get into university after high school, had a high GPA and all the ambitions to succeed. The only thing you didn’t have was money or a scholarship. Your parents couldn’t afford to send you to college and for some reason you also couldn’t land any scholarships. Contemplating if you should apply to universities anyways or not your uncle mentioned that you could join the military for a couple of years and they would then pay for your studies. So, that’s what you decided to do. Taking online classes is the best possible option but they won’t start before September and you had to survive the first 8 weeks of this hell hole first.
You roll over onto your stomach and reach for the bottle of water to take a big sip before you have to do a shit ton of sit-ups.
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“Listen up! Tomorrow we will have a high-ranking visitor at our compound. Your orders are to behave at your best, to not complain and to fulfill every task given to you! Not that it’s any different from any other day but I won’t have you lot embarrass us in front of admiral Sakazuki!” a nervous murmur can be heard amongst the recruits, earning everyone a “Shut the fuck up!”.
“He and vice admiral Garp will stay until the end of week 4 when you will take your second academic test. I don’t need to remind you to study for this test since you will not be able to continue your carrier in the navy unless you pass all tests!” he reminds you all.
Thinking back you noticed some faces didn’t return after the first test but you didn’t really pay it any mind. You scored in the top 10% and are more than content with it. You are also not too concerned about the second test since the questions asked are not too hard anyways.
“That is all. Dismissed!” the officer yells and immediately stalks off. You and the rest of the new recruits slowly make your way over to the shacks where you share everything with one another. No privacy, only the bathrooms and showers are separated by sex which you are very grateful for.
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After taking a shower you feel much better; still sore but much better. “Dinner” is served exactly at 1830 (630 pm) and if you’re later you won’t get anything to eat and have to wait until the next morning. One of your new friends here made this experience the very first day because he was late. You didn’t really feel bad for him since they said not even 6 hours prior when breakfast, lunch and dinner will be served so it was really only his fault. You have no idea why you engaged in conversation with him since he did nothing but complain that night but you somehow became friends and have sticked together since then.
“What do you think about admiral Sakazuki coming tomorrow, Y/n?” you look up from your food at Rosinante and shrug. “It’s kinda surprising for him to come here. Maybe he has some business to attend to near the base or even on here….” You muse and take a bite of your meat (?) which tastes just like a show. Rosinante hums and watches your face contort in slight disgust at the taste and texture of the food. “You might be right. Still, I haven’t heard anything good from him.” His voice is hushed as to not attract too much attention.
“Ever since he’s become an admiral some missions abroad have been somewhat….” He pauses, trying to think of the appropriate word.
“Questionable?” you finish and he nods in agreement. “Yes, questionable.” He agrees and also takes a bite before spitting it back out. “Disgusting.” He huffs and you smile at him.
“I heard he’s planned some reform for the marines.” Surprised, you turn around to look at none other than Koby who is sitting right behind you. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping.” He apologizes with a small smile but you wave it off. “No worries.” You assure him, also inviting him to continue.
“I’ve heard some of the officers talk about him visiting another training ground and he personally threw out some of the new recruits even though they passed the tests. They don’t know why but ever since he’s been promoted the atmosphere within the navy has changed.” He informs you. Both you and Rosinante gulp at the story. Sure, there is always the possibility that you might fail a test but being thrown out even after you passed?
“This almost seems personal…” you murmur and the others nod in agreement.
“Guess that’s why commander prick seemed a little nervous earlier today.” Rosinante muses. You stay silent, following your own train of thought regarding this revelation.
You need to pass all the tests and become a marine. This is one of the only ways to pursue your academic carrier without falling into a crushing amount of debt. This visit might be a bigger problem than initially expected.
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You are used being yelled at. You are used being spit at. You are also (unfortunately) being used to indecent touches by some of your male comrades. All of this you can look past; you know how to deal with it, are not getting intimidated or flustered by any of it. But this is different.
You have met a lot of different people in your life; some demand more, some demand less authority when entering a room but you have never, ever in your life met anyone who had such a dangerous and commanding aura like the admiral. The moment he stepped onto the training compound your blood ran cold. Chills covered your skin and your stomach dropped. Since now you have never seen anyone as dangerous or a threat. Call it privileged but despite your poor family you were raised pretty well in a surprisingly good neighborhood and there were not a lot of potentially dangerous people in your area.
You want to look down when his eyes muster the recruits but you know you are not allowed to. This is an entirely new situation and, quite frankly, you have no idea how to behave. And you don’t like it.
Out of the corners of your eyes you can see that your fellow recruits are feeling the same and you feel some kind of relief. At least you’re not the only one.
“When I look at you, I feel disappointed.” His voice is gravely and sends another shiver down your spine. It also makes you listen up even more. This is not a good start for a speech.
“I visited other bases before and I came to the conclusion that the navy will have to be more selective with new recruits. It should be a privilege to serve in the navy and people should act accordingly. That is why I will personally conduct interviews tomorrow with each and every one of you. If you’re not convincing, you can go back home. That’s all. Dismissed!”
There is a long stretch of silence where nobody dares to move, even long after he is out of view. Even the officers are speechless, but not for too long.
“You heard him! So, you better prepare tonight! We will also be judging you on your progress today so you better get your act together!”
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You don’t have problems with neither the physical training nor with the academic part but something you certainly are not skilled at is knot-tying. It seems so easy – everybody else can do it – but you can’t to get your head around the right way to tie this stupid knot. You’re constantly yelled by your officers and it also doesn’t help that the admiral and the vice admiral (who you’ve seen for the first time today at knot-tying practice) are watching you with sharp eyes. Or at least the admiral is, vice-admiral Garp is idly chatting with some of the lower ranking marines.
A frustrated groan leaves your mouth when this stupid rope keeps loosening up every time you’re about to tighten it. “Fucking stupid shitty rope….!” You mumble under your breath and are about to start over again when a large shadow is covering the light coming from the lamp above. You look up, ready to be yelled at again when your body turns to stone.
