hey everyone! i should have done this sooner, but I kinda wanted to get my navigation up. i've decided ill just say it now
if you are an ageless/blank blog, DNI!!! for those who dont know what dni means, it means do not interact.
so that means dont follow me, dont like/reblog my posts, etc. you must have a clear age in your bio/pinned post! you cannot just say 18+.
and please do not interact if you're under the age of 16. and if you're 16-17, only interact with my fluff/angst posts! thank you for your time to read this.
I will be blocking anybody who follows me/interacts as an ageless/blank blog from here on out
╰ you are to be married to king kisaki before your father passes but he is not the person you wish to be with.
⚠︎ medieval!au, arranged marriage, fem!reader but they/them pronouns used, half-brother!kazutora, cw in each chap
o . nulla. 900 | it's improper to have feelings for your freshly assigned knight and best friend; at least the world will never know.
i . ruthless king. 1.8 k | the king of valhalla visits your castle with a proposition for your father.
ii . mercenary. 2.1 k | the ruler of the black dragon kingdom helps you escape your fate.
iii . poisoned. 1.1 k | your disappearances breaks more than one heart.
iv . bedless. 2.5 k | maybe your feelings aren't the worst thing in the world.
v . hunted. 1 k | everything's going wrong, it seems.
vi . final loss. 1.2 k | an unfortunate end.
fin. ♡ pls do not ask for a continuation of this series, it is completed in it's entirety at part six.
❦ synopsis: the girl you babysit is cute. her hot, single, mafia dad is cuter. (and rich).
❦ pairings: sugardaddy! wakasa imaushi x f!reader
❦ tags/cw: sugar daddy! waka, age difference, but nothing too crazy lol, reader babysits his daughter, yes hes a hot single dad, yes hes a dilf, eventual smut, sexual tension, slow burn, romantic tension, cunnilingus, oral sex, a lot of sex actually, steamy makeout sessions, rich!waka, he takes good care of u, more tags to come just trust meeeee read it, brought to u by the same bitch who made party monster. (chapter specific tags: sexual tension.)
❦ a/n: I can't wait for this fic to take off plot wise ughhh... do any other writers do that thing where u get so excited to write the good bits of the story that you start rushing past the first few chaps? guilty tbh. anyway! not proofread!!! I'll prob do that later. enjoy bbgs
❦ w.c.; 4.8k
chapter index
Talk… business? You swallowed.
“Yes, sir,” you said, allowing him to lead you over to the couch.
I’m gonna die here.
He strode over to the red leather couch, sinking into it with a relieved sigh. Part of you wanted to follow suit. The more sensible half of you knew better.
White Leopard. Don’t forget that.
There was a tray on the coffee table – two crystal wine glasses and an expensive-looking bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, which he reached for earnestly.
“I’m not gonna hurt ‘ya, y’know,” he chuckled, as if he had sensed your tension from the other side of the room. He patted the armrest of the couch next to him. “Sit.”
Without a word, you sat quietly where he had beckoned you to go. Quietly, quickly, lips pressed together like a mouse beneath a cat’s paw. The air in the room seemed to shift.
“You’re over 21, right?” He asked you, grabbing the bottle opener off of the coffee table.
You nodded. There was a lock on your voice box. Least, that’s what it felt like. You were too intimidated to speak now that you were actually in his presence. He didn’t look the way you had expected him to, that’s for sure, having traded the mental image of a large, brutish man with a scarred face for one of a guy who looked like something out of a dream. None of that negated the fact that he was still one of Japan’s most famous crime lords.
“Miss Sano told me that you would be taking over her position as my daughter’s nanny. She had a lot of good things to say about you,” He mused.
Did she now?
You weren’t aware that you were going to be taking over her position. She had only told you that you were going to be filling in for her for the evening. You made a mental note of that and filed it away in the back of your mind, making sure that you would bring this up in conversation with her tonight.
Still, not wanting to get on his bad side, you went along with it.
“Yes, that’s correct,” You nodded. “I have a lot of experience in the area of childcare, I guess.”
He popped the cap off of the bottle, letting the crimson liquid pour into the crystal glass. The deep red splattered against the tempered sides of the glass, standing out like blood in the snow. The room was painfully quiet for a moment as he topped off the second one.
He grabbed both cups by the stems, leaning back into the couch and crossing one leg over the other.
“So, tell me what you’ve heard about me,” He addressed the elephant in the room, offering you one of the cups, which you eyed up rather dubiously.
Your wide eyes flitted up to his own half-lidded ones. “What?”
He smiled, then he laughed. The sound made your heart skip a beat. “I know you know who I am, you’re shakin’ like a leaf,” he mused, holding the glass toward you. When you took it from him – after a brief moment of hesitance – he clinked the side of his glass against yours. “You can be honest, I don’t bite.”
On cue, he sat back, sipping a bit of the red liquid from his glass and throwing his arm over the back of the couch. He exuded an air of dominance, like the weight of his title was dripping from his pores. Still, the man was devilishly handsome.
You found yourself torn between feeling flustered and feeling intimidated by him.
“Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” He crooned almost teasingly – like he knew exactly what to say to have you pressing your legs together.
You couldn’t deny your growing attraction to the man, feelings of lust and bewilderment intermingling with the fear that seemed to grip your heart. And, shit, when he spoke to you like that…
“I’m sorry, sir,” You rubbed your hands together between your legs, sweat relieving you of the friction you wanted to feel on your palms. “My friend Emma is pretty familiar with Tokyo’s delinquent world. You’ll have to forgive me for being so nervous. If I may speak candidly, sir, you have a bit of a reputation around these parts.”
He ran his tongue over his perfect teeth. “That so?” He asked, like he wasn’t aware.
He was toying with you. You could feel it.
