Ch.078 Attack on the Pentagon, Vermouth Is Moved [ R-18 ]
[~7500 Words]
[A/N: I really liked Vermouth Romance in this chapter ❤️🔥]
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Disclaimer: "This is a work of fiction. The stories, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in these literary works are fictitious and entirely imaginary. No identification with actual persons (living or dead), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred"
The next morning — breakfast time.
A quiet restaurant stood just a kilometer away from the Pentagon.
Fujiwara Takuya had reserved a private room in advance and ordered a luxurious breakfast spread. The air was calm but tense.
Across the table sat Vermouth, her eyes half-lidded, her expression unreadable. She made no attempt to escape — not that she could. Her wrists and ankles were securely cuffed, and several members of the Black Shadow Corps lingered nearby, their presence a silent reminder that resistance was pointless.
Still, it wasn't just restraint keeping her seated.
A part of her genuinely wanted to know how Takuya planned to attack the Pentagon — America's most fortified military command center.
Since that infamous "incident," no one had dared to assault it again. Afterward, the U.S. government had reinforced every security measure imaginable to prevent any kind of surprise attack.
Of course, Vermouth wasn't naïve.
There was always the possibility that the U.S. created some of its own "crises" for political gain.
Who really knew anymore?
Takuya leaned forward, his tone calm but firm.
"Sharon… we agreed, didn't we? If I help you take revenge, you'll become my girlfriend — and you'll bear my children. Don't try to go back on your word. I don't take betrayal lightly."
He said it with a half-smile, though his eyes glinted with warning. He wanted to make sure she wouldn't back out once things went his way.
Vermouth, however, remained perfectly composed.
"No problem. If you can avenge me and truly satisfy me… I can be your girlfriend — and even give you children."
She lifted her teacup gracefully, taking a slow sip before continuing. Her voice was light, but her mind was sharp.
She didn't believe Fujiwara Takuya could pull off something as insane as attacking the Pentagon.
He was talented, yes — mysterious even — but the Pentagon? That was another level entirely.
Still… if he somehow did succeed, then she would be a fool to cross him.
And if a man was willing to storm America's military fortress just to avenge her — well, even Vermouth would be touched by that kind of devotion.
Anyone would be.
Takuya leaned back, his smile deepening.
"Then next… I'll show you what it means to be loved by someone who truly means it."
Fujiwara Takuya's expression hardened, a faint glint flashing in his eyes.
"Then next," he said softly, "I'll show you what it means to be someone who truly loves you."
As he spoke, the Black Shadow Corps began to move.
Inside the Pentagon Building, faint metallic echoes stirred within the ventilation ducts. Then—
Thump.
A shadow soldier dropped down from the vent, landing silently with a rifle in hand.
The corridor was bustling with Pentagon staff just moments ago — analysts, officers, technicians. When the soldiers in black combat gear suddenly appeared, everyone froze.
For a heartbeat, confusion reigned.
Then the realization hit — an armed assault.
Murmurs rose, but before anyone could react, the shadow soldier raised his weapon.
"—"
The hallway exploded with the sound of gunfire. Bullets tore through the air in a relentless storm. The walls splintered; the floor was slick with blood. The staff screamed and scattered in chaos, but the Shadow Corps showed no hesitation — their mission was absolute.
In an instant, the corridor became a scene of carnage.
Across every floor, more soldiers dropped down from the vents, their movements eerily synchronized.
They opened fire with precision and control, systematically taking over entire sections of the Pentagon.
Even the confidential control room fell almost immediately.
Takuya's troops were too fast, too coordinated — a perfect storm of stealth and firepower.
Through remote command, Takuya began downloading classified data.
If he was already here — he thought — it would be a waste not to take everything of value.
Lists of spies. Weapons contracts. Secret operations.
He would expose them all to the world.
He wasn't here to play terrorist.
He was here to play god.
"I'll save this world from its own corruption," Takuya murmured to himself, his fingers flying across the digital interface.
The Pentagon's defenses collapsed within minutes.
The Infinite Arsenal supplied the Black Shadow Corps in real time — endless ammunition, fresh weaponry, and advanced armor streamed into their hands like magic.
The sheer suddenness of the attack left the U.S. military paralyzed.
Within five minutes, the Pentagon — the supposed heart of American defense — was in total chaos.
Vermouth, still seated in the restaurant, turned toward the distant sound of gunfire.
The low rumble of explosions rolled through the city like thunder.
She grabbed the telescope Takuya had placed on the table and looked through it.
A whole section of glass on the Pentagon's outer wall had shattered; smoke was rising. Flames licked the sky.
"How… how did you do that?"
Her voice trembled — part disbelief, part awe.
Takuya simply smiled.
"Just wait. The army will arrive soon. But we're far enough away — the explosions won't reach us."
Through the window, he could already see crowds gathering outside, pointing and shouting as black smoke rose from the Pentagon.
Some were shocked.
Others — disturbingly — were cheering.
Takuya frowned.
"Hmph. Typical of the so-called 'Land of the Free.' Even in chaos, they find a reason to celebrate."
Gunfire echoed again, then gradually subsided.
Vermouth peered once more through the telescope — and what she saw made her blood run cold.