You’re looking at the admiral himself, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a displeased look on his face. Everyone around you is silent, shooting stealthy looks in your direction. “I suggest looking for a different carrier when you’re not even capable of tying a simple knot, recruit.” He says and stretches out one hand expectantly. You have to forces your body to move and to give him the rope, your hand briefly brushing against his bigger one.
You can only watch his massive hands deftly tie the knot you’ve been struggling with, somewhat amazed at how easy it is. With a loud thud he puts the knot down in front of you on the table, an arrogant look in his eyes. “I’ll keep this in mind for the interview tomorrow, recruit.” His words are nothing short of a threat and you feel dizzy. That you’re entire future depends on this asshole and a fucking knot is ridiculous! You look down at the perfectly tied knot and ignore the admiral disappearing.
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You are usually not nervous before interviews but today is different. You feel like throwing up and your hands are shaking. Not only will you be stepping in front of Sakazuki very soon but he will also decide on your future. Some of your comrades have already come back but so far none of them seems to have been kicked out. Nevertheless, they looked terrified.
Another thing that bothers you is that you can’t anticipate how long the interview will be. Some of the others came out after 10 minutes, others stayed inside for 20-30 minutes. No way the admiral will be able to interview each and every one of you in a single day.
The door opens and Koby comes out, his face pale as a ghost. You look at him concerned but he simply sighs in slight relief. “Good luck”, he whispers as he slowly walks away.
“Y/n!” you’re being called into the room. As soon as you enter, the door is being shut behind you and you’re alone with admiral Sakazuki sitting on the opposite side of the room at a big desk.
He is wearing the standard dark blue admiral uniform but no tie. All his medals are decorating the left side of his chest and you wonder what one needs to do to earn so many awards within the navy.
You stand in front of the door, whole body straight and a (hopefully) stern look on your face. Sakazuki looks up at you after opening a file – your file, supposedly.
“Sit.” He orders you and without hesitation you follow his command and sit down on the opposite side of the table, taking your hat off.
Sakazuki looks at you for a moment before looking down at your file.
“So, recruit.” He begins, not even bothering to read your name even though your file is right in front of him. “I’ve read your file. Good academic carrier so far.” He remarks but you don’t feel complimented. You know there is coming more.
“Thank you, sir.” You reply regardless.
“What made you join the marines and not go to university?” you knew this questions would come and you have thought about the right answer all night. You wanted to tell the truth but you decided against it last minute.
“I want to serve our country and give back to this great nation.” You reply instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. There is a short silence in the room before the admiral huffs.
“Serve our country….give back to the nation….stop bullshitting me.” You freeze at his words and his harsh eyes bore right into you.
“S-sir?” you dare to ask.
“I asked you why you wanted to join the navy after school and I expect an honest answer. You’re already on thin ice. One wrong step and you’re gone….” He mused, his eyes never leaving yours. The fight or flight instinct wanted to kick in but you desperately tried to suppress it. Neither would serve you good in this situation unless you wanted to lose face completely.
“I-“ you cleared your throat before starting over again. “I wanted to go to university. But it wasn’t meant to be. So I decided to join the navy. I plan on taking online classes later in my carrier but right now I am entirely focused on my training and becoming a good marine.
“A good marine should be able to tie a simple knot.” You couldn’t help but look away as your face heats up in embarrassment. You hear him move and pull something out of a drawer. When you look up you see a long rope in front of you on the table.
“How would you tie an enemy’s hands when you’ve captured them and have only this rope?” you know you learnt this the other day but by God you can’t remember!
You take the rope in your hands, looking lost but you decide to improvise. Maybe you’d be lucky…
You start to cross both ends to start tying the rope but Sakazuki interrupts you. “Try it on me.” His suggestion is much more an order than anything else. You want to protest but he has already placed both hands on top of the table in front of you.
You don’t want to tie his hands together; mostly because you are scared to touch the man in front of you. But you have no other choice. You reach out and take both his hands into yours; his palms are warm and calloused, the rough patches brushing against your own hands. You slide the rope underneath his hands and start winding the rope around them. You know this is wrong, you know there is a right way but you simply can’t remember.
The admiral watches you and lets you finish, his expression unreadable but you know you messed up once again. When you tighten the tow ends and look up at him you are met with a disappointed and annoyed look. You press your lips together and wait for his judgement. He lifts up his hands so both of you can take a good look.
“Tell me what you did wrong, recruit.” He demands. You look at your work but remain silent. Frustrated with you lack of answer Sakazuki simply flexes his arms and hands and rips the rope apart, freeing his hands in the process.
“This was a sad excuse of a knot but an even sadder excuse of an aspiring marine. You want to defend this country?” he huffs derogatorily and you shrink into yourself.
“First of all, you never tie an enemy’s hands in front of them. Always on the back.” He gets up, grabbing a second rope from the drawer and rounds the table. You slightly glare up at him. Of course, this was a set-up. He deliberately placed his hands in front of him on the table and not behind his back.
“I must’ve misunderstood the assignment, sir. I thought you simply wanted me to tie your hands.” You admit but this answer is no good.
“The order was clear, recruit. Tie my hands like I was an enemy. Would you tie an enemy’s hands like this?” you shake your head.
“This is pathetic.” He mumbles. Suddenly, his hand grabs your hair, pulls you from the chair and presses your flat on the table. You gasp surprised and instinctively try to push yourself back up but the admiral has both your hands already grabbed behind your back, holding them in an iron grip as his free hand slides around your wrists.
It doesn’t even take 10 seconds and your hands are tightly tied. You squirm underneath him, trying to get up but your tied hands combined with a single hand that is lightly pressing down between your shoulder blades is preventing you from getting away.
“This is how you subdue an enemy.” You try to look at him over your shoulder but his hand moves to your head back again and presses your face onto the surface. You gasp, your legs kicking backwards to hit him but he steps closer and presses his body against yours. To be precise, he presses his legs against the back of your thighs, preventing you from moving at all.
You struggle against your restrains but his grip only becomes harder. “Fuck!” You breathe out frustrated and give up, accepting your defeat and the likely end of your military carrier.