You could sense the power he held, the way he reveled in the control he had over the situation. It both intrigued and unsettled you, creating a magnetic pull that made it hard to look away from his penetrating gaze.
"Yes, sir," you replied, your voice slightly shaky. "Word on the street is that you're someone not to be messed with. People say you have connections that reach every corner of the city."
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the quiet room. He took another sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re a smart girl.”
Head dropping a bit, you averted your gaze. “Thank you, sir,” you replied.
“Imaushi San is fine,” He dismissed the formalities with a wave of his hand.
You couldn't help but be drawn to his charisma, his self-assuredness. Despite the warnings and cautionary tales, you found yourself wanting to know more, to peel back the layers and discover the man beneath the enigma.
So you found yourself glancing around the penthouse, searching the framed paintings and photographs for any sign of a missus. You wanted to know if this was someone’s husband you were ogling. Not like you would ever act on impulse, of course, just out of curiosity…
"Can I ask a personal question, Imaushi San?" You ventured cautiously. When you received a quiet nod in response, you took that as your green light to continue.
You swallowed. “Aya’s mother… is she… in the picture? I don’t see any pictures of the two of you.”
His lips curled into a sly smile, revealing a hint of amusement. "Are you asking me if I’m a married man?"
Your eyes widened in surprise.
"No! I mean, I… well…" you stammered, struggling to find the right words. Take a deep breath, you told yourself. Shit, if you knew what you had been getting into, you would have declined Emma’s request.
Wanting to keep this conversation going – not just for the fat paycheck your friend had alluded to earlier – you admitted, "Yes, I suppose I was. I’m sorry, Sir, we can move on."
“I never said I wasn’t comfortable answering your question,” He chuckled softly, leaning closer to the armrest you were perched by. He was so close now that you could smell the liquor in his glass. So close that you could smell the expensive cologne on his collar, strong notes of amber and saffron mixed with something woodier. It made your head spin.
You shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease. His proximity had a way of amplifying the magnetism that radiated from him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
"No, sir, you don't have to answer if you're not comfortable," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "I apologize if I overstepped."
His sly smile widened, as if he relished in your unease. "No need to apologize," he purred, his voice smooth as silk. "You’re a curious ‘lil thing. I like that."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but be drawn further into his charm. You found yourself captivated by the details of his appearance, the vivid picture they painted in your mind.
The soft light in the room seemed to accentuate his features, casting a mesmerizing glow upon his face. His blond hair, styled with a purple under dye, added a rebellious touch to his otherwise polished appearance. It was as if he effortlessly straddled the line between sophistication and nonconformity.
But it was his eyes that held you captive. They were captivating, with a gentle droop that added an alluring vulnerability to his gaze. His long, pretty lashes framed those eyes perfectly, accentuating their depth and intensity. They seemed to hold secrets and untold stories, drawing you in with their enigmatic allure. His smile, with just a hint of mischief, revealed a row of perfect, pearly white teeth, adding to his overall charm. His lips were temptingly inviting, making it hard to resist the desire you felt bubbling deep in your gut.
This man was positively oozing with sex appeal.
The relief you felt when he finally relented was tangible. He sat back, draining the last drop of wine from his glass.
“I only met Aya’s mother once. She was an oopsie baby. Didn’t even know I had a kid until her mom gave her up, leaving little Aya in my care,” He answered your question with ease. “She was only a few months old. She’s been here since.”
You nodded, swishing what was left of the wine around in your own glass rather pensively. Drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth, you trained your gaze on the crimson liquid. Finally, you tipped your head back, letting the rest of it slide down your dry throat.
“Anything else you wanna know about me?” Waka asked with a hint of humor behind his smile. “Now that we’ve broken the ice?”
The wine was making you a little bold, it would seem. You blamed that logic for the words that left your mouth soon after.
“How old are you, Imaushi san?”
You always had been a lightweight.
Still, to your surprise, the man actually answered your question, collecting the empty glass from your hand along with his own. Well, answered in his own special way, that is.
“How old do you think I am?” He mused, brushing a blond strand away from his eyes.
You furrowed your brows. “I don’t think that would be very professional of me if I answered such a question, Imaushi san.”
He set your glasses down on the table with a quiet ‘clink’. “I won’t fire ‘ya for it,” He offered. This time, when he sank back into his seat, his legs were spread a bit. Arm around the back of the couch again, his hips slid forward as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable.
“Go on,” He said. The sly glint that danced in his eye had you squeezing your thighs together. “Guess.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his playful challenge. The wine had indeed emboldened you, and you found yourself playing along with his game.
"Well," you began, trying to assess his appearance and demeanor. He sat there patiently, appearing to be amused by the way you shamelessly eyed him up. "you have a certain air of confidence and sophistication that suggests experience. But there's also a youthful energy in your eyes, a spark that hints at a more adventurous spirit."
You hesitated, aware of the thin line you were treading. But his encouraging gaze urged you to continue.
"Based on those observations, I would venture to guess that you're in your forties or early fifties," you finally replied, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement at your boldness.
You blinked, momentarily unsure of how he would respond to your playful guess. However, to your relief, his lips curled into a wide smile, and a hearty chuckle escaped him. The sound was infectious, filling the room with a lighthearted energy.
"You think I'm that old?" he reiterated, his laughter infectious. "Do I look forty?”
“No, Sir!” You waved your hands frantically, trying to dismiss his rumor to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn't help but join in his laughter, the tension easing from your shoulders. The wine had certainly loosened up the atmosphere.
“You don’t look a day over twenty-two,” you replied. It was honest, too. You weren’t even exaggerating. He looked a lot younger than you thought he was.
His sly smile widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah?”
“I swear on my life,” You nodded.
"I’m flattered,” he said, his amusement still evident in his voice. "But, no, I'm thirty-four."
Eleven years older than me.