On the Pentagon rooftop, the shadow soldiers were setting up anti-aircraft missiles.
"Oh my god… missiles?" she whispered. "Who are you, Takuya? How did you even prepare this?"
Her heart pounded.
This wasn't just an attack — it was a full-blown military operation.
Takuya's calm voice broke through her thoughts.
"Just watch, Sharon. Tonight, you'll understand what it means to be mine — and why you'll bear my child."
Vermouth lowered her gaze.
Despite herself, her chest tightened — not with fear, but with something far more complicated.
Admiration.
A dangerous, intoxicating admiration.
He had gone to war against an empire — for her.
Perhaps… she thought… it wouldn't be so bad to belong to a man like Fujiwara Takuya.
"Fine," she said quietly. "If you can retreat safely without getting caught, and agree to one small request of mine… I'll keep my promise. I'll bear your child — and be yours."
Takuya's brow arched.
"What's the request?"
"Join our organization," Vermouth replied smoothly, her eyes glinting. "The Winery."
Fujiwara Takuya leaned back, considering Vermouth's words.
"Join your organization… the Winery, huh?"
He rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful. He was, after all, a police inspector — at least by title. Joining the Winery under his real name would be suicide.
No, he thought. Fujiwara Takuya can't join the Winery… but someone else can.
"Alright," he said at last, his tone calm but resolute. "I'll join your organization and help you from within. But I can't use my real name or face. I'll need a new identity."
Vermouth studied him carefully.
She could tell that Takuya was serious — and that was exactly what she wanted.
"That's fine," she said softly. "With your strength and intelligence, a new identity suits you better. You'll rise quickly, and when the time comes… perhaps even surpass them all."
In truth, Vermouth already had a plan forming in her mind.
If Takuya concealed his identity, he could become her trump card, hidden from the Winery's reach — a blade she could one day turn against them if necessary.
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
"Then it's settled."
Before Takuya could respond, his phone vibrated. He checked it once — his expression tightening.
"The FBI and local police are already moving in."
Vermouth's attention snapped toward the window. Sirens wailed in the distance — a rising chorus of panic and authority. She stepped closer, heels clicking softly against the floor, and saw dozens of police cars converging on the Pentagon.
"Looks like every station nearby has responded," she murmured.
Takuya's gaze didn't waver.
"They can't take it back."
Outside, the sound of gunfire erupted once more.
Then —
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
A barrage of rockets screamed through the air, slamming into the police convoy. In an instant, several patrol cars exploded into fireballs. The shockwave rattled the restaurant windows.
"Good god…" Vermouth whispered, eyes wide.
Screams echoed in the distance. Ambulances blared as medics rushed to pull survivors from burning wreckage.
Takuya sighed and shook his head.
"Pitiful. They never even stood a chance."
The chaos intensified. The Black Shadow Corps had turned the Pentagon's surroundings into a battlefield.
Automatic rifles barked in rhythm — da-da-da-da — followed by the heavy, thunderous roar of explosions.
Then came the low rumble of rotors.
Takuya looked up.
"Here come the helicopters."
Vermouth followed his gaze. Several military helicopters were circling in, blades slicing the air, spotlights cutting through the smoke.
But before they could even begin their counterattack—
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Anti-aircraft missiles roared from the Pentagon roof. Each missile streaked into the sky and struck its target in a brilliant flash.
BOOM!
One after another, the helicopters burst into flames and spiraled downward, painting the evening sky in orange and red.
The shockwave rolled across the city. The restaurant's windows rattled violently, and the sound of distant screaming filled the air.
Takuya wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.
"Heh. A little too close for comfort… The explosion was stronger than I expected."
He turned toward Vermouth.
"Let's move. We'll head farther out and watch the news tomorrow. Staying here any longer is asking for trouble."
"Agreed."
Vermouth didn't argue. In fact, she moved even faster than Takuya — the calm, confident woman from earlier now replaced by someone sharp and alert.
They slipped into the streets, blending into the crowd of panicked civilians. People were screaming, running in every direction. Those who had been filming moments ago were now dropping their phones and sprinting for cover.
Even the bravest among them knew — no one was safe when missiles were being fired in the nation's capital.
Takuya grabbed Vermouth's hand and pulled her through the throng. The two of them vanished into the chaos, swallowed by the tide of fleeing humanity.
By nightfall, the Pentagon was still burning.
The sky glowed orange against the black silhouette of Washington D.C.
Takuya exhaled, finally allowing himself a small smile.
The Black Shadow Corps had done it — they had attacked and nearly destroyed the Pentagon in a single morning.
Night had fallen by the time Fujiwara Takuya and Vermouth reached her apartment.
The streets were quieter now, though the distant wail of sirens still echoed through the city. The faint orange glow of fires from downtown flickered through the skyline — a reminder of the devastation left behind.
Inside, the atmosphere was dim but strangely calm.
Takuya had already texted Eri, telling her he would be out for the night.
He didn't mention the real reason, of course — that he was spending the evening with another woman.
As for Kudo Yukiko, she would have to wait until morning.
For now, his focus was entirely on Vermouth.
