[+18] Call me by my name - Bonten S.Manjiro

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Genre: smut /!\ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT /!\Characters: Bonten Mikey x fem!readerWarnings: depictions of violence and depictions of intimate encounter

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Genre: smut /!\ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT /!\
Characters: Bonten Mikey x fem!reader
Warnings: depictions of violence and depictions of intimate encounter

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Cries. Wails. Whimpers. Pleads. Terror. Dread. Death. The metallic smell of blood was lingering in the air, so strong, so prominent one would puke. Darkness was filling the empty warehouse except for the little bulb flickering a yellowing light upon the tied and beaten-up man. Located had become hell on earth for him. The moment he was brought here, it had become a one-way ticket for the underground with hot hope of coming back. The moment he had woken up in this warehouse, he had known. It was only a matter of time before his time comes.

"Who did you tell?"

You asked, eyes blankly and coldly staring at the weeping man. His face was blued with bruises and full of blood dripping on his clothes. His state was greatly clashing with how clean the woman looked. Dressed in a very expensive-looking suit with a fancy corset exposing your beautiful cleavage where the infamous oblong tattoo was so proudly exhibited, you readjusted your black gloves. With the lack of answer from the man, you tilted your head to the side, your so ice-like gaze silently threatening him. Immediately, even more, tears rolled down his visage.

You heavily sighed. You were done going round and round in vain. You had tracked him down - direct order from the boss you always obeyed - searched for the proof, got it, and then brought him here. And even with everything against him...

"No one! I told no one, I swear!" the man cried.

You sighed, disappointed, as you shook her head. You grabbed the gun that was strapped to your hip and removed the safety. This so recognizable click sent dreadful chills down the man's spine. But instead of pulling the trigger just yet, you brutally hit the man across the face with the weapon. His head jerked on the side as his body fell to the floor. He whimpered and groaned in pain. Blood was dripping from his head.

You crouched before him, eyes still coldly gazing at him. You reached for your pocket. The man shivered in fear, afraid you'd take another weapon to torture him. But instead, you took out an external drive. The man froze, the little color in his skin vanishing at once. It was way worse than a weapon. It was his death certificate.

"I presume you know what this is," you said. The man said nothing and just trembled in fear. He was doomed. And he knew it. "I found this at your apartment. I took a little look into it. I'm impressed you have gathered that much information. I assume you have somewhat broken into one of the Haitani's offices,"

The man said nothing. You cocked your head to the side, an indifferent moue on your face.

"I let you one last chance," you continued. "I am expected to be at the bar for the Grand Opening in twenty minutes. Obviously, I won't be there in time. I have to get rid of my body afterward and then get changed for the festivities. And I'm currently getting very pissed because you don't have the fucking guts to take responsibility for your betrayal. I'm being very reasonable right now,"

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