A sense of relief washed over you, grateful that your incorrect assumption hadn't caused any offense. You found yourself drawn to his infectious laughter and the way it seemed to lift the weight from the room. It was a refreshing change from the intensity that had lingered moments ago.
“I’m twenty-three,” You answered the unasked question.
He chuckled, “You were born when…? 1989?”
You shook your head, feeling the tension melt away from your shoulders as the conversation progressed into friendly territory. “1991.”
“1980,” he hummed. “November twenty-eighth.”
“You’re a Sagittarius,” You noted with a genuine look of interest on your features. “I’m a Gemini. Our signs are supposed to get along very well, super compatible.”
A subtle shift occurred in the atmosphere as your words lingered between you. The mention of astrological compatibility seemed to ignite a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.
His lips curled into a knowing smile. "’That so?"
As the weight of his gaze intensified, a wave of realization washed over you. Your heart skipped a beat as you suddenly comprehended the gravity of the situation. This man, with whom you were engaging in an enticing conversation about astrological compatibility, was your boss.
You quickly shifted in your seat, a tinge of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. The friendly territory you had naively ventured into suddenly felt unprofessional and inappropriate given the context of the interview.
"I... I apologize, sir," you stammered, your voice betraying your discomfort. "I didn't mean to steer the conversation in that direction."
His expression softened, his amusement giving way to understanding. He held up a hand, a gesture of reassurance.
"No need to apologize," he offered.
An awkward silence blanketed the space between the two of you – the space which, in comparison to a few moments earlier, felt so vast. During that time, you dropped your gaze to the carpet, tracing the tasteful pattern with wide eyes.
He checked the time on his expensive-looking watch, seemingly aware of the tension that had settled between you. "I should probably get going," he suggested, bracing his hands on his knees and getting up from his seat.
"Before I go," he began, his voice gentle yet steady, "let me give you a brief overview of the responsibilities as a nanny."
You looked up, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus back to the professional matter at hand. Your heart still fluttered with unspoken desires, but you knew you had to push them down. You would deal with them – and your sneaky best friend who had set you up for this – later.
"Your primary responsibility will be caring for my baby girl," he explained, speaking with a fatherly demeanor that made your heart melt… just a little. "So everything you would expect. Prepping meals, having playtime, helping with homework, and ensuring her overall comfort ‘n security."
You nodded, folding your arms against your chest and listening intently to what he was saying. You really, really didn’t want to give this job opportunity up so fast.
Wait, what?
"You will also be responsible for maintaining a structured routine," he continued, his voice gentle but firm. "Bedtimes, extracurricular activities, yadda yadda. Consistency and organization will be key. For any food or shopping needs, just shoot me a text, and I’ll have a driver come get you. Feel free to explore the penthouse while I’m gone."
He was collecting his stuff as he spoke. Keys, a coat, an envelope.
With a final nod of gratitude, you tried your best to speak as if the last five minutes of your interview with him never happened. “And should an emergency arise…?”
Already in front of the door, he said, “Call me,” He said. He unlocked the door. “I didn’t have time to print up a formal contract. Again, I’m sorry all of this is so last minute. I’ll have one for you next time you come in.”
The man paused for a moment, like he had forgotten something. Slowly, he turned around, offering you one more thing before he left.
“I don’t have to tell you what’ll happen if something were to happen to her, right?” He asked. You didn't miss the quiet threat that lingered beneath his words.
“No, sir,” You shook your head. “Your daughter is in safe hands.”
He nodded, a sense of relief flickering in his eyes. “See you tonight, then.”
“See you tonight,” you replied.
The door closing seemed a little cruel when you felt that you were just getting to know him. As you mulled your conversation with the man over in your head, feelings of conflict arose. You didn’t know how to feel about any of it.
One thing was for certain. You were going to murder your best friend.
-
Aya had been an absolute angel throughout the evening. She didn’t throw any fits, and her fussing had been minimal. After spending a couple hours with the girl watching TV over the dinner you had served her – the dinner her father had thoughtfully prepared for the both of you, Spaghetti and meatballs – you began her night time routine.
You found yourself being led by the little girl to her bedroom, which emitted a warm glow, adorned with soft toys and scattered drawings. The walls were painted a gentle shade of lavender with off-white trims and accents. The window she had in her bedroom was bigger than the one you had at home, a view of the city skyline below framed by white curtains decorated with small, pink and purple butterflies. Not to mention that her entire bedroom looked to be bigger than yours.
She had a lot of room to grow, that was for sure. This kid was living lavishly.
As you entered the room, your eyes wandered over the expanse of the wall nearest to her walk-in closet. There were shelves with ballerina figurines and tiaras, little pink things and signs that all mentioned the word “Princess”. The coloring pages and homemade drawings framed on the wall with utmost care indicated that she was deeply loved by her father, a sentiment amplified by the depictions of her memories with her father drawn on the papers.
At least, that’s what they said. It was kind of hard to tell when his body was a stick with circles – muscles?? – on the arms and a big circle head. She had done her very best to replicate her father’s hair with the bright-colored crayons she was dealt. That, along with the word “Daddy” that was scribbled in crooked letters beneath the stick figures, were the only indicators that they were supposed to be the same man.
The portraits were all dated in a different colored ink, although it looked like an adult’s handwriting. The mental image of Mr. Imaushi taking the time to date each and every single piece here – and then buy frames for them – was enough to bring a smile to your face.
He really loved her.
Aya climbed into her plush pink bed sheets. She looked a little exhausted. You sat down beside her, brushing a blonde curl away from her chubby face.
“You ready for bed?” You asked with a gentle smile.
Aya nodded sleepily, her voice soft and mellow. “Mhm.”
You tucked the covers around her small frame, ensuring that she felt snug and secure. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you began to stroke her hair gently, a soothing gesture that seemed to relax her further.