He settled onto the sofa, one arm draped lazily around her shoulders. Vermouth didn't resist. She had long since realized that with Takuya, resistance only invited persistence — and besides, part of her no longer wanted to pull away.
The television flickered with breaking news reports.
Images of the Pentagon, half-collapsed and burning, filled the screen. Helicopters hovered over the wreckage, their searchlights sweeping across crumbled walls and scattered debris.
The reporter's voice trembled as she spoke:
"The Pentagon suffered a devastating assault today… explosions began at approximately 8:00 a.m. and continued for nearly ten hours. Military officials confirm catastrophic damage. The building's upper structure has collapsed, and rescue operations are still underway—"
The footage changed — aerial shots of destruction, smoke curling into the night sky.
Vermouth's expression darkened as she watched.
Her heart clenched with a strange mixture of awe and disbelief.
Takuya's Black Shadow Corps had done it.
They had brought one of the world's most secure buildings to its knees.
And all… for her.
Takuya lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag before exhaling.
"As expected of the United States," he murmured. "They're powerful — I'll give them that. It took them ten hours to crush a single division of my army."
He exhaled again, smoke curling upward like a faint gray ghost.
'But it doesn't matter. The Black Shadow Corps will recover by tomorrow. The Infinite Arsenal resets at the start of each month. Everything lost will return.'
He was reminded by his system after the fight that they could be replenished.
Vermouth turned toward him, her eyes shimmering faintly under the lamplight.
"You lost so many men… all for me?" she asked softly.
Takuya leaned in, resting a hand on her thigh.
"Of course. To avenge you was worth every bullet. Are you moved?"
Vermouth lowered her gaze.
She didn't answer immediately, but she leaned closer, allowing him to pull her into his arms. The warmth of his body was grounding, even comforting.
And yet, her thoughts swirled with unease.
The magnitude of what he'd done — attacking the Pentagon — would send shockwaves through every intelligence agency on Earth. The FBI, CIA, even the Black Organization would begin investigating.
"They'll find out," she murmured. "Something this big… they'll trace it back."
Takuya chuckled softly. He added in his mind, 'The Shadow Corps leave no bodies behind — not even ashes.'
"No, they won't. Every weapon used came from America's own black market. There's nothing to trace."
His confidence was disarming. Vermouth exhaled slowly and allowed herself a faint smile.
"You're terrifying, you know that?"
"Only to my enemies," Takuya replied, his lips curving into a smirk. "To you, I'm the man who avenged you."
He flicked the cigarette into an ashtray and turned toward her fully.
"Now, Sharon. I've done my part. I've fulfilled my promise. Isn't it time you fulfilled yours?"
Her heartbeat quickened.
She met his gaze — calm, sharp, and unwavering.
Vermouth had known this was coming. From the moment he had said he would "avenge her," she knew what he would ask afterward.
There was no more escaping it.
"You really don't waste time, do you?" she said quietly.
Takuya leaned closer, his tone soft but commanding.
"You promised me, Sharon. A deal's a deal."
Silence filled the room. The TV continued to drone in the background, reporting casualty numbers and political statements — but neither of them was listening anymore.
Finally, Vermouth nodded.
"Since I've promised you, I won't go back on my word. Do what you want."
She shifted, turning her back to him, her long legs folding gracefully beneath her. The hem of her dress slid just enough to reveal smooth, pale skin.
Her movement wasn't entirely submissive — it was deliberate, teasing, a final act of defiance wrapped in allure.
Takuya's breath hitched.
Her elegance, her danger, her poise — it was intoxicating.
"You're testing me," he said, his voice low.
Vermouth looked back over her shoulder, eyes gleaming with challenge.
"Then prove you can handle me."
Takuya smirked.
"Very well. Tonight, I'll make sure you never forget who I am."
The tension between them thickened — electric, inevitable.
Outside, the city still burned. Inside, a different kind of fire began to rise.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
The quiet hum of the city filled the room — sirens far away, the muffled echo of helicopters still circling over the capital.
Vermouth sat before him, her silver hair glinting in the dim light. When she finally turned, her expression was calm, almost serene.
"I said you could do what you want," she whispered. "And I meant it."
Her tone carried a subtle mix of resignation and choice — not submission, but acceptance.
Takuya's gaze softened. Whatever thrill of conquest he had felt earlier gave way to something steadier — a quiet satisfaction that she had chosen to stay.
He stepped closer. "Then tonight," he said quietly, "let the past end here."
[R-18 Scene]
Vermouth leaned back against the sofa, her silver slip dress clinging to her curves like liquid moonlight, the fabric shimmering faintly with each breath.
It skimmed her knees, but the daring slit along one thigh parted teasingly as she crossed her legs, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin that begged for exploration.
She watched Takuya with those half-lidded eyes, unreadable yet laced with that intoxicating mix of challenge and allure—poised, dangerous, a woman who surrendered on her terms alone.
Takuya stood before her, shirtless, his toned chest rising and falling with restrained hunger, the black pants riding low on his hips the only barrier left.
His skin still carried the faint sheen of exertion from the day's conquests, muscles etched in sharp relief under the lamplight.