“Pathetic.” He comments but lets go of you, pulling you from the table and onto your feet. You feel humiliated but suppress the tears that threaten to form in your eyes. You will not let him see your defeat, not Sakazuki.
“You should just quit and save yourself from further humiliation which will come.” He says demeaning but you shake your head, “All due respect, sir, but I will not quit.” To underline your point you turn around to face him, the slight glistering of tears could vaguely be made out but either Sakazuki doesn’t see it or he ignores it.
“I can be useful and I know I will be of value. I will not quit.” You look right into his cold eyes. Sakazuki remains silent for a moment before he steps forwarder, forcing you back and to bump against the table with the back of your thigh.
“What will happen if you get captured?” he asks you, stepping another step forward and leaning forward deliberately slowly. You lean back instinctively, swallowing hard. You are not comfortable with this close proximity.
“Will you be able to keep your mouth shut and not rat out your comrades?” he leans down further, forcing you to back up even more until your back is lying on the table again.
Sakazuki places both hands next to your head, trapping you between his body and the table.
“Y-yes, sir.” You affirm his question, forcing yourself to keep the eye contact.
“Is that so? Even if they torture you?” his right hand traces down your arm until he reaches your hip. The warmth of his hand radiates through the fabric. It’s almost burning hot and makes you squirm under his touch.
“Even if they do unspeakable things to you?” he continues, his hand moving upwards, riling your shirt up in the process, exposing your soft skin to his gaze.
You let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, body slightly shaking under his touch. “Yes, sir.” You affirm once again, your heart hammering inside your chest. Sakazuki’s eyes slowly leave yours and instead travel down your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and then the exposed skin on your stomach.
You have so many different feelings racing inside your mind but the most prominent one is what is he going to do? Is this even legal?
The admiral leans down, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear, his hot breath against your neck. Your body heats up when a low groan rumbles through his body, revibrating against yours. His hand traces your naked skin up, inching closer to your breasts. Your body arches against his touch and you have the urge to wrap your legs around his waist. You know your pussy is wet from his short ministration and you want to be touched.
However, there is this small part in your head that screams at you that this is a trap. But this tiny voice keeps being pushed to the side with every touch from his big hand. You sigh and let your head fall to the side when his hand pushes underneath your sports bra and starts fondling your breast.
A thin sheen of sweat has formed over your skin and you feel the heat inside your body. How did it come to this? This was supposed to be nothing but an interview! You know this isn’t right, but fuck! – his mere presence makes you feel things that should be forbidden!
Your mind is racing, trying to form a single thought but Sakazuki won’t let you. You feel his body shift, his legs nudging your legs apart and he presses his body between you. Your eyes open wide and you can’t hold back the moan anymore as his penis presses against you, hard and hot. Your hips rut up against his, wanting more friction.
The admiral raises his body to look down at your flustered form, his right hand buried underneath your shirt.
“So pathetic. As soon as some man shows you some kind of attention you crumble like a cookie. Look at you. You’re so needy you will even risk your carrier to get that dick.” As if to emphasize his words he thrusts his hips forward against yours, forcing another gasp from your lips.
Sakazuki lets go of your breast and pulls his hand out from underneath your shirt, leaving you breathless and flustered. Your slowly turn your head to look at him, his eyes giving no indication of his erect penis between your legs.
“I am not pathetic….” You mumble. You don’t know why you said that but it was the only thing on your mind you could communicate with the marine above you.
“And if I am then you’re as pathetic as I am.” You add, bracing for what’s about to come. Sakazuki lifts an eyebrow, surprised at your reply.
“Care to explain why?” you swallow hard but know there is no going back.
“You are the one who initiated this. You are the one who felt the need to touch me. And you’re as aroused as I am.” Now it was your time to emphasize your words by pressing your hips against his. The admiral doesn’t answer right away, he simply stares at you. Then, the corner of his lips slightly lifts up, indicating a smile.
“Gotta admit, you’re braver than you look.” He steps back, giving you some room but also robbing you of that sweet pressure between your legs.
He pulls down your shirt, deliberately brushing against your breasts one last time before he pulls you up by your arm.
He steps between your legs once again and reaches around you, his muscular body pressing against yours while his hands reach around you to untie your restraints. You sheepishly breathe in his cologne, his musk reminding you once again of the wetness between your legs.
When your hands are free again, he drops the rope on your lap and returns back to his seat behind the desk.
“Come to my office tonight after dinner.” He simply says without looking up, your file occupying his attention again.
“Why?” you dare to ask. Sakazuki glances up at you, his eyebrow raised once again.
“You are brave, not stupid, aren’t you? Follow my orders and we will get along well.” He simply said and waved his hand dismissively at you to leave. You murmur a “Yes, sir” and slowly make your way over to the door.
“Oh, and one last thing, recruit. Bring that rope with you. I think I need to teach you some more knots.” Your face heats up one last time, your hand clutches around the fabric, and you hurriedly open the door to leave his office.
Hey thanks! Wouldn’t say I’m back though 😅 will try to post from time to time and still don’t really feel like writing for the requests that are still in my ask box (so sorry for all the people!!!) but maybe I’ll find the motivation to write more again.
Thanks for sticking around!! I really appreciate it and I really appreciate all the new followers I’ve gained even though I haven’t really been posting all that much! You guys are the best 🥹🥰
Do your minions know you're here? - Dragon x fem! reader
First time writing for Dragon and for some reason I really took a liking to this dilf! He's just so sexy!
Anyway, reader is a princess and has something going on with the commander of the revolutionary army, Monkey D. Dragon.
Warning: 18+, ns.fw, sm.ut, reader is a brat, blowjob, minors do not interact, older man / younger woman, unprotected sex, squirting, clothed sex
Pairings: Monkey D. Dragon x fem! princess reader
Word count: 2.8k
You watch as he stands right next to the open window, the light breeze playing with his long black hair. You shiver slightly and pull your bath robe tighter around your body, shielding you from the wind. One leg is crossed over the other and your foot bobs lightly up and down while you sit at the edge of your double king size bed.