“Do you know when Daddy’s comin’ home?” She inquired, nose scrunching up as she sniffed a bit.
“Not sure, Aya,” you hummed. “He’s at a business meeting tonight. Told me to put you to bed.”
Aya’s wide eyes almost seemed to sparkle at the mere mention of her father. “Can I stay up with you until he comes?”
You melted. Almost caved, in fact. “Princesses need their beauty sleep, Aya. You wanna look pretty for your Daddy when he comes back, don’t you?”
Aya yawned, a small hand covering her mouth. “Goodnight,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Goodnight, Aya,” you replied softly, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. The room fell silent, filled only by the sound of her steady breathing.
You rose quietly, closing the door to her room with utmost care.
Immediately, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. Your fingers seemed to move on their own, dialing up a number you knew all too well.
The line clicked.
“Heya, Chickadee.”
“Emma Sano, I am going to kick your fucking ass,” you hissed quietly into the receiver. You glanced around the empty hall, as if someone were watching you, and then hunched over. “What the hell did you just get me into? Taking over?”
“Oh, that…” She trailed off. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
“The fuck do you mean ‘you’re welcome’? Emma, I did not sign up for this,” You reiterated. “This was supposed to be a one time thing. A favor.”
“Did you meet her dad?”
“Yeah, I did,” you stammered. “But, that’s not the–”
“He’s hot, right?”
“Yeah– I mean, no–” You sighed. “Emma. Listen to me and listen well. What did–”
“I’m going away to college soon. I won’t have time to babysit Aya anymore,” She hummed. There was a lot of noise in the background, like she was out somewhere. “Figured you’d need a side hustle. And a sexy, single father figure. Boom. You’re welcome.”
“Emma,” You said exasperatedly.
“Let’s talk later, okay?” She sped out. “Loveyoubyeee–”
Then, with a click, she was gone. You sighed to yourself, then pocketed the little device.
Let me explore this place a bit before he gets back. You dusted your hands off on your dress and then ventured into the unknown.
The hallway stretched before you, illuminated by soft, ambient lighting. Intrigued, you began to wander, taking in the intricate details of the luxurious surroundings. The scent of freshly polished wood mingled with a hint of floral fragrance, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance.
You let your curiosity guide you, venturing further into the expansive space. The artwork adorning the walls caught your eye, each piece seemingly chosen with care and precision. As you meandered, you noticed the meticulous attention to detail in the intricate moldings and ornate fixtures.
With each step, you couldn't help but feel a sense of privilege. This world of opulence was unfamiliar yet captivating, allowing you to momentarily escape from the ordinary routine of your own life.
As you continued your exploration, you couldn't help but wonder about the man whose home you now found yourself in. What had led him to this point of success and affluence? What stories did the walls of this grand residence hold?
The silence of the house amplified the sound of your footsteps, creating a gentle echo that accompanied your journey through the hallways. It was as if the space itself held a secret, waiting to be discovered.
Lost in your thoughts, you ventured further, curious to see what other wonders awaited you.
You had lost track of the time that had passed as you gazed up at the framed portraits on the wall. A photograph of Mr. Imaushi in the bath with his infant daughter, cradling her head to his bare chest. Another of her on her first birthday. One more of the two of them at a theme park.
Lost in contemplation, you were unaware of the passing time, unaware of the presence that had quietly materialized beside you. Startled, you turned to face Mr. Imaushi, who stood there with a wistful expression on his face.
"She used to be a redhead," he sighed, his voice carrying a tinge of nostalgia. The admission caught you off guard, the vulnerability in his tone revealing a side of him you hadn't expected.
In that moment, you realized that behind the air of dominance and success, there was a man who cherished the memories and milestones shared with his daughter. The photograph collection served as a visual testament to the bond they shared, capturing the fleeting moments that had shaped their lives.
Feeling a mix of intrigue and sympathy, you met Mr. Imaushi's gaze, the weight of his words lingering in the air. The silence between you held unspoken emotions, the depth of which you could only begin to comprehend.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” You noted. “When did you get home?”
“I’ve been home a little while now,” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through your body. "Care to join me into the kitchen?”
You did. Very much so.
So you followed him to the kitchen, the soft glow of the pendant lights casting a warm ambiance over the room. The air felt charged, heavy with anticipation as you stood in his presence, the proximity between you electric with something you couldn’t quite place.
Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, Mr. Imaushi's posture exuded both confidence and allure. His eyes bore into yours, a magnetic pull that made your heart race. There was a playfulness in his demeanor, a subtle invitation that ignited a fire within you.
"So, tell me," he began. "How did my little princess behave for you today?"
"She was an absolute delight," you replied, a touch of warmth in your voice. "Well-behaved and charming, just like her father."
Imaushi’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and amusement. "I'm glad to hear that," he hummed, his voice laced with appreciation. "It's reassuring to know that she's in good hands."
He didn’t ask any more questions. Part of you was nervous about that. Part of you felt that his lack of inquiry could be chalked up to the fact that he trusted you.
As the silence lingered between you, an envelope materialized in his hands. He held it out to you. "I have something for you," he stated, his voice smooth and enticing.
Curiosity piqued, you took the envelope from him, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. You carefully opened it under his watchful gaze. As you revealed the thick stack of cash neatly tucked inside, your eyes widened in surprise.
"What's this?" you asked, a hint of bewilderment in your voice.
A playful smirk danced across Mr. Imaushi's lips. "Your pay," he explained, as if that should have been obvious. “300,000* Yen, plus a little more for coming so last minute.”
Then his eyes locked onto yours, his words laden with a silent invitation.
A shiver ran down your spine as his words hung in the air, the undeniable tension between you growing more palpable by the second.
Gazing into his smoldering eyes, you couldn't help but respond, your voice trembling a little. You could no longer differentiate between fear and desire. “How much of this is the ‘extra’?" you asked.