He didn't rush; he never did. That calm, commanding gaze locked onto hers, a half-smile playing on his lips as he stepped closer, the air thickening with the promise of what he'd earned.
"You promised," he murmured, voice low and firm, echoing the deal sealed over breakfast and blood.
His hand lifted, fingers brushing her jawline with deliberate gentleness—testing, claiming. "And I always collect."
Vermouth's lips curved into a faint, defiant smirk, her composure unbroken even as her pulse quickened beneath his touch.
💖She didn't pull away; instead, she tilted her head just enough to invite, her voice a silken whisper laced with that sharp edge. "Then take it, Takuya. Show me if your devotion tastes as sweet as your victories."
He closed the distance in a heartbeat, his free hand sliding to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him.
💖The heat of his bare skin seared through the thin slip dress, her softness yielding to his hardness. Their breaths mingled first—hers cool and composed, his warm with the faint trace of cigarette smoke from earlier.
Then his mouth claimed hers, not gentle, not brutal, but possessive in that way only he could manage: a slow, deliberate press that demanded everything while giving just enough to tease.
💖Vermouth parted her lips on a soft exhale, meeting him halfway, her tongue flicking out to challenge his in a dance of control.
She tasted like fine tea and hidden venom, elegant even in surrender, her hands rising to grip his shoulders—nails digging in just enough to remind him she wasn't fragile.
💖Takuya groaned into the kiss, deepening it with a tilt of his head, his tongue sweeping against hers in rhythmic strokes that mirrored the chaos he'd unleashed on the world outside.
One hand tangled in her silver hair, angling her for better access, while the other traced the slit of her dress, fingers grazing the exposed thigh, igniting sparks that made her arch subtly against him.
💖She nipped at his lower lip, a playful bite that drew a dark chuckle from him, her eyes gleaming with that complicated admiration when they broke for air—only to dive back in, hungrier.
💖The kiss turned fervent, wet and unyielding, her body pressing closer as if to fuse with his, the slip dress riding higher with each shift.
Takuya's grip tightened, lifting her slightly off the sofa, her legs parting instinctively around his hips as he devoured her mouth, tasting her moans, her defiance, her growing need.
Takuya broke the kiss only long enough to scoop her up, one arm sliding beneath her knees, the other cradling her back.
Vermouth's breath hitched, a startled laugh escaping her lips as the room tilted; the silver slip dress fluttered like a flag of surrender.
💖She looped an arm around his neck, nails grazing the short hair at his nape, and let him carry her bridal-style through the dim hallway.
The queen bed waited, sheets already turned down, moonlight spilling across the pillows in a pale invitation.
He lowered her slowly, deliberately, letting her feel every inch of descent until her spine met the cool cotton.
The slit in her dress parted wide, the fabric pooling around her hips like liquid mercury.
💖Takuya knelt between her thighs, black pants stretched taut over his straining arousal, and claimed her mouth again (deeper, hungrier, tongue stroking hers with the same ruthless precision he'd used to topple empires).
💖His hands roamed: palms gliding up the satin of her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts through the slip, then slipping beneath the hem to map the heat of her skin.
"Mmmm~"
Vermouth arched into the touch, a low hum vibrating against his lips. She tasted victory and smoke and the faint metallic tang of adrenaline still clinging to him.
When his fingers hooked the thin straps at her shoulders, she lifted just enough to let the dress slide down her arms, over her hips, past her thighs, until it whispered to the floor in a silver puddle.
💖Red lace greeted him (bra delicate as a spiderweb, panties a slash of crimson against porcelain skin).
Takuya's mouth never left hers as he traced the lace edges, thumbs circling her nipples through the bra until they peaked hard and aching.
He unclasped it with a single practiced flick; the cups fell away, and Vermouth shrugged the straps free, letting the bra drop.
💖Her breasts spilled into his waiting hands (full, heavy, the pale globes crowned with dusky rose nipples already tight from his teasing).
She stretched languidly, pushing them higher, a wicked smile curving her swollen lips. "Still a child, Takuya? Can't look away from a woman's chest?"
He stilled, eyes dark, drinking her in. "Child?" His voice was velvet over steel. "These are perfection, Sharon. Ripe, responsive… made for worship."
💖He cupped them reverently, thumbs sweeping over the stiff peaks. "Every inch of you is a masterpiece I intend to ruin tonight."
Then he bent, tongue flicking one nipple in a slow, wet circle before drawing it deep into his mouth.
"Aaah~~!"
Vermouth's head fell back, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat.
💖He sucked hard, teeth grazing just enough to sting, then soothed with languid laps.
Switching sides, he lavished the same torment on the other breast, kneading the neglected one with rough fingers, rolling the nipple until it throbbed.
Her composure cracked.
"Mmh... ah~ Aaah~"
Moans spilled free (soft at first, then louder, breathier) as he alternated between breasts, sucking until her back bowed off the bed.
💖He bit down gently, tugged, released with a wet pop, only to dive back in. The room filled with the slick sounds of his mouth and her escalating cries, her thighs clenching around his hips, lace panties already damp against his abdomen.
"Takuya—" It came out a broken plea, pride shredded, hips rolling helplessly.