He feels you calculating gaze on his back, hears how your thoughts are running at an inhumane speed, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. You want come off as nonchalant, as aloof, and unbothered; but he knows you better. The bobbing of your foot, you pressing your arms closer against your chest, the way you bite the inside of your cheek – you’re nervous. Rightfully so.
You raise your chin when the man turns around and your eyes meet. The deep frown on his face is only highlighted by the red tattoo adorning the left side of his face. You hesitate for a moment but then get up and slowly make your way over to where Dragon is standing. The closer you get the more he towers over you like some giant.
Dragon looks down at you skeptically, the frown only deepening as you slowly raise your hand and undo the button that’s holding his dark green cloak together.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to act on your own.” He says dangerously calm. You smile up at him, looking at him through thick lashes. “Bad habit, I guess. As a princess I usually don’t ask for permission.” You almost purr, knowing that your words will upset him. “People just tend to obey my orders.” You add, letting your hand run up and down his clothed torso.
With a displeased huff he grabs your wrist and pushes you back. It’s not harsh yet you still stumble from the force. Your bath robe slightly loosens, revealing part of your naked skin underneath. You notice how his gaze dipped down for a brief moment before Dragon looks back at your face.
Your lips spread in a small smile as you turn around and make your way over to a small bar where various bottles of alcohol are neatly stashed.
“Do your minions know you’re here?” you ask nonchalantly while grabbing two glasses from a cupboard, filling both with expensive liquid.
You don’t need to turn around to know that the commander of the revolutionary army is standing right behind you, not too pleased that you insulted his subordinates.
“If I were you I’d refrain from calling them minions. You’re in no position to talk badly about them. These people risk their lives to free the countries from tyranny.”
You spin around, holding one glass in each hand, offering him one of them.
“And you’re in no position to lecture me, Dragon. While your minions free country after country, risking their lives for the cause you turn your back on them and keep coming back to me night after night, demanding I spread my legs for you so you can fuck me like some cheap little whore.” Your tone is not angry but demeaning which makes Dragon clench his hands into tight fists. But he doesn’t argue. He knows it’s true and he wouldn’t deny something that’s just so obvious.
The commander takes one of the glasses and stares at the liquid inside. “Drink. It’s not poisoned.” You mumble as you down your own glass in one go. You watch him keep staring at the beverage before he also downs his in one go, putting the glass down with a loud thud. You place yours next to his much more silently and look back up at him.
“So, since you’ve prevented me from taking my much deserved bath, will you at least make it up to me? If not I’d like you to leave because I’m tired.” You ask him, your hands seemingly absentmindedly playing with the two ends of the string that’s holding your bath robe together.
“How can someone be as shameless as you are?” he asks in a husky tone, his eyes now shamelessly themselves wandering your body up and down. “Knowing that your monarchy will soon come to an end and yet here you are offering yourself to the man who will be responsible for your downfall.”
Dragon finally reaches out himself and unties the robe, slowly exposing your completely naked body underneath. You feel your skin tickle as his eyes roam your skin, your nipples are standing hard excitedly.
“I don’t think about the future. I live in the here and now.” You almost whisper, inching closer to the man in front of you. Dragon quickly looks back at your face. “You’re a terrible ruler.”
“And you’re a terrible father.” You retort with a smile.
Dragon huffs, a small smile forming on his thin lips.
A sigh of relief leaves your mouth where his calloused hands start roaming your body and you let your eyes fall close, enjoying the nice feeling.
Dragon can’t deny that he enjoys the view and the touch under his hand more than just a little. It doesn’t matter how tough, how bratty, how mischievous you are – once he touches you you’re nothing but pudding in his hands.
He skims the bath robe that is hanging loosely on your shoulders down. Small goosebumps are forming on your skin which he can feel underneath his palms as they glide down your arms.
You open your eyes a tiny bit to look at the older man in front of you before your hands move up and unbutton his jacket and the dress shirt underneath it, finally exposing his trained torso. You lean forward and start kissing his tanned skin with your soft lips, your tongue dipping inside his belly button form time to time.
The commander looks down at you and lets your open his belt. The metallic clicking and the silent rustling of his pants kindle a small fire inside himself which sparks excitement and lust. He closes his eyes as your lips follow the happy trail leading from his belly button south towards his semi erect member which is still trapped inside his briefs.
His hand finds your head once you reach the waistband of his underwear, slightly nipping at it with your teeth to frustrate him. Your lips follow the shape of his clothed cock, sucking at the tip through the fabric before moving down. Even though he is still clothed his penis starts radiating such an intense heat that you swallow hard. The hand at the back of your head starts urging you to finally pay attention to his member completely and stop playing around. You hook your fingers into the waistband and slowly pull his briefs down, exposing his now fully erect penis.
Dragon watches with such an intense stare that it almost burns a hole in your head, urging you to get down to business.
He doesn’t make a sound when your lips finally close around the head of his cock. Only his grip tightens for a second. He feels how your mouth takes him in deeper and deeper, sees how his dick disappears more and more inside your wet hole until his tip presses against the back of your throat. A muffled choke can be heard but he knows that you’re just getting used to his size.
His hand guides you a little bit but he lets you handle him however you like for the most part. The lewd sounds your mouth makes while you take him in deeper and deeper turns both of you on ever more. Saliva is running down your chin as you finally manage to swallow him whole. Dragon grunts at the feeling and holds you down as you want to come up again.
You try to protest, needing to take a breath of air but he doesn’t let you. You open your eyes and look up at him through tears and can make our a shitty grin. You feel his other hand close around your throat and slightly press down. As a reflex you want to take a breath but it’s simply not possible. Dragon’s hand around your throat presses down a little harder before his other hand pulls your off his cock until you can take a much needed breath.
Then again, he presses your face against his pelvis, his cock buried deep inside your throat. The commander chuckles breathlessly but repeats the action multiple times, making sure to go as slowly as possible to make you feel his cock as best as possible. After all, you should feel honored that he lets you taste his dick.
You patiently let him do as he pleases, enjoying the way he manhandles you. The hand around your throat adds some extra excitement due to the dangerous nature of the man whose dick you’re currently sucking.