Imaushi crossed his arms. As he shifted against the counter, a few strands of hair fell over his shoulder, cascading over the black fabric of his dress shirt. He looked delectable. He licked his lips slowly, tantalizingly.
"I’m paying you double time." he replied, his voice husky. "150,000 for now, but we’ll discuss your pay a bit more next time you come in, as well as your schedule moving forward.”
You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. “Thank you, sir.”
“You did great work today. Feel free to text or call if you have any questions after you go,” He smiled. It seemed genuine, lilac eyes soft as they lingered on your face. “Other than that, though, you’re free to go. I’ve already called you a cab.”
You were at a loss for words. Gently pulling away, you took a step back and bowed before him.
"Thank you, sir," you replied, your voice soft but composed. "I appreciate your generosity and the opportunity."
With a final glance, you turned to make your exit. The electricity of the encounter still hummed in the air, leaving you with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. As you reached the doorway, you couldn't resist a parting remark.
"Have a good evening, Imaushi San," you said, your voice betraying your desires. “I’ll be sure to reach out if anything comes to mind.”
You really hoped that it was lost on the man, that he didn’t catch the underlying tone of your words.
“Lookin’ forward to it," he offered in response.
With a final exchange of glances, you stepped out of the kitchen, the door closing softly behind you. His words echoed in the back of your mind the whole way home.
Looking forward to it.
*300,000 Japanese Yen = about $2.1K USD
a/n: chapter two is finally done!!! huzzah!!! yall know the drill, and if u dont, comment or inbox ur thoughts or ideas for the story! love u all tehe
I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
Everyone: ran is a playboy, he fucks around, is a cheater and parties too much
Ran:
This will always crack me up we all legit ran with the idea of ran being this playboy who clubs every night and gets pussy on a daily when really mans just wants to sleep,eat expensive pastries,and be internationally famous 😂
Braid My Hair, Baby~ | Haitani Ran x Fem!Reader (NSFW/18+)
cw: MDNI, Tenjiku!Ran, cockwarming, orgasm denial, Ran is playful and sassy and a lil mean (but what else is new), explicit smut, ptv sex, creampie, use of petnames (sweetheart, princess, pretty, baby, good girl, darling) ;
wc: 1.4k
auth note: i've been sitting on this idea (damn, u see that pun? hehe) for a while, and finally found the motivation. this is my first Ran post, i hope you all enjoy the drabble! not proofed- if google docs didn't catch it, it doesn't exist right? ~
— part of the @enchantedforest-network 🌿
“Ah come on, sweetheart, you’re not even trying. I know you can do better,” Ran dramatically lets out a breath in feigned disappointment as he drops one of his braids back to his chest.
You’ve been braiding his hair for… god, you lost track of time. It was difficult to focus while you were straddling him, sitting on his rock hard cock, snug inside your fluttering pussy.
This was the condition he set for you when you asked to do his hair this morning. Usually, Ran was far too exhausted to do his braids himself, so when you offered the first time, it just became a well utilized excuse for Ran to get a few extra minutes of snoozing in before he started his day.
But today, he must have woken up on the... wrong side of the bed.
He wasn’t his usual sluggish self, for when you asked if he was ready for you to tend to his beautiful locks, a different glimmer shone in his amethyst eyes. The devious grin he adorned made your breath hitch, and even more so when he insisted you both rid yourselves of your clothing and take perch on the bed, sinking you slowly onto his cock already at attention and leaking for you.
Ran could see how excited you were to have him tight against your walls, already falling into euphoria at the first thrust into you, but he quickly stopped any and all movement by holding your hips still with his well manicured hands.
“Don’t move— Just keep my cock warm while you braid my hair, princess,” he said with pure chaotic amusement in his pupils.
You were holding onto composure for… what felt like hours now, twisting the long sections of his hair around each other repetitively. Only, after you’d think you had done a good job given the stilled position you were told to keep, Ran would inspect the braid and deem it insufficient, and implore you to start over. Bastard.
Your cunt was dripping around the base of his dick, your slick making its way over his groin and his balls, down to the sheets below. Every centimeter of friction was like heaven, as seldom as they were. You always had a lustful craving for the beautiful Ran Haitani, and right now it felt like you would simply burst if you had to redo another one of these braids.
“Rannnn, baby, pleaseee—“ you whined against his tattooed chest. You ghosted your tired fingers over the expanse of his perfect abdominals, the intricate designs flowing down the left side of his body.
“Hm? Please what, pretty?” he cooed. Placing a curled finger under your chin, he pushed your face upward to meet his half lidded gaze, irises glinting with satisfaction at the state of you. “I just need you to braid my hair as perfectly as you always do. Don’t you want me to look nice today?” He jutted out his bottom lip, exaggerating his sarcasm.
You clutched one of his shoulders, entangling some of his free flowing strands into your fingers. He was being so mean, purposefully finding miniscule imperfections in each attempt to braid his hair to make you start over. It’s true that Ran was a snob when it came to his hair, but this was ridiculous.
You rolled your hips ever so slightly in desperation, just to let his cock drag a few inches along your pulsating walls and feed into the dull ache you were feeling in the very pit of your core for what felt like forever now. Your subtle movement was met with a tighter grip at your hip bone and a stronger hand at your jaw. Ran’s brow furrowed and he let out a small hiss between his clenched teeth.
“You don’t need to do that yet, baby. Just braid my hair like a good girl and then I’ll let you bounce on my cock, okay?” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard enough to feel some other pain to distract from your fiery need to ride Ran until you came.
Wordlessly, you take the undone portion of his hair back into your hands, sectioning it off and restarting the braid. Your fingers were aching, your cunt was aching, but you wanted to satisfy your man. If this is what he wanted, then so be it.