He hummed approval against her skin, the vibration shooting straight to her core, and kept feasting until she was trembling, fingers tangled in his hair, breasts flushed and glistening, every nerve singing under his relentless tongue.
Takuya's hands slid down the curve of her waist, thumbs hooking into the delicate lace of her panties.
💖Vermouth lifted her hips without being asked, a silent dare in the arch of her back. He peeled the crimson scrap down her thighs, over her knees, letting it dangle from one ankle before flicking it aside.
Cool air kissed her slick folds; she shivered, thighs parting wider in invitation.
He settled between them, broad shoulders forcing her legs open until she was spread shamelessly beneath him.
💖His first lick was slow, flat-tongued, from entrance to clit, tasting the salt-sweet flood of her arousal. Vermouth's breath stuttered—"ahh~"—her fingers digging into the sheets.
He circled her swollen clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing, then sealed his mouth over it and sucked.
"Mmmph—Takuya—" Her voice cracked on a high moan, hips jerking.
He pinned her down with one forearm across her pelvis, the other hand spreading her open so he could plunge his tongue inside.
💖He fucked her with it in long, wet strokes, curling to stroke that sensitive spot that made her thighs quake.
When he returned to her clit, he sucked harder, flicking relentlessly, humming low so the vibration thrummed through her core.
"Haah—yes—right there—nngh!" Her moans climbed, breathless and broken, back bowing off the bed.
💖He slipped two fingers inside, curling them in time with his tongue, scissoring until her walls fluttered.
Faster, deeper, merciless.
Vermouth's hands flew to his hair, yanking him closer as her hips rolled shamelessly against his face.
"Takuya—oh god—I'm—ahh!" The orgasm hit like a detonation, her pussy clenching around his fingers, juices flooding his mouth.
💕 SQUIRT! 💕
She came with a sharp cry—"Aaaahhh~~!"—body shaking, thighs clamping around his head as wave after wave crashed through her.
He licked her through it, gentling only when she sagged, boneless and gasping.
💖Vermouth hauled him up by the shoulders, crushing her mouth to his in a desperate, sloppy kiss.
She tasted herself on his tongue—musky, intoxicating—and moaned into him, "Mmm," legs still trembling.
Her hands scrambled to his waistband, shoving the black pants down. Takuya kicked them off, rising naked above her.
💖His cock jutted heavy and thick, flushed dark, a bead of precome glistening at the slit. Vermouth's eyes widened, then narrowed with wicked approval.
"Fuck, look at you," she purred, wrapping her fingers around the base—couldn't close them fully.
💖She gave one slow pump, thumb smearing the slick tip, then leaned in to drag her tongue up the underside in a long, filthy stripe.
"So big… going to stretch me perfectly." She swirled around the head, tasting salt, and looked up through silver lashes. "Put it in me, Takuya. Fuck me raw—make me pregnant. Fill me up until I'm dripping with you."
Takuya's eyes blazed with that possessive fire, the same glint he'd worn when the Pentagon crumbled under his command.
Vermouth's plea hung in the air like smoke—raw, filthy, irresistible.
💖He gripped the base of his cock, thick and throbbing, veins pulsing under his fingers, and dragged the swollen head through her soaked folds.
She was drenched, lips parted and glistening from her first release, clit still twitching from his tongue.
"Sharon," he growled, voice rough with restraint. "Now take every inch like the queen you are."
He notched himself at her entrance and pushed—slow at first, letting her feel the stretch.
Vermouth's breath hitched, a sharp "Haaah—" escaping as the fat crown breached her.
💖Her pussy fluttered, resisting then yielding, walls clamping down greedily.
He sank deeper, inch by torturous inch, until his hips met hers and he was buried to the hilt, balls pressed tight against her ass.
"F-fuck—Takuya—so big—stretching me—" she gasped, nails raking his shoulders. Her legs fell open wider, knees hooked over his elbows, spreading her obscenely.
💖The position left her completely exposed, red lace long forgotten, silver hair fanned across the pillow like a halo for a fallen angel.
Takuya pulled back until only the tip remained, then slammed home in one brutal thrust.
💖The slap of skin on skin cracked through the room—loud, wet, obscene.
Vermouth's back arched off the bed, breasts bouncing wildly, nipples grazing his chest.
"YES—ngh~—harder!" she cried, voice breaking on the last word.
💕PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!💕
He set a punishing rhythm, hips pistoning, pelvis slamming into hers with every drive.
The bedframe rattled against the wall, headboard thumping in time with his thrusts.
Sweat beaded on his brow, trickled down his spine; her skin flushed pink from collarbone to thighs, glistening under the dim light.
💖"Look at you," he rasped, voice dripping possession. "Taking my cock like you were made for it. Gonna breed this tight little pussy—fill you until you're leaking me for days."
Vermouth's response was a broken moan—"Mmmph—do it—own me—" Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, knuckles white, back bowing higher as he pounded deeper.
💖Each thrust dragged the ridge of his cock along her front wall, sparks exploding behind her eyes.
Her breasts jounced with every impact, heavy and hypnotic; he dipped his head to capture one nipple between his teeth, tugging hard.