When he finally frees your mouth from his cock your lips are red and swollen, saliva has dropped from your chin onto your tits and tears have made their way down your cheeks. “What a good girl.” Dragon comments at your look and lets go of you.
He helps you stand up right again before he pushes you backwards until you bump against the end of your bed. You sit down, legs spread wide open and Dragon follows suit, kneeling between your inviting legs. The man leans down and starts savagely devouring your neck and chest, leaving purple marks all over your skin. You moan as he starts sucking at your nipple, arching your back to press yourself closer against his mouth.
His hand cups your wet pussy and he presses the heel of his palm against your clit, moving it in circles. Another moan, this time louder as your hips rock against his hand. Your own hand moves down his body too and closes around his hard cock, moving your hand up and down, spreading your saliva and his pre-cum. He grunts against your chest and his teeth bite down around the delicate peak on your breast. You feel how your own juice is seeping out of your hot core and down his fingers, wetting the bed sheet underneath you.
Finally the commander enters a finger inside of your core and starts pumping in and out, creating wet sounds. Your hand around his cock pumps him in tandem with his finger until he adds a second one.
“Fuck!” you curse at the feeling, your grip around him almost too tight. He angles his fingers in a way that he pushes against this all too familiar sensitive spot. Thinking back, he was the first one to ever make you come, let alone squirt. Ever since then you never wanted to miss this feeling ever again, even if the man above you, Monkey D. Dragon, was the only one who could make you feel this way. This all comes with experience is what he had told you and oh boy does this man have experience!
“S-shit! I can’t….can’t hold it any longer!” you whine, opening your eyes to look at him. Dragon lifts his head from between your tits, his intense stare almost making you cum here and now. The grin on his lips grows wider but he slowly removes his fingers from your dripping wet pussy.
“Fuck me, now!” you pant breathlessly, face hot and your hair is sticking to your face from all the sweat.
“Is that an order, princess?” his tone is predatory and his eyes are sharp. But you don’t care. “Hell yeah, it is! Make your princess cum, goddamnit!” Dragon remains silent while he stares at you. You become a little bit anxious, knowing fully well that he does not take orders, especially from someone like you.
“Please…?” you add, more silently than your order and much more submissive. Dragon still says nothing but after what feels like an eternity he straightens up, both his hands grab your hips mercilessly, and pull you closer to him. His cock is resting against your swollen clit and he rocks forth and back, teasing your sensitive pussy with his long dick.
A needy mewl escapes your swollen lips and you try to rock against him but the grip on your hips is too right. You can’t do anything but watch and pant desperately as his thick cock keeps rubbing against your slit and your clit, spreading your wetness over his dick.
“Please!” you try again, more pleading this time and look up at him.
Dragon huffs amused but finally obliges. He grabs your legs and places them over his shoulders, lining himself up with your entrance. Without another warning, he glides inside of you before he bottoms out in you in one swift move. The stretch and the feeling knocks the air out of your lungs for a moment and you see stars.
When Dragon starts moving it’s harsh and precise. Long yet forceful movements have you rock over the bedsheets. Only his hands on your legs keep you in place. The room is soon filled with loud moans of pleasure, your mouth hangs open and your fingers grab the fabric tightly for support. The man above you is mostly silent. A few grunt here and there and the occasional grow are all you can hear over your own shameless moans.
His hips snap forward before he pulls back, only to snap forward again, pushing against your sweet spot inside of you. Your tits wiggle with each thrust and Dragon looks back between your face, your tits and your pussy which is sucking in his cock.
The coat around his shoulders soon is discarded somewhere on the floor as he pounds inside of you mercilessly. His one hand comes down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit again. You arche your back and open your eyes wide at this intense feeling.
“H-harder, Daddy!” you moan, forcing a growl out of his mouth that sounds so animalistic that your pussy clenches around him.
“Harder!” you demand, moving against him as good as you can manage. Dragon picks up the speed and forces himself inside of you over and over again, listening to your pleas and moans.
“So good! Fuck me like you mean it, daddy!”
The commander leans forwarder until your’re almost folded in half with your legs touching your breasts. The change of angle with which he now hits you lets you see stars once again. The entire bed is shaking underneath you and you are sure that the sounds of your moans can be heard throughout the whole palace but you don’t care.
You feel your orgasm approaching at a rapid speed and you wish you could prologue it a little longer but his ministration is just too good. You grab his hair with one of your hands while the other one grabs your own tit, massaging it feverishly.
“C-cumming!” you pant, eyes closed and only concentrating on the feeling inside of you. “Spoiled brat…!” he pants close to your ear, his thrusts not losing any of their force. “Only thinking about yourself.” But he doesn’t deny you your orgasm.
The explosion inside of you from the sheer force of your climax has you black out for a moment. A wave of pure and primal pleasure washes through you as you cum around him, your juice squirting out from around his cock. Your walls around him tighten profusely and you can’t do anything but cum with a silent scream and wide eyes.
Dragon watches your blissful expression as he makes you squirt around him, your juice wetting his pants around his thighs. The tightness around his dick makes his movements sloppier. He feels is own orgasm approaching and tries to pick up his speed one last time. Your cum around him makes moving easier and the slick sound is even more erotic. With one last move he pulls back from your pussy, grabs your face, strokes himself a couple more times before he cums right in your face, most of his sperm landing in your open mouth.
Dragon watches as he stains your face and your tongue with his semen and sort of mesmerized watches how you swallow every single drop of it.
You look up at him with a dumb fucked silly smile on your face as you lick your lips. “Isn’t it frustrating to always pull out last second?” you ask. Dragon simply huffs while he gets off of you. “I’m not risking you getting pregnant for some thoughtless fun.” He simply states, already closing his pants.
“Then maybe a condom would do next time.” You suggest, rolling to your side as you watch him.
Dragon looks at you, a small grin on his lips.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I still want to feel you when I make you cum.”
Hi so I've really been into vampires lately so I decided to write a vampire AU story where Shanks is a vampire and the ready a semi successful hunter with some money problems. And since vampires don't care about money how can she repay him for lending her money? Blood.