You were approaching the blonde portion of his hair now, taking care to smooth out each twist and forming it to lay perfectly. Ran could see the look of frustrated concentration on your face, and gave a small kiss to the corner of your twitching mouth. “Good girl, that’s right, keep going–” His hands moved from your motionless hips to your stomach, around to your tensed back muscles, and to your breasts where he gave them a gentle squeeze, running his thumb over each sensitive nipple. He was rewarding you, as small as it was, for enduring all of this. Truth be told, he was enduring it with you– his dick twitched inside of you every so often as a sign that he, too, would also be growing impatient soon if you didn’t get this right.
You stifled a moan as Ran touched you so softly with care, and finished off the black tipped portion of hair. You maneuvered the small clear elastic off your thumb and tied off the tiny blonde ends to keep everything in place. “T-there– done,” you breathed out.
“Ah ah, let me check your work–” Ran teased before you had any ideas about moving. He inspected his braid both with his hand and his eyes, raking over the strands for any flaws. You were holding your breath waiting for him to tell you to redo it again, and tears began to form on your lash line.
Ran peeked up at you through his lashes while still holding the braid, then back down to slowly brush a finger over the very ends held together by the elastic. He let the braid fall back to his chest and smiled wolfishly at you. “You did a great job, baby. Perfect–”
You rushed to grab Ran’s face and smash your lips against his, releasing all the stiff tension from your entire body and melting into his lap. He pulled your hips down onto his own, a low growl from his chest bubbling up as you rocked your hips into him with wanton force. The sheer amount of your slick between the two of you was apparent, squelching lewdly with every motion.
“Fuck– does my sweetheart want her reward now?” he said between haphazard kisses that were all tongue and no poise. You chanted him a few yes’s over and over until you felt him reach a hand between your two bodies, his thumb making contact with your puffy clit.
“That’s it, ride me baby. S’all yours, fuck–” Ran circled the pad of his thumb around your center, eliciting the filthy moans you were holding in this whole time.
The both of you somehow heard a knock at Ran’s bedroom door. “RAN! Hurry it up, we’re gonna be late!” It was Rindou’s voice on the other side of the door.
Ran let out an amused laugh as he leaned back on his other hand to brace himself while he started thrusting his hips up into your cunt that was squeezing his cock tighter by the second. “‘m a little busy, RIN. G’na… need a few minutes!”
“Oh, Ran–!” you cried out, the coil in your core snapping, cumming harder than you ever have before. Your vision faded to white and your lungs pushed out more cries of pleasure as your body gave out and slumped into Ran, pushing him down against the mattress.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Ran managed to cant his hips into you a few more times before he reached his own high with a gruff moan, spilling his cum deep into your pussy that milked him for everything he had like a vice.
The two of you laid there for a few moments, steadily catching your breath, hazy eyes staring into one another. Ran was the first to break the post-coital silence.
“This is a much better reason to be late than sleeping in,” he laughed and kissed the tip of your nose. You return a giggle and brush a flat palm over his chest, reaching up to caress the side of his face.
He caught your hand and pulled it back, opting to kiss your knuckles. “Careful, darling. If you mess up my hair, we’ll be forced to do this all over again, hm?”
Single Father!Wakasa who doesn't want to get a nanny or babysitter but is convinced by his friends that he needs a little help.
Single Father!Wakasa who Interviews dozens of young people wanting the job but none of them are good enough for his little princess.
Single Father!Wakasa who was ready to give up looking until you showed up at his door asking about the job.
Single Father!Wakasa who lets his eyes run across your body while he interviews you. You don't notice but he finds himself not caring if you did.
Single Father!Wakasa who offers you a job and gives you a tour of his house while talking to you about his daughter.
Single Father!Wakasa who is at least 10 years older than you and covered in tattoos but looks way better than the men around your age.
Single Father!Wakasa who was shocked but extremely happy when all his daughter would talk about, is how much she enjoy having you around.
Single Father!Wakasa who enjoys watching you take care of his daughter. He thinks you'd make a good mother. He just hopes you didn't notice him having to readjust his pants.
Single Father!Wakasa who catches himself watching you more and more each day you work. He won't say anything but he catches you gazing at him too.
Single Father!Wakasa who enjoys when you start wearing more revealing clothing.
Single Father!Wakasa who invites you over when his daughter is having a sleepover at a friend's house.
Single Father!Wakasa that made you a home-cooked meal for you guys to eat under candle light.
Single Father!Wakasa who teases you and pinches at the fabric of the little tight dress you have on. "You wear this for every Father you babysit for?"
Single Father!Wakasa who leans over the table to kiss you. He grabs your hand to lead you out of the kitchen.
Single Father!Wakasa who continues kissing you all the way to the bedroom as he strips that little dress off of you.
Single Father!Wakasa who is surprised but not disappointed when he notices you didn't wear anything under the dress. You just made his job easier.
Single Father!Wakasa who pushes you on the bed while he starts to take off his shirt agonizingly slow, one button at a time.
Single Father!Wakasa who smirks down at you, seeing how inpatient you are.
Single Father!Wakasa who climbs on the bed over you and starts kissing you slowly.
Single Father!Wakasa who kisses down your body while spreading your legs.
Single Father!Wakasa who kisses, bites, and licks on your thighs before dragging his tongue up your slit groaning in the process.
Single Father!Wakasa who eats you out like a starved man while rutting his hips against the mattress ignoring his leaking cock.
Single Father!Wakasa who swears you have the sweetest tasting pussy he's ever had.
Single Father!Wakasa who makes you cum just with his tongue before adding his fingers. Starting out with one but making you cum again on the third.
Single Father!Wakasa who continues to lick and suck on your pussy way past overstimulation just so he can hear those sweet sounds you make.
Single Father!Wakasa who quickly replaces his fingers with his heavy and neglected cock. Eyes crossing and groaning as he feels your tight slick walls squeezing him.