"Ahh—Takuya—bite me—mark me—" she whimpered, legs trembling in his grip.
He released the peak with a wet pop and crushed his mouth to hers.
💖The kiss was messy, desperate—tongues tangling, saliva dripping from the corners of their lips, moans swallowed between them. He tasted her tears, salt and need, as her eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering.
"Eyes on me, Sharon," he commanded, slowing just enough to grind deep, pubic bone rubbing her clit. "Watch who's ruining you."
She forced her gaze to his, pupils blown wide, irises shimmering with overwhelmed pleasure. "Y-you—only you—fuck—don't stop—"
💖He didn't. He folded her nearly in half, knees to her shoulders, and drove in harder.
The angle let him hit that spot inside her relentlessly—short, sharp jabs that made her sob with every stroke.
💕PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!💕
Her pussy clenched rhythmically, milking him, slick sounds filling the room: wet squelches, the rhythmic slap of his balls against her ass, her breathless cries.
"Gonna cum—Takuya—gonna—" Her voice cracked, body tensing.
"Do it," he snarled, thumb finding her clit, rubbing tight circles. "Cum on my cock—scream my name."
The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Vermouth's eyes rolled back fully, mouth open in a silent scream before sound tore free—"T-TAKUYAAA—AAAHHH!" Her pussy spasmed, gushing around him, thighs quaking uncontrollably.
💕PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!💕
He fucked her through it, relentless, drawing out every aftershock until she sagged, chest heaving.
But he wasn't done. He straightened, hands sliding to her hips, yanking her into each thrust.
💖The new angle had her breasts bouncing wildly again, nipples brushing his sweat-slick chest.
Vermouth's hair stuck to her damp forehead, lips parted on constant gasps—"Haa—haa—too much—feels so good—"
"Too much?" He smirked, voice dark. "You begged for this, remember? Begged me to breed you." He punctuated the words with a particularly brutal thrust that made her cry out. "Gonna give you everything—every drop."
He shifted, hooking her legs over his shoulders, leaning forward until she was folded beneath him.
The position let him sink impossibly deeper, the head of his cock kissing her cervix with every slam.
💖Vermouth's hands flew to his biceps, nails digging crescents into his skin.
"Fuck—right there—gonna break me—" she whimpered, tears spilling down her temples.
"That's the plan," he growled, hips snapping faster.
The bed creaked ominously; the room smelled of sex and sweat and the faint smoke still clinging to his skin. He watched her face—flushed, wrecked, utterly submissive under him—and felt his own control fraying.
Her second climax built slower, coiling tight in her belly.
💖Takuya felt it in the way her walls fluttered, heard it in the pitch of her moans climbing higher. He ground against her clit with every thrust, relentless.
"Come again, Sharon. Milk me—show me how bad you want my cum."
She shattered. "YES—cumming—cumming so hard—nnngh!" Her back arched off the bed, pussy clamping down like a vice, juices squirting around his pistoning cock.
💕 SQUIRT! 💕
Takuya groaned, the pressure exquisite, but held back, riding her through the waves until she collapsed, trembling.
He eased her legs down, letting them wrap around his waist, and slowed to a deep, grinding roll.
💖Vermouth's eyes were glassy, lips swollen, but she managed a shaky smile. "Still not done? Thought you'd fill me by now…"
"Greedy," he teased, nipping her jaw. "One more. Want you mindless when I breed you."
He flipped them suddenly—she gasped as her world spun—until she straddled him, impaled on his cock.
But he didn't let her ride. Instead, he gripped her hips and thrust up, using her body like a toy, bouncing her on his length.
💕PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!💕
Her breasts jiggled hypnotically; he latched onto one, sucking hard while his thumb tormented the other nipple.
Vermouth's head fell back, silver hair cascading down her spine. "Oh god—Takuya—too deep—gonna—" Her voice dissolved into whimpers, hands braced on his chest for balance.
💖He sat up abruptly, wrapping arms around her waist, and flipped her onto her back again without breaking rhythm.
Now he loomed over her, full weight pressing her into the mattress, cock dragging along every sensitive inch inside her.
The intimacy was overwhelming—chest to chest, breath mingling, his possessive gaze locked on hers.
"Third time's the charm," he murmured against her lips. "Cum with me, Sharon. Let me feel you fall apart while I flood this pussy."
💖He hammered into her, hips a blur, the slap of skin deafening. Vermouth's legs locked around his back, heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper. Her moans turned to sobs of pleasure, tears streaming freely.
"Can't—can't hold—Takuya—please—"
"Now," he commanded, voice breaking on a groan. "Cum—now—"
The orgasm ripped through her like lightning. Vermouth screamed—"TAKUYA—FUCK—I'M CUMMING—AAAHHH!"
💕 SQUIRT! SQUIRT! 💕
Her pussy convulsed, milking him in rhythmic pulses, body arching so violently he had to pin her down. The sight—her flushed face, rolling eyes, bouncing breasts, the way her walls fluttered—pushed him over.
With a guttural roar, Takuya buried himself to the root and came.
💕 SPURT! SPURT! 💕
Hot spurts painted her insides, pulse after pulse, filling her until it leaked around his cock. "Take it—take every drop—mine—" he snarled, hips jerking with each release.
