#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: tokyo revengers

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓊𝓁 ౨ৎ

haitani rindou x reader. 2.1k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ mentions of alcohol ﾉ explicit language ﾉ suggestive ending

something’s off.

rindou has been awake for no more than thirty seconds but he can tell—something’s off. there’s no dip in the mattress beside him. your warmth is absent from his hold. he can’t smell your shampoo, can’t feel the plush of your skin beneath his fingers. your spot is empty and cold. you’re gone.

he shoots up into a sitting position, fingernails digging into the threads of the sheets, strands of lavender hair sticking to the beads of sweat on his forehead. the sudden jolt sends a piercing throb through his skull.

“ah, fucking hell,” he swears, a hand coming up to hold his head. he squeezes his eyes shut and snarls at the uncomfortable sensation. every pound that strikes his cranium is heavy and loud as if they are beats of a drum. why is his head throbbing?

“are you okay?”

soles of slippers drag against the carpet, the soft sound accompanying that of your voice. it’s loud enough for rindou to hear but quiet enough so as to not aggravate his ailment. his pulsating headache persists but hearing your voice gives him a different sense of relief.

“where’d you go?” he ignores your question, choosing to ask one of his own. rindou drags his eyes up from his lap to meet yours.

“the store,” you wave the plastic bag out in front of you as you make your way to join him on the bed. stepping out of your slippers, you take a seat on the mattress at rindou’s feet, tucking your own beneath your thighs so you are sitting cross-legged. “had to pick up a few things.”

“i told you that i don’t like you leaving without telling me.”

his statement comes off as possessive and overbearing, but you know that it’s far from it—in fact, you consider it to be the opposite. though it may not seem like it to outsiders, rindou’s insistence on knowing where you are at all times stems from a place of love; it’s his way of protecting you. your known association with rindou makes you a target for enemies of bonten—and they have plenty. he worries for your safety and in an attempt to not bombard you with security details, rindou’s one ask is that you keep him informed on where you travel without him.

“would you rather i have woken you up?” you ask, picking out the items from the bag and setting them beside you. you hadn’t planned on going to the store but it was clear that you needed to pick up a few things, all of which were for rindou. pain relievers, a green smoothie, and honey graham crackers because you know he prefers them over the saltine ones.

“yes, actually.” he runs a hand over his forehead to brush all of the hair pasted there away.

you smile at his bluntness. in the time you’ve been with rindou, you’ve grown familiar with his direct way of speaking; you’d even go as far as to say that you enjoy it. you never have to wonder what’s on his mind when he speaks so freely.

your nimble fingers work at opening the cardboard box housing the crackers. you grab a sleeve, tear the plastic, and carefully pull out one of the brown rectangles. you hold it out to rindou as a form of apology. “i’m sorry. i just thought you could use all the sleep you could get after last night.”

“about that,” he says, accepting the snack from your hand. he takes a bite from the corner. crumbs fall from his mouth down to the sheet covering his legs but he can’t be bothered to clean up the mess. “what exactly did i get into?”

rindou is having a hard time recollecting the events of the previous night. if you asked him how he spent the rest of his day after work, he wouldn’t be able to tell you much. one thing he is sure of, though, is that he and most of the executives of bonten went out to celebrate a successful arms deal. everything after that is fuzzy.

“mm,” you hum, stealing one of the crackers to take for yourself. you mimic his actions, biting a small piece off from the corner and chewing thoughtfully. “i’m not too sure. ran called me saying that you were drunk off your ass and kept asking for me. so i went and picked you up from the bar.”

he swallows thickly, your words sparking recognition within him. most of it is still unclear, but rindou can piece together a vague picture.

“c'mon, rindou, don’t be a pussy.” sanzu sang from across the man while holding out another shot.

he ignored the glass, opting to flick his pink-haired associate off instead.