Single Father!Wakasa who doesn't wait for you to adjust and starts at a brutal pace. He couldn't help it. He can't control himself around you.
Single Father!Wakasa who wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes your hip as he speeds up. Nothing but praises leave his lips. "Look at you taking me so well"
Single Father!Wakasa who thinks he's in love hearing you moan and scream his name over and over again as you cum on his cock for the nth time tonight.
Single Father!Wakasa who thinks you are just the prettiest thing he's ever seen lying beneath him naked. "Such a good girl" He says As he shoves his fingers into your mouth to suck on.
Single Father!Wakasa who feels his balls start to tighten and begs for you to let him cum inside. It's the only thing he wants. "You'd make such a good mommy. Let me make you a real one".
Single Father!Wakasa who is overjoyed when you nod your head and beg for him to do it. He thinks his heart may have stopped beating for a moment.
Single Father!Wakasa who cums in you as deep as he can while he slams your lips together in a heated kiss.
Single Father!Wakasa who pulls out after several minutes of laying there inside of you just to watch his cum leak from your pussy.
Single Father!Wakasa who scoops up eventually spilling out with his fingers to push it back in while he starts to finger fuck you. He's just trying to make sure it stays in.
Single Father!Wakasa who flips you over on your stomach while shoving your face in the pillows while he starts fucking you again.
Single Father!Wakasa who creampies you over and over until he is sure he got you pregnant.
Single Father!Wakasa who fucks you everytime you come over to babysit now.
Single Father!Wakasa who hasn't even looked at another women since he started fucking you.
Single Father!Wakasa who is excited to tell his daughter she is going to be a big sister.
idk how the actual fuck you editors out there sit there for HOURS to make edits! i just spent 4+ hours editing and you know what the result was? A TWO SECOND CLIP
╰ the ruler of the black dragon kingdom helps you escape your fate.
⚠︎ more tensions and plot building :3c, minor character death
♡ series m.list
in a month’s time, you’re to be married to kisaki.
you offered your own arguments; that emma from the black dragon’s kingdom was married triple that after you’d received the invitation, but your father dismisses it as nothing in relation to you.
“she is wed to her knight,” he’d say distastefully, “there is no reason to be like her in any sorts; it’s too improper of a princess.” you heard her wedding was beautiful. you were forbidden from attending.
a month is all you have to prepare, plan, escape.
your father passes in the time between preparations, his dying wish for you to have a happy wedding with king kisaki; it leaves your brother as acting ruler until the marriage is official.
yet not a soul knows of the letters you’d been exchanging with king shinichiro, practically begging for asylum in his kingdom; you think it helps that emma is your friend, because he agrees only if you have the means to make the trip, if it’s something you’re certain of doing.
he’s kind enough to help arrange a guide of sorts, someone to aid you in your travels and get you across the borders in one piece. he notes his own distrust for king kisaki, how he dislikes his rise to power relying on blood and murder and other underhanded means, and believes as you do that your disappearance would prevent corruption of your own kingdom.
it’s the nightfall before you’re set to marry kisaki.
the wedding dress that had been painstakingly tailored and sewn with beautiful, expensive laces from kingdoms all over sits prettily in the corner of your chambers, almost mocking you on its stand.
and you have a bag packed as neatly as possible, rations you’d snuck from the kitchen, rupees and coins and jewelry you can bear to live without sit in a pouch tied to your waist, tucked under one of the many layers in your thin dress.
a note you’d spent the last week writing and rewriting is left on your untouched bed, covers remaining as they were this morning when it was remade.
everything is accounted for and in order, and right as king shinichiro promised, the guide climbs in through your open window just as the clocktower strikes midnight.
twelve rings, and he is crouched at your feet in a bow, dark scarf over his face and head with a matching tunic aiding to blend him in with the night. you open your mouth to greet him, only to be stopped at the sound of your door being pushed open.
it’s a first, you think, for baji to enter without knocking.
and you also think maybe he looks more surprised than you do, a plate of fresh pastries in his hand as he takes in the sight of the stranger still low to the ground, far too close to be anything considered unthreatening.
the plate is dropped to the floor in tandem with your guide standing to his full height. by the time the porcelain shatters to the ground, they’re both drawing their swords, and your guide is stepping in front of you almost protectively, a hand out behind him to ensure you keep your distance.
“your highness?” baji questions, eyes flitting to you and how you don’t seem to move from the intruder.
you step between them despite your guide’s placement meant to keep you away, and he clicks his tongue in disagreement, “i’d hate to ruin whatever moment this is, but we only have a five minute window princess.”
baji stiffens, uncaring for the way the title slips from the stranger's tongue.
“(y/n)?” he says instead, begging for an answer, an explanation, and as quickly as you can manage you break down your plans, the reasoning behind them.
how you and king shinichiro agree that your disappearance would mean kazutora would remain king, and with the letter you’ve written, your brother should withdraw the wedding as acting ruler. how he would be a far better ruler, anyways, that it’s something he deserves.
“i cannot marry kisaki,” you finish with a frown, “i will not see my home torn down like the many kingdoms he’s rampaged through.”
baji takes in your face earnestly, before he sighs and sheaths his sword, careful to not cut into the fabric of his tunic. you visibly relax, and you hear your guide's sword also finds place back in its sheath, looking over your shoulder to see he’s peeking his head outside the window.
“ready, princess?”
you nod, despite him not looking at you, reaching down to grab your bag only for baji to take it from you and swing it over his shoulder.
“baji-?”
“pardon the abruptness,” baji apologizes, though a small toothy smile forms on his lips, “but as your knight, i cannot allow your life to be in the hands of this . . stranger.”
you open your mouth to argue, but the guide is quick to wave it off, closing the window and drawing the curtains, “that is something to discuss when we are out of the castle’s walls, we need to leave now while the guards are mid-shift change. you know the corridors well, don’t you?”
you nod, “there’s a passage for the maids at the end of this hall, and they all connect. most lead to the outside.”