💖Vermouth's climax stretched on, fed by the heat flooding her, until she collapsed beneath him, trembling legs sliding from his waist, pussy twitching in aftershocks. Takuya stayed buried deep, grinding lazily, drawing out the last shivers.
Finally, he eased out with a wet sound, a thick rivulet of cum following.
💖Vermouth lay sprawled, chest heaving, silver hair a wild halo, skin glowing with sweat and satisfaction. He collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms, both of them spent and sated.
Outside, sirens still wailed faintly; inside, only their ragged breathing remained. Vermouth turned her face into his neck, lips brushing his pulse. "You kept your promise," she whispered, voice hoarse. "Now I'm keeping mine."
Takuya pressed a kiss to her temple, possessive and tender. "Good girl."
The afterglow barely had time to settle before Takuya's hunger flared again.
Vermouth lay boneless in his arms, pussy still twitching around the emptiness he'd left, thick rivulets of his first load seeping onto the sheets in slow, obscene trails.
Her silver hair clung to her damp temples; her breasts rose and fell with ragged breaths.
She looked wrecked—lips swollen, eyes half-lidded, skin flushed from collarbone to thighs—and utterly irresistible.
Takuya rolled her onto her back, spreading her thighs with rough hands. "Not done, Sharon," he murmured, voice gravel and smoke. "Promised you a night you'd never forget. We've got two hours until dawn."
Vermouth's laugh was breathless, wicked. "Greedy bastard—ahh~!" The sound cut off as he slid back inside her in one slick thrust, her cum-filled pussy welcoming him with a wet squelch.
He started missionary again, but slower this time—deep, grinding rolls that stirred his seed inside her, the head of his cock kissing her cervix on every downstroke.
### Missionary – Round Two
He hooked her knees over his elbows, folding her nearly in half. The angle let him watch every expression: the way her eyes rolled back when he bottomed out, the way her lips parted on silent screams.
Sweat dripped from his chest onto her breasts; he licked it off one nipple, then the other, sucking until they throbbed cherry-red.
"Feel that?" he growled, hips snapping forward. "My cum painting your walls. Gonna add more—keep you plugged and dripping."
Vermouth's nails raked his back. "Yes—fill me—breed me—nngh!" Each thrust punched the air from her lungs; her breasts bounced wildly, slapping against her ribcage.
The bedframe groaned in protest, headboard thumping the wall in a steady, obscene rhythm.
He kissed her—messy, saliva-dripping, tongues tangling as he pounded harder. Her moans vibrated into his mouth: "Mmmph—Takuya—deeper—fuck—" Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
Her second orgasm of the round hit suddenly. "Cumming—again—aaah~!" Pussy spasming, she squirted around his cock, juices mixing with the cum already inside her.
Takuya groaned, hips stuttering, but he pulled out just before release, painting her belly and breasts in thick, pearly ropes. Vermouth whimpered at the loss, thighs trembling.
### Transition to Doggy
He flipped her onto her stomach, yanking her hips up until she was on all fours. Cum smeared across her skin, dripping from her pussy in sticky strings. Takuya slapped her ass—once, twice—watching the flesh jiggle and redden.
"Ass up, Sharon. Show me that pretty cunt."
She obeyed, arching her back, presenting herself like an offering.
He gripped her hips and slammed home. The new angle let him go deeper; the head of his cock battered her front wall with every brutal thrust.
Vermouth's face pressed into the pillow, muffling her screams.
"Fuck—yes—pound me—ruin me—" Her voice broke on each word, body rocking forward with the force.
💕PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!💕
Her breasts swung beneath her, nipples grazing the sheets, sending sparks up her spine.
Takuya reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight, merciless circles. "Gonna make you squirt again. Want the sheets soaked."
She did—spectacularly. "TAKUYA—COMING—AAAHHH!" Her pussy clenched like a fist, gushing over his balls, down her thighs.
He kept fucking her through it, the wet slap of skin deafening, until her arms gave out and she collapsed face-first into the mattress.
He followed her down, chest to her back, still buried deep. One arm snaked under her to pinch a nipple; the other held her hip as he rutted like an animal. "Mine," he snarled against her ear. "Every hole, every drop—mine."
Vermouth could only whimper, oversensitive and trembling.
💕 SPURT! SPURT! 💕
He came with a roar, flooding her again, the excess bubbling out around his cock with every pulse.
### Spooning – Intimate and Lazy
Takuya rolled them onto their sides, spooning her from behind.
One of her legs lifted over his hip, opening her up.
He slid back in slowly, savoring the way her walls fluttered around his sensitive length.
The position was intimate—his chest to her back, lips at her nape, one hand cupping a breast, the other splayed over her lower belly.
"Feel me here?" he whispered, pressing just above her pubic bone. "Right where I'll put our child."
Vermouth moaned, pushing back against him. "Yes—mark me inside—make me yours—" The angle was perfect for grinding; he rolled his hips in slow, deep circles, cock stirring his cum into a frothy mess.
Her clit throbbed under his fingers, swollen and slick.
They moved like that for what felt like forever—lazy thrusts building to a fever pitch.