Warnings: extortion, money problems, manipulation, dub-con but no smut!, Shanks has both his arms!, blood
Pairings: Vampire! Shanks x Hunter! female reader
Word count: 4.2k
“I thought you never wanted to come back?“ His voice sounds amused and taunting but you ignore it, simply clenching your fists to swallow some snarky retort. The tall man in front of you studies your face curiously, his head slightly cocked to he side.
Your feel ashamed and disgusted about yourself; you have gone over this scenario in your head over and over again, have come up with so many different excuses you could tell him and yet you can’t utter one single of those lies in his presence. You know he would look right through you and any word that isn’t the truth would’ve been for naught anyways. So, you choose to keep your mouth shut. He knows the answer anyways.
“Come, take a seat.” He offers you, pointing to the seat in front of his desk. Hesitantly, your legs start to move, setting one foot in front of the other until they reach their goal. You sink into the soft cushion and make yourself instinctively smaller even though you had planned to look him in the eye confidently and proudly.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he offers but you shake your head. The red-haired man shrugs and pours himself a scotch, downing it in one go.
“How’s your colleague doing?” he asks innocently, studying his empty glass without looking at you. You glare at him, sending all the hate you’re feeling his way – which simply bounces off him. He doesn’t care. You’re not a threat.
“He died.” You press out, making him look up in surprise. “Oh, sad to hear that. Must’ve been hard to lose someone so close.” He muses. Your nails dig into your palms, trying really hard to prevent yourself from snapping right here and now. And whose fault is it, huh?! You want to scream at him but bite your tongue.
“Have you found a replacement for him yet?” now, you can see genuine interest in his eyes and you know exactly why. You alone are no threat to him. You’re a semi-successful hunter with nothing much to offer to him. But there are some very capable colleagues of yours out there and he needs to be careful. If you spill some tea and become a liability he would need to get rid of you. Can’t have you walking around and telling your colleagues some secrets. Even though you would compromise yourself too.
“No, not yet.” You reply, swallowing hard. Shanks raises an eyebrow, not quite believing you but he smiles regardless. You avert your eyes, feeling a slight tingling in your stomach. This damn smile which gives you a false sense of security until he shows you his true self. The same smile which had lured you to him in the first place, which made you trust him for some odd reason.
“Well, hope you can find a new partner soon, Y/n.” he says and finally puts the empty glass down.
“So, shall we get to business?” he asks and you all of a sudden you kind of wish he would keep talking about anything else. You peer over to him, unconsciously biting you bottom lip. “Yes, that’s why I’m here.” You manage to say and Shanks nods in agreement.
“How much do you need this time?” This question is makes you feel ashamed all over again, reminding you of all the mistakes you have made in the past that have led to your predicament.
“Well….50.000….” you admit, closing your eyes as you tell him the sum. Shanks whistles and then chuckles in surprise and shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s a lot of money. Maybe you should consider a change of carrier.” He taunts you, knowing exactly why you have some many money-related problems. Of course, he does. He just loves teasing you.
“I don’t think that’s any of your problem.” You murmur silently. You watch as he looks at you intently while his hand reaches for the drawer of his desk and blindly pulls out the all too familiar check-book. He flips it open, grabs a pen and scribbles a number on it before signing it without another comment.
He slides the piece of paper over the desk towards you, his eyes again trained on yours. You see a glistering in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like he is looking right through and exploring the deepest depth of your soul, discovering things you don’t even know about yourself. These are the eyes of the world’s most dangerous predator.
Unable to hold his intense stare you avert your eyes and reach for the check. For a second your fingers touch and you reflexively draw back, the touch electrifying your entire body. Shanks smiles at your reaction and leans back in his chair. You hesitantly reach for the check again and hastily pull it towards yourself before stuffing it in your purse.
“Now, darling, let’s get to the payment.” He starts, resting his head on his fist, his arms on the armrest.
“50.000 would be twice a week for five months.” You swallow at his words. That’s a lot of blood, you think to yourself. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to give so much blood and still keep up with work but you somehow have to manage.
“You might need to take some vacation days. Wouldn’t want you to get fired because of poor work.” He says deliberating as if he was really worried about you.
“I’ll think about it.” You simply say, glad that it is over for now. You’re about to thank him and get up and out when he starts scratching his beard as if he is thinking about something that just crossed his mind.
“You know what I just had to think about?” he starts and you freeze in your place. This couldn’t be good, right? You stay silent and just wait for him to speak. Your eyes watch this dangerous man get up from his seat and slowly round the desk until he is standing behind you. Your body tenses and your heart stops for a moment when you feel his fingers brush against your exposed neck.
“Would you be interested in slightly reducing the months?” his question has you confused and you turn around to look at him. Bad mistake. You are met with a pair of hungry eyes that tell you exactly what he is thinking about. Fear strikes and you feel cornered and exposed.
“You’ve been so good with your last payments for the previous money I gave you that I wanted to be a bit more accommodating.” He continues. His fingers now caress the thin skin on your neck in circles right over your pulse which is hammering under his touch.
“Wha-….what do you mean?” your throat feels dry and you swallow hard without actually swallowing anything. This has caught you completely off guard and you don’t know how to react. This is new. He never shows interest in actually drinking himself. You just have to go to some shady place, get your blood drawn and go back home. To whom he sells the blood to in the end is none of your concern but you know how much blood can get you on the black market.
He smiles his warm smile and removes his hand, waving at you as if this was just a joke. “You don’t have to. It’s just an offer.” He says before slowly returning to his seat.
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and the small gears in your brain are working at top speed, trying to weigh the pros and cons of his offer.
“How many months are we talking about?” you manage to ask, earning you a slightly surprised raise of his eyebrow. Instead of sitting down in his chair he leans against his wooden desk and looks down at you, making you feel even more uncomfortable. His intense eyes are basically already devouring you (or rather the sweet, sweet red liquid that flows inside your body and which keeps you alive). Shanks licks his lips unconsciously, pondering over his reply.
“Let’s say either twice a week for two and a half months or once a week for five months.” He suggests, a winning smile in his lips. You swallow. He’s basically cutting your payment in half! You’d be a fool not to accept….