“what’s the matter? you lost your touch or something?” koko spoke up from beside him, throwing back a shot of his own. a grin pulled at his lips as he narrowly eyed rindou.

rindou scoffed, practically snatching the drink from sanzu and taking it down in one motion. he turned to koko with a smirk of his own. “fuck you.”

the seemingly never-ending drinks continued to pile on for the remainder of the night. rindou prides himself on having a heavy tolerance, and he does for the most part, but as memories of him calling out for you flooded his brain, it was clear that he had overdone it. not once before last night could he recall a time when he’d gotten so drunk that he was virtually begging to see you.

your lips curl upward at his silence. it’s not often that you find yourself in a position where you hold something over his head. after the events of last night and his uncharacteristic behavior, it would be a waste not to poke some fun at him.

“y'know,” you start, reaching for the pack of hangover relief pills. “i could barely drive home because you kept trying to climb over the console.”

a smirk lingers on your lips as you tear open the small package and shake the medicine out into your hand. you hum and point to rindou’s closed fist resting on his thigh. he catches on quickly, turning his hand over to receive your offer. the tablets drop from your fingers into his open palm.

“i didn’t do that.” rindou denies, tossing the pills into his mouth and promptly swallowing. his throat is parched and he wants to blame it on the fact that he had just taken pills without water but in reality, it’s because the information resurfacing is difficult for him to believe.

“okay, maybe that was an exaggeration,” you laugh. his adamant rejection of your claim only makes you want to tease him even more. “but you’re totally a clingy drunk.”

lilac eyebrows furrow as rindou thinks back to the ride home from the bar.

“rin, cut it out or i’ll crash the car.” you quickly slapped his wandering hand away before returning yours to the steering wheel.

a loud, whiney groan filled the otherwise silence of the car. “why don’t you want to hold my hand?” you glanced over to see rindou’s head rolling back and hitting the headrest of his seat. his eyes were squeezed shut but it was clear that he was frowning at your refusal of affection.

you bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a giggle. was this the same stoic man you had come to know? it looked like a shot too much was all it took to turn him into a nearly unrecognizable and touchy variant of your boyfriend. “i do, but we have to do it when we get home. i have to drive now.”

rindou turned to you with narrowed eyes but there was an uncontrollable grin of excitement tugging at his lips. “promise?” he asked.

you nodded. “i swear.”

as if it weren’t bad enough that you reminded him of that awkward conversation, rindou is beginning to piece together the moments afterward, specifically, when you pulled into the parking garage. if he looked down at his hand, he’s sure he’d be able to feel the ironclad grip he had on you as soon as you two got out of the car. the thought sends a shiver down his spine.

“i am not clingy.” he shakes his head, partly to disagree with your words but also to rid himself of the embarrassing memories.

“hmm, maybe not.” you play along although you have a clear recollection of last night. you figure that his denial must stem from a place of pride because if he had been in your shoes, if the roles were reversed, you're positive that he’d be pestering you about how handsy you had been.

“you’re pretty dependent, though,” you continue. there’s one more interaction you’re itching to bring up. “i’d even go as far as saying needy.”

rindou falls back to lie on his pillow. he has a feeling your statement only means more humiliation for him. despite that, he can’t ignore the tiny bit of curiosity that’s nagging at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

a knowing smile creeps its way onto your lips as you crawl to sit beside him. amethyst eyes meet yours, the brows above them raising in question. “you don’t remember me having to brush your teeth?”

“open,” you instructed rindou, poking his cheek with your index finger. he sat on the lid of the toilet, head lolling from side to side.

your simple direction went in one ear and out the other as rindou ignored your request. instead, he puckered his lips and leaned forward.

“we can do that later,” you assured him, gently pushing him back into his former position. “say ah.” you opened your mouth hoping that he would follow your example.

thankfully, he mimed your actions this time around. tipping his chin up, you began to brush his teeth. the process went smoother than the prep and the man stayed still as you cleaned each of his teeth.

“c'mon, time to spit.”

you helped him up from his seat and led him to the sink. too busy turning on the faucet, you didn’t notice rindou quickly approaching. his lips pressed to the side of your face in an open-mouthed kiss.

