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Day Four: Cruel For A Whistle. ⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻
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(Y/N)'s Perspective. Above the coffee table hangs my feet, Takeomi's lap on either side of my hips as he wraps an arm around me, his chin on my shoulder. he was man-spreading on the main living room with me in between his legs. Kokonoi sat besides us, on the right, inspecting the bracelet he locked in my wrist with a loupe in his left eye, the other one closed, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
it was the day my outside restriction is over. why not enjoy while it last?
"heh." Takeomi snickered when Ran who was sitting after us, arms and legs crossed and bouncing on air.
i have a smirk under my solemn mask, the scene was so funny i swear i could repeat it again and again and not get bored. The charismatic Ran Haitani, who played with uncountable number of ladies' pussies as is they're toys to be used but not re-used, the same man who enjoyed hearing the scream of people and the sound of their bones cracking in his hand loves me so much he's visibly jealous. and The Takeomi Akashi, the man who reeks of cigarette his whole entire existence, and the legendary man who killed those who caused him wrong with no mercy whether woman or man, pregnant or infertile, kid or a friend, that exact man has his arms wrapped around my waist whining in my ears and whispering promises i've already heard before that it came to the point that i already memorized what he was saying like a script for a theater play. his warm breath fanned against the entrance of my ear. "won' cha take my hand, princess? let's get married and live an eternity together." his teeth gently bit my lobes, like the sensations of a soft lotus kissing my skin, i almost moaned at the spot, if not for Hajime tugging my arms as if it was a leash of his dog.