“perfect,” the fabric shifts on the stranger’s face; if you had to guess, he was smiling under the mask, “lead the way, princess.”
baji, instead, takes the lead by guiding the three of you through the castle halls, down the corridor, until you reach the end wall. just as you said, there’s a smaller wooden door the two have to crouch under to avoid bumping their heads, until they disappear into the dark of the tunnel.
it’s nostalgic, and almost sad how you may never see these walls you’ve grown up in if things don’t go how you want them to, how you need them to. your fingers run along the worn wood of the door with a small frown.
“(y/n)?”
you freeze at the voice, closing the door quickly out of fear of the two with you being caught as well, spinning on your heel to see your brother staring at you with a tilted head.
“what are you doing up so late?”
“i could ask you the same,” you offer softly, stepping away from the door to meet him halfway, “was going to the kitchen, didn’t want to take the main stairs in case . .”
he seems to understand what you mean without you saying, nodding his head. it’s quiet a moment, his eyes trailing from you to the still slightly ajar door, “remember when we were kids and we would play hide ‘n seek with baji?” he recalls fondly, “you’d always run through the maids' tunnels, and we’d get in trouble because we would get lost.”
you smile at the memory, looking down at your feet, “you two would always run into the maids, too. it would make them drop whatever they were holding.”
he lights up with his own smile, hand finding itself atop your hair and ruffling it in a way that big brother’s do, “‘m sorry you have to do this for the kingdom,” he says finally, “but i’m certain it can work itself out. maybe king kisaki is not all that bad.”
“you speak as if you’ve held long talks with him.” you mumble bitterly. he notes your distaste for your future husband and pulls you into his side with a small frown.
“your mother would be disappointed to see you so upset.” he speaks quietly. you hit him lightly on his side in disagreement.
“our mother,” you argue, “she never liked you referring to her as anything but.”
kazutora pulls away from you slightly, just enough for you to see the way a small smile makes its way back to his lips, “you are right and it is late. go get your snacks and head straight to bed, yeah?”
you hum, pulling him into another hug and holding him there for a moment longer than necessary, the very real reality of this possibly being the last time you could see him settling in when he wraps his arms around you.
“it’s going to be okay,” he assures with a pat to your back, “now go.”
to emphasize this, he pushes you towards the door you previously shut.
“goodnight, kazu.” you whisper.
“goodnight, (y/n).” he returns before you’re pulling open the door and sliding behind it into the dark.
you sigh heavily once in the safety of the tunnels, taking a step away from the door and bumping into a warm body. a yelp almost passes your lips, if not for the gloved hand that presses itself to your mouth, your guide shhhing you before a sound can be let out. when you nod, he retracts his hand.
“sorry,” you continue whispering, “we’ll follow this hall until it ends and then take two rights and a left. it will take us to the stables.”
“baji explained it to me.” he parrots the way you whisper, and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, quick to cover your mouth on your own.
“didn’t realize you two were on a name basis.” you can’t help the tease in your voice. baji clicks his tongue.
“it is just from you saying it, your highness,” he sighs, “he refused to tell me on his own.”
“it’s not important.” your guide argues dismissively, taking the initiative to get the three of you moving forward. down the hall, two rights and a left, and he’s pushing open a gated door leading to the stables, exactly as you said.
though, the passageways is the farthest your secret knowledge in the kingdom goes; you know nothing of the streets of the village, nor the unfamiliar ways to get around without being noticed.
baji and your guide, however, seem well versed in sneaking throughout the area. a little too well, if how easily they slide behind stalls and barrels and houses when a guards light flashes in your direction. you gracelessly stumble behind them, barely ducking away from the ray of the lantern in time and surely giving the two a heart attack from the stress you put them under.
it’s only when the three of you are deep in the woods surrounding the kingdom that the two seem to relax. baji managed to sneak into the portion of your bag with your rations and was helping himself to a piece of bread you’d packed, holding the baked good above your head as a taunt and ignoring the way you argue you’d packed that for yourself, not him.
and as annoying as it may be, it brings that hint of nostalgia back to your chest. to a time where baji was only a friend to you and kazutora, not a knight assigned to you at the age of thirteen, not someone only referring to you as your highness or princess, but your name; because he was your friend, first and foremost, though it had become ingrained in him that you were royalty and only royalty.
shuffling to your right leaves you distracted from the thought (and from trying to take the half-eaten bread from baji). your guide, unwrapping the fabric from his head to reveal dark black hair and . . oh . . oh.
your steps stutter to a stop as you take in his features from the minimal light of the lantern in his hands.
“you’re . . chifuyu matsuno,” you state when he turns to see why you’ve slowed down. “i’ve seen photos of you.” wanted photos, you want to add.
baji turns as well to see what you could be talking about, brows furrowing before they shoot upwards, drawing his sword, “you’re the mercenary the other kingdoms have been warning us of.”
chifuyu’s own brows furrow, head tilting unimpressively at baji’s sword, “yeah? king shinichiro hired me to ensure you make it to his kingdom – ‘ve been pardoned there since i’ve only killed the corrupt and the like. i have no reason to end either of you here.”
you glance to baji, almost uncertain, before you nod your head, “okay, i trust you.”
“what?” baji’s sword remains pointed at chifuyu, though his surprised look is fixed on you, “how can you be so certain?”
“he could’ve killed me in my chambers.” you shrug, “and i trust king shinichiro.”
baji clicks his tongue, sheathing the sword but narrowing his eyes to chifuyu, “try anything and you’re as good as dead.”
chifuyu smiles, eyes lighting up at the challenge, “wouldn’t dream of it.”