“rindou!” you pulled away, snatching the nearest towel to wipe the foam he left behind on your cheek and the corner of your mouth. he’s going to be the death of me, you thought as you tossed the towel into the hamper. you spun on your heel to face your drunk mess of a boyfriend. “i said later.”

“it was later.” his words came out jumbled due to the toothpaste lingering in his mouth. the froth was starting to drip down to his chin.

you sighed. “just rinse, please.”

rindou covers his face with his palms. his cheeks are burning hot; they must be visibly red. he would have been better off remaining clueless about the previous night’s activities.

“i’m never drinking again,” he said through a groan.

“aw, i thought it was cute.” you pull his hands away and flash him a smile. his rapidly beating heart calms at the sight. “but you should probably set a limit for next time. you’re kind of a handful.”

he huffs out a laugh. based on everything he pieced together and your first-hand account, “handful” is an understatement. he didn’t think it was possible for him to act in such a way but it seems that even the inconceivable was achievable.

you pat rindou’s shoulder. “you go shower while i make breakfast. unless you think you’ll need my help in there, too.” you jokingly wiggle your eyebrows.

he smirks. “are you offering?”

“god, you’re shameless.” your hand comes down to playfully smack his bare chest. you jerk your head in the direction of the bathroom. “go.”

you make a move to get off the bed and start toward the kitchen, but rindou catches your hand before you can leave. you look at your joined hands and then to him. a glint of mischief passes through his wisteria eyes. “are you really going to make your clingy, needy, handful of a boyfriend shower all alone?”

the flustered rindou who might as well have been wishing the earth would swallow him whole only minutes ago is nowhere in sight. as cute as that unexpectedly soft and affectionate version of your boyfriend was, you’d be lying if you said you preferred it over the side you’d grown accustomed to.

“fine.” you click your tongue. a beat of silence passes before you accusingly point your finger at him. “but i’m not doing all the work like last night.”

rindou drops your hand, opting to hold your cheek instead. “of course you aren’t. i’m going to make it up to you.”

thanks for giving this a read! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :3

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 ౨ৎ

haitani rindou x reader. 1.3k w.c. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au-ish :3 ﾉ just some rindou lovin' ﾉ repost!

it’s been a while since you've been out with your friends. can you really call them that, though? they are classmates at the very least, ones that feel compelled to invite you to their gatherings. it’s thoughtful, you’ll give them that, but part of you wishes they didn’t. maybe the outing is just boring or maybe they have all grown dull, but either way, it’s easy to zone out in their presence. their chatter seems distant. you don’t even really know what they’re talking about—something regarding everyone’s plans for this saturday.

“what about you?” the girl beside you nudges your ribs to gain your attention—and it works. the jab is surprisingly painful given how small she is. “can you make it?”

“sorry, i already have plans with someone else.”

“aww,” she whines at your answer, “who are you hanging out with? maybe they can tag along.”

“rindou.”

all the idle chatter at the table stops upon the mere utterance of his name. suddenly, all eyes are on you. he’s popular, but not for the right reasons. not many people are fond of him. and you never minded that, but the people who dislike him don’t just dislike him; they’re afraid of him. so although you have no problem associating yourself with him, you’ve learned quickly that bringing him up around others often leads to unsavory reactions. you slipped up at this moment.

“you mean… haitani rindou?”

“mhm.” you’re aware of the common consensus when it comes to rindou and what people think of him, but you want to test the waters and see how your peers perceive him. “why? what’s wrong with him?”

the replies flood in like a tsunami.

“he only hangs out with his brother and you know how much trouble ran is.”

“yeah, they’re total scumbags. i’m pretty sure they’ve almost gotten arrested—and on multiple occasions at that.”

“you’re perfectly capable of surrounding yourself with better company. why on earth would you want to be seen with him?”

“that’s really none of your concern.” the last comment strikes a nerve and causes you to raise your voice. shocked eyes accompanied by gaping mouths stare at you in surprise. you don’t know why you expected their responses to be any different. everyone jumps to the same conclusion and they aren’t an exception. their feelings about him are crystal clear. if they think so poorly of him, they have no place in your life. “and i’d rather not talk to you guys if you’re going to continue to speak about him like that. i’m leaving now.”

and with that, you stand up, collect your things, and start on your way home.