His winning smile turns slightly sinister. “Or we keep the original payment plan…it’s up to you, Y/n.”
You hate making big decisions. Especially under pressure. Now, that you think about it, maybe not the best personality trait for a vampire hunter. Maybe that’s the reason you’re just not making any progress in your career.
And then there is this other thought that has been swirling the back of your head ever since he’s made his offer. You’ve never actually been bitten by a vampire before! Getting your blood drawn from your arm in some shady abandoned factory building by some even shadier men (you presume they were humans judging by the way they acted) was one thing but having a pair of long fangs stuck in your neck, sucking you dry – just the thought of it makes you feel dizzy. What kind of sounds would blood sucking even make right next to your ear?
“Okay.” You hear yourself say and your eyes look up at him. The vampire cocks his head to the side, fake confusion on his features. “Okay what?” he insists, making you say it out loud what you want.
“I’ll take the reduced payment.” A happy smile forms on his lips. “Great! You’re a wonderful business woman. What an excellent decision.” You don’t need to be particularly smart to know that he, at this point, is simply mocking you and your stupidity. Regret forms in the pit of your stomach and you want to vomit at the prospect of what’s about to come.
“I will send a car tonight to pick you up.” He announces and finally sits down on his chair again. Obvious confusion is plastered all over your face and Shanks answers the question that is about to spill from your lips.
“Do you really think I would just drink you dry here and now until you’re barely alive and begging for me to either kill you or save you?” the mental image of you being pressed on top of the desk, his mouth sucking the blood out of your body, the feeling of you becoming weaker and weaker until you feel your mind slowly turn black, all strength leaving your body. You try to push him off of you but it’s simply impossible. He taunts you, taunts your weakness and your helplessness. You beg him to please let you go but you simply can’t move. Hope slowly becomes nothing but a distant memory and you submit to your inevitable fate. Your lips form silent words that beg him to please help you out of your misery, begging him to make the pain go away...
"Kinda..." you admit and charm a genuine laugh from his throat.
“I have other plans.” He admits before taking out an old phone, probably a burner phone. “Be ready at 9 p.m. Oh and….maybe take a shower. I can smell your sweat from miles away. Not very appealing.”
.
.
.
The man sitting in the driver’s seat is silent. You see how his hands basically cramp around the steering wheel, his whole posture is tense and on edge. It’s probably not all day that he’s driving a hunter around the city. He’s not stupid enough to think you wouldn’t take some of your weapons with you so he’s is constantly prepared to defend himself.
The cold metal of the gin in your purse gives you some sort of comfort but deep down you know Shanks would just laugh at you if you pointed it at him. Still, you need it.
The car rounds a corner and your eyes grow wide; he couldn’t have chosen a more public place, could he? The gigantic skyscraper with its glowing lights is blinding you for a moment. Your mouth is agape in awe at the sight of the most luxurious hotel in the entire country; and this vampire could just walk in and out as he pleases? Maybe he has connections because usually vampires are not very welcome in any establishments, let alone luxurious hotels.
The car stops and immediately the door is opened by an employee, offering you a hand to get out of the car. Suddenly, you are aware of your outfit and how inappropriate and underdressed you are for a place like this. The man doesn’t comment on your choice of clothes however you notice the slight disdain in his face though you’re not sure if it’s because of your outfit or because of the fact that you’re about to meet up with one of the most dangerous and most notorious vampires out there. Either way, you can’t blame him.
The elevator door opens and you are led towards the only door on this floor. The bellhop knocks on the wooden door, announcing his and your arrival. You can see how he probably would love to just turn around and leave but he’s been trained not to. There is a thin sheen of sweat gathering at the back of his neck.
The door opens and both you and the bellhop tense up at the sight of the red haired vampire in front of you.
“S-sir, your guest has arrived.” The bellhop stutters terrified. Shanks nods and hands him some money before he dismisses him with a hand wave. You envy the young man who can leave the situation but you, on the other hand, have to stay here. Granted, it’s because of your own stupidity and your own decision but still. You want to run away and never come back!
“Come in, Y/n.” he invites you in, opening the door a little wider but you still have to make yourself smaller in order not to touch him when entering. You feel his eyes on you as you pass by him. The silent click when he closes the door behind you feels like you fate has been sealed entirely. You’re trapped in this penthouse hotel suite with someone who has every intention of hurting you sooner or later.
“Would you care for a drink?” he asks, brushing against your shoulder as he walks past you towards the mini bar. “No, thank you.” You press out, all senses on high alert. Shanks looks at you from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in question.
“Are you sure? They have a very fine wine I’ve been dying to try all night.” He says, pulling out a bottle of red wine.
“I didn’t know vampires care about wine.” You mumble absentmindedly. Shanks chuckles and grabs two wine glasses before filling both with the red liquor. “We don’t.” he simply replies without giving any further explanation and you don’t bother asking. Shanks comes back and offers you one of the glasses. “Thank you.” You say and stare at the liquid, your stomach turning at the sweet smell of the alcohol. You do not feel like drinking but you know he expects it from you regardless. It’s some sort of power play.
“Cheers.” He says and raises his glass. You look up and mimic him before you set the cool glass against your lips and take a small sip. Shanks takes a sip as well, contemplating if he likes the taste or not.
“As expected. Tastes like garbage.” He chuckles to himself and puts the glass down on a table and not giving it another thought.
“Come on, I’ll take that coat off you. It’s pretty warm in here, isn’t it?” you nod even though you feel cold and would really like to keep your coat on but you don’t object. You put down your glass as well as Shanks rounds you and comes to a halt right behind of you. You slowly unzip the zipper and Shanks puts both hands on the collar of your coat, ready to pull it off. His hands graze your neck and you inch away instinctively, pulling your shoulders up in defense.
“Easy there, Y/n. I’m just taking your coat.” He muses, his hands on your coat again, this time taking it off. He hangs it on the coat hanger before he comes back, stopping behind you once again. His hands find your shoulders and the weight is almost crushing. The red-haired man’s face comes closer and you feel the tip of his nose brush against the shell of your ear.