Vermouth's moans grew breathier, more desperate. "Takuya—close—don't stop—"
He bit her shoulder, sucked a bruise into the skin. "Cum for me, love. Milk me dry."
She shattered with a soft cry, pussy rippling around him.
Takuya followed seconds later, adding another load,💕 SPURT! SPURT! 💕 the overflow leaking down her thigh in warm rivulets.
### Cowgirl – Vermouth in Control (Briefly)
Vermouth pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips.
Cum glistened on her inner thighs, her pussy puffy and red from abuse.
She sank down slowly, eyes locked on his, a wicked smile curving her lips.
"My turn," she purred, rolling her hips in a slow, torturous grind. Her breasts swayed hypnotically; she cupped them, pinching her own nipples until she gasped.
Takuya's hands gripped her ass, guiding but not controlling. "Ride me, Sharon. Use me."
She did—bouncing hard, then grinding deep, alternating until her thighs burned.
Sweat dripped from her collarbone, tracing paths between her breasts.
Takuya sat up to suckle them, teeth grazing, tongue soothing. Vermouth's head fell back, silver hair cascading like a curtain.
"Fuck—your cock—feels so good—gonna cum—" She slammed down one last time, grinding her clit against his pubic bone.
The orgasm rolled through her in waves, pussy clenching rhythmically. Takuya thrust up to meet her, spilling inside her again, the excess squirting out around his base.
### Lotus – The Breaking Point
Exhaustion crept in, but desire won.
Takuya sat cross-legged, pulling Vermouth into his lap.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and sank down onto his cock with a sigh.
The lotus position locked them together—chest to chest, foreheads touching, every breath shared.
"Last one," he murmured, kissing her softly. "Gonna fuck you until you pass out."
Vermouth laughed weakly, but it turned into a moan as he began to move.
Slow, deep thrusts, grinding up into her as she rocked down.
💕PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!💕
Their sweat-slicked skin slid together; her breasts pressed against his chest, nipples dragging with every motion.
Cum leaked steadily from where they joined, coating his balls, dripping onto the sheets.
Minutes blurred into an eternity of sensation. Takuya's hands roamed—cupping her ass, tracing her spine, tangling in her hair.
Vermouth's moans grew softer, more broken, her body trembling with overstimulation.
"Takuya—can't—too much—" Her voice slurred, eyes unfocused. Another orgasm built, slower but deeper, coiling in her core like a spring.
He kissed her—gentle at first, then desperate, swallowing her whimpers. "Let go, Sharon. I've got you."
The climax hit her like a freight train.
Vermouth's entire body seized, pussy clamping down so hard Takuya groaned. "C-cumming—forever—aaaah~—" Her eyes rolled back, limbs going limp as unconsciousness claimed her mid-orgasm, a soft, final sigh escaping her lips.
Takuya held her close, thrusting through her spasms until he came one last time, flooding her overflowing pussy.
💕 SPURT! SPURT! 💕
Cum poured out in thick streams, soaking them both. He eased her down gently, cock slipping free with a wet sound, and tucked her against his chest.
For a long moment, he simply held her—stroking her hair, kissing her forehead, whispering praise into her sweat-damp skin. "Perfect. Mine. Rest now."
He cleaned them both with a warm cloth from the bathroom, then pulled the large blanket over her exhausted form.
Vermouth didn't stir, lost to deep, sated sleep, pussy still leaking a steady trickle of his seed onto the sheets.
[R-18 Scene End]
The news still played in the background, describing ruins and politics, but in that small apartment, time seemed to stop.
When dawn began to edge its light through the curtains, Vermouth lay fast asleep. The exhaustion written across her face wasn't only physical; it was the release of years of tension, of secrets and revenge finally complete.
Takuya sat beside her, a faint smile on his lips. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
"You really are something, Sharon…" he murmured.
For the first time in a long while, he felt a strange warmth — not just victory, but connection.
He lit another cigarette and leaned back on the sofa, watching the smoke curl upward.
Another promise kept. Another woman tied to me.
He counted absently in his head — Eri Kisaki, Yukiko Kudo, and now Vermouth. Three extraordinary women, all drawn to him in their own way.
He chuckled softly.
"Why are they all older?"
It wasn't mockery, only mild amusement. Each of them was strong, intelligent, experienced — women who could stand on their own yet somehow chose to stand beside him.
But ambition never slept. As he stared at the faint light of dawn, another name crossed his mind.
Miyano Akemi…
A younger one, this time. He smiled faintly. "Yes. Maybe it's time to balance things out."
The thought wasn't lust; it was strategy, curiosity, maybe even a touch of loneliness. Whatever it was, he didn't linger on it.
Finishing his cigarette, he glanced toward Vermouth once more. She stirred slightly but didn't wake. Takuya leaned down, pulled the blanket over her shoulders, and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
"Rest, Sharon. You've earned it."
He straightened, grabbed his coat, and looked toward the door. Another day was waiting, another set of masks to wear. The Pentagon lay in ruins, the world was trembling — and somewhere in the middle of it all, Fujiwara Takuya smiled.
Because chaos, after all, was where he thrived.
✨ End of Chapter
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───