• • •

rindou is in the kitchen when you walk through the door. a head of blonde hair sits at the small table, slurping up ramen noodles. the steam wafting from the bowl leaves the lenses of his gold-framed glasses foggy. your keys clatter when they meet the ceramic of the dish that holds little things like chapstick and mini box cutters. the noise grabs rindou’s attention, his gaze abandoning his food in favor of looking at your figure that approaches to take a seat next to him. he didn’t think he would see you back so soon; it felt like you had just left. but he doesn’t say a word, instead, offering you the noodles hanging from his chopsticks. you lean forward to accept the mouthful of spicy ramen. every other bite of what remains in the bowl is reserved for you.

you stay attached to his hip for the rest of the day; helping him wash the dishes even though it’s your least favorite chore, sitting in his lap and snuggling into his neck as he boots up his computer to play who knows what game with his friends—you even go as far as getting comfortable on the lid of the toilet while he takes his shower for the night. it isn’t unusual for you to take care of his hair once he emerges from the steamy room, combing out the tangled strands of blonde and blue before pulling out the hair dryer. after the locks are fluffy and dry, his hair sits in a neat bun on the top of his head. the only pieces that escape are the ones not quite long enough to be tied up with the rest.

you wonder if your actions came off as overbearing; not that you would care if they did. the conversation from earlier reminded you of how poorly people regarded your boyfriend. someone has to love him when everyone else thinks so little of him, and you’re more than happy to be that person.

and you’re content at the moment, practically lying on top of him, your fingers tracing each curve of the black ink tattooed into his skin. you can feel the thumping of his heart, hear the rhythmic beat of it in your ear.

“what’s wrong?” rindou speaks up out of the blue. so then he had noticed the shift in your behavior.

“what do you mean?” you feign ignorance. you know rindou was fully aware of his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to shield him from the harshness of others.

“you’re even clingier than usual.”

“i’m not clingy,” you mumble against his chest.

“mm, yeah, you are.” he pinches your cheek that isn’t pressed against him. it doesn’t hurt but you look up at him regardless. lilac eyes peer down at you. the blank expression on his face may not show it, but his gaze is enough to tell you that he’s concerned. “are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

rindou isn’t the type to push you, to make you tell him something you aren’t ready to tell. if you told him you didn’t want to talk about it, you were sure he’d let it go. but since it’s weighing so heavily on your mind, maybe it is best to share. “i brought your name up in front of some classmates and they said some pretty rude stuff about you.”

he snorts as if what you were worried about was silly. and to him, it is. it doesn’t bother him—the wandering eyes, the hushed whispers, the anxious avoidance. everything that you seem to be hyperaware of is the norm for rindou. and he can understand why it upsets you, he wouldn’t want people speaking ill of you, but he’s accustomed to his bad reputation. “i thought i told you not to let stuff like that get to you. you know i don’t give a shit about what people think.”

“well, i do.” maybe you shouldn’t, not to the extent you do, anyway. but after getting to know rindou, the real rindou, you can’t help but feel offended when people reduce him to nothing more than a no-good criminal. sure, he isn’t a saint, but he’s far from evil. what gave them the right to form opinions when they only got a glimpse of one side of him? “they shouldn’t get to judge you if they don’t even know you.”

he lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh, the breath heaving from his chest causing your head to raise. though, not long after, his lips find their way to your hairline, pressing a light kiss to the skin. his hand runs up and down your arm, “it doesn’t matter how often i tell you, huh?”

“nope.” you shamelessly reply. you’ll never stand for people demeaning the man you’ve come to love.

“how stubborn,” he clicks his tongue. it’s clear that this was a matter he won’t be able to change your mind on. of course, he doesn’t care what people think about him, but seeing you so protective of him and his image is oddly endearing. “so what, are you my defender or something?”

“mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes drift shut, “now and always.”

thanks for reading! pls consider reblogging or commenting if u enjoyed :3

[seoulmatez]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒟𝐼𝒩𝒩𝐸𝑅 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ haitani ran x f!reader. 1.7k wc. nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ established relationship ﾉ teasing ﾉ fingering ﾉ oral (f!receiving) ﾉ mentions of creampie  

if you were in your old apartment, one of your neighbors would have been banging on your door with a noise complaint by now. it’s one of the many perks of living with bonten’s haitani ran; his penthouse allows you to live without the concern of angry neighbors berating you for attempting to find joy in your daily tasks. you would make a list of all the other benefits if you weren’t too busy sliding around the kitchen in your socks and using the spatula as a makeshift microphone.

the bluetooth speaker sitting on the edge of the counter farthest from the food you’re cooking blares a song from the random playlist you had put on some time ago when you began to prepare dinner. as much as you love your new home, you have to admit; the silence that blankets the apartment while ran is away can be suffocating. you’d much rather have him home with you but your musical performances can tide you over until he finishes things up at work.

a lyric you can never resist singing approaches, gluing your feet to the spot in front of the stove as you ready to belt it out. you’re in the middle of hitting a note when a pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you back so that you’re flush with his chest. you don’t have to turn your head to tell it’s ran. “you, my dear, have the voice of an angel.”

“someone’s out for brownie points,” you joke through a giggle. even though you haven’t faced any complaints regarding your loud music, maybe you should consider lowering the volume just a bit. you didn’t hear the automated ring of the lock signaling ran’s arrival. hell, you couldn’t even hear him coming towards you.

“me? never.” he shakes his head but a knowing smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. his chin comes to rest on your shoulder and you can see the two tones of his short, styled hair. it was neatly gelled this morning but now, a few strands stray from the coiffed majority. he must have been running his hands through it all day. 

a deep, thoughtful hum vibrates the junction between your neck and shoulder, effectively gaining your attention. “what’s with all the clothes under this apron?”

you snort. what he’s getting at is clear but you feel the need to kid with him first. “that’s kind of the point of an apron—to protect the clothes you’re wearing beneath it.”

“i suppose,” he sighs, the breath of air wafting past your ear and sending a chill down your spine. “although, i do think you’d look a lot better without these.” he tugs on the hem of your cropped top and waistband of your thin lounge shorts. they slap against your skin with a resounding snap, pulling a surprised squeak up from your throat.

you’d be lying if you said ran’s ministrations and sugared words didn’t turn you on, but he could wait until after dinner was ready if his plan was to get you all hot and bothered. “you’re so shameless.”

“don’t worry, though,” he continues, ignoring your statement. you feel the neat bow tied behind your back significantly loosen. the strings of your apron brush against the bare skin of your legs as heavy hands find a home on your hips to spin you around. ran smiles and the corners of his violet eyes crinkle. “we can fix that easily.”

he pulls the apron over your head, discarding it on the island behind him. in one fluid movement, his hands grip your thighs to lift you onto the counter. the surface is cool beneath your skin and you fail to hold back a gasp at the contact. your parted lips give him the perfect opportunity to lean forward and capture them in a kiss. it’s a hungry clash of teeth and mingling of tongues that sends heat directly down to your core. even when ran pulls away, a string of saliva keeps the two of you connected. “mm, i’ve been thinking about kissing those pretty lips all day.”

you grin at the thought of being on his mind when you’re apart from each other. a sense of pride swells in your heart knowing that you mean so much to him. you’re not able to appreciate it for long before his mouth is on yours again. wandering hands make their way up to grope at your breasts. nimble fingers sneak their way under the hem of your top, pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks. the rough sensation draws a whimper up from your throat. ran’s chuckle rumbles against your lips.

“alright, alright, i’ll stop teasing.” his voice is breathy as he pulls away from you. heavy hands fall from your tits but he makes no move to pull your shirt back into place—he’d rather leave them out on display. instead, his hands bunch up the smooth fabric of your shorts. ran’s thumb taps at your thigh. “lift your hips up for me, yeah?”

you follow his command, steadying yourself on the counter before raising your pelvis. he smiles at your quick obedience, dragging both your satin shorts and panties down the length of your legs and casting them away to a pile on the floor. he, too, lowers to the floor, propping himself up on his knees.

from this position, he’s got the perfect view of your pussy. he licks his lips and whispers, “gorgeous.” his lips curl up in a smirk, eyes still trained on your cunt. “and so wet. you must have been thinking about me, too, huh?”

you nod, exhaling a heavy breath as deft fingers run up and down the slit of your puffy folds. his movements are deliberate, slow and calculated. it’s only when he’s ready that you feel one finger prodding at your entrance, ever so slowly sinking deeper and deeper into you until you can feel the cold metal of his ring against your heat. he doesn’t give you time to adjust to the chill before he’s dragging his finger out of your gummy walls just as leisurely as it entered. the lazy pumping continues and you’re sure he’s enjoying himself; if the smile tugging at his lips is any evidence. you, however, are frustrated. you try your best not to squirm as you speak. “more.”

“hm? more what?” he finally looks up to meet your eyes. there’s a teasing sparkle in his lilac irises, one that urges you to elaborate. and you know you should, otherwise, you’ll never get what you want.

“another finger,” you whine. “‘n faster, please.”

he huffs out a laugh through his nose. “as you wish.”

ran’s a man of his word, plunging another lithe finger into the warmth of your cunt. you suck in a shaky gasp at the uncharacteristically fast intrusion—although it satisfies you, fills you up like you had hoped it would. and, just as he promised, ran picks up the pace. the relaxed speed becomes one that’s more erratic, desperate even. with the curl of his fingers, he reaches the spot he was just short of hitting earlier, the one he knows works you up.

“f-fuck!” you choke out. your exclamation brings a grin to ran’s face. you never fail to give him the exact reaction he’s looking for. but—and he’s not afraid to admit this—he’s greedy. he wants, no, needs more. he’s sure you’re willing to give and he’s more than happy to take.

still knuckles-deep in your cunt, ran dips his head down to leave a soft kiss on the bud of nerves settled at your apex. you twitch beneath his lips and the man takes it as a sign to continue. his tongue pokes out, wet and pointed, to circle the sensitive pearl. your thighs tense tighter and tighter with each swirl and the knot in your tummy grows taut, threatening to snap at any moment.

ran easily takes notice of your impending orgasm. one final push is all it will take to send you over the edge and he knows exactly what will do the trick. you’ve done so well for him, of course he’ll reward you for being good. he bites back a laugh before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit to suck at it—once, twice, thrice, until your back is arching and your eyes are rolling into your skull.

a wave of pure bliss washes over you but your cries of pleasure are overpowered by the jolting blare of the fire alarm. you don’t have a single second to wind down from your orgasm before ran pulls away from you, drags his fingers out of you, to deal with the situation on the stove. you’re left a shaking, sweaty mess perched atop the granite counters.

with his clean hand, ran easily turns off the burner and removes the pan of ruined food from the heat. the fingers covered in your essence make their way up to his mouth while he examines what was meant to be tonight’s meal. you watch as he casually cleans the indication of your arousal off of his hand. “well,” he pulls his fingers out with an exaggerated pop, “that’s beyond help.”

his show sends yet another wave of excitement straight to your core. the bulge pressing against the front of his tailored pants is no help either, creating an outline that’s practically screaming ’look at me!��. all you can think about is ran between your legs, his cock buried in you, and the warmth of his release painting your walls. you tilt your head back and let out a breathy sigh. “shit.”

“no need to fret,” ran assures you with a knowing smile. “i’m sure that restaurant you like can fit me in for a last-minute reservation.”

the veiled innuendo is cause for a pout. you and him both know that dinner is the last thing on your mind.

heyoooo, it's sua :3 thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ HOOKED — hanma shuji x reader. fluff. college