“Loosen up, Y/n.” He whispers as his hands start gently massaging your shoulders. Why is he taking so long? Why does he torture you by delaying the inevitable? You grab your purse tighter, feeling the gun hidden inside precisely. It gives you some kind of reassurance back but still not nearly enough.
“You know, I’d feel more comfortable if you put down that purse of yours….” He mumbles against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine. Of course, he knows you have a gun with you. Why are you even surprised? But you hesitate to follow his “order”.
“Really, Y/n? Not even complying a little by taking that gun of yours out? You can have it back once we’re done but I would feel much safer if you didn’t have it on you.” Shanks admits playfully, one hand slowly wandering down your arm towards your hand that’s still clutching your purse. Your grip turns even tighter when you feel his big hand covering yours, gently but firmly loosening your grip around it.
With a sudden surge of adrenaline, you wake up from your mindless state. You push his hand away and stumble forward, away from the man behind you. With trembling hands you fumble with your purse but manage to pull out the gun. You point it at the vampire in a fruitless attempt to look threatening.
Shanks just looks at you sadly, the corners of his mouth turned downwards in a visual show of displeasure. “Are you really pointing a gun at me, Y/n?” he asks, slowly taking a step forward.
“Stay where you are!” you warn him, your finger around the trigger, ready to shoot. But Shanks is not impressed and takes another step forward, and another, until he is standing right in front of you, the gun pointing directly at his heart, pressing against his body.
“If you point a gun at someone you should better be ready to pull the trigger, Y/n.” he taunts you, coaxing you even further backwards only with his presence until you bump against a table. You’re trapped. For your own reassurance you try pushing him away with your gun, looking back and forth between your gun pressed against his chest and his face which turns more and more predatory with every passing second.
Shanks leans forward, not bothered by the weapon pressed against his chest, threatening his life, and watches how you in return lean backwards to keep the distance until your back is lying flat on the table.
“Stay away!” your voice is weak and the vampire sees how scared you are. He has noticed the growing fire inside his stomach; a very good indication at how thirsty he really is. He is a master of self-control but with the prospect of getting a meal very soon slightly clouds his mind.
With one swift motion he grabs your wrists with an iron grip, almost crushing it between his fingers. You let out a surprised and painful scream. You want to pull the trigger but his harsh grip wouldn’t let you move one muscle so you have to just watch as he pushes your hand holding the gun away until he is pinning your wrist down above your head on the table. With his other hand he easily takes the weapon away from you and carelessly throws it into a corner.
Shanks presses his upper body against yours, his left hand grabs your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at his now red glowing eyes. In the light of the room you can see his fangs in his mouth, ready to sink into your soft flesh.
“S-stop! I changed my mind!” you plead but Shanks simply shakes his head. “I don’t care. You made your decision, so deal with it.” He reprimands you heartlessly. His body wiggles a little, trying to press himself between your legs and eventually succeeding. His crotch is pressed against yours and his free hand is holding your hip in place with an equally iron grip like before.
The hand on your chin turns your face to the side, exposing your most vulnerable part to the hungry vampire above you. You press your eyes shut, holding your breath as Shanks’ lips gently caress your skin. His tongue darts out between his lips and follows the aorta, eliciting an audible gasp from you. As petrified as you are, you can’t deny that the feeling of his mouth against your neck right now is not unpleasant.
Shanks stops for a moment, his hot breath ghosting your damp skin. He turns your head back to face him, his own merely inches away from yours. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide and the dark red equally enticing and terrifying. You are caught in an invisible web you can’t seem nor want to break free from. Your body relaxes and you unconsciously widen your legs a little bit.
The deepest depths of your mind are screaming for you to not give in; you know it’s a tactic; you know he is making your body willing. It is all part of his predatory nature before he strikes and kills his prey. But your body ignores your mind’s warning.
“Weak little human.” Shanks mumbles, examining your willing body for a moment before his attention is back on your neck. “Don’t take this personal.” Is his last warning.
You willingly turn your head to the side again. Out of the corner of your eyes you see his read hear disappear out of your sight. Instead, you feel the stubbles of his beard against your skin. Your body is hot and on edge, anticipating the moment his fangs enter your body. You barely heat his words and you don’t care what he just said…
…that is until an enormous amount of pain surges through your neck and explodes. You want to kick, you want to scream, you want to turn your head to deny him any more access to your neck but Shanks is a seasoned vampire. His lower body which is pressing against yours is preventing you from kicking him, his right hand grabs both of your wrists and pins them against the tabletop and his left hand holds your head in place. In other words: he is completely restricting any movement.
It feels like someone just stabbed you with a knife in the neck. Your blood is rushing in your ears and you don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or Shanks sucking. Either way it is deafening and you have the feeling of losing consciousness any moment. Has he already sucked you dry? Are you dying?
The steady sound of Shanks swallowing your blood has you sobbing soon. The kicking and struggling has turned into fear and acceptance. Tears stream down your face and onto the surface of the table; your chest is heaving with every sob, the tears blurring your vision.
Shanks notices how your resistance slowly stops and he smiles against your neck. Now he has you. Now, you’re completely his. Now, he can do with you whatever he wants. You’re scared to death; you fear for your life and you know he can end your life with one single bite and there is nothing you can do about it.
He slowly pulls his teeth back out before his tongue licks at the two small holes where your blood is dripping out. His grip around your wrists and on your face eases until he lets go and stand back up, his now normal eyes looking down at you. His lips are red from your blood as well as his tongue which licks the rest of It from his lips.
“Thank you for the meal, Y/n. It was much appreciated.” He thanks you but you can’t hear him. Only out of the corners of your eyes you watch him take a few steps back until he disappears from your sight.
From what seems like far away you hear his voice. “Stay like this for as long as you like. But I believe you’re all too familiar with blood loss, right, Y/n?” referring to your previous payments to him from various loans. You stay silent. You can’t talk, you can’t move, you can’t think. Right now, you’re just a body which is lying on the table, still trying to fathom what just happened.
The only thing you are entirely sure about is that you are in even deeper trouble than you were before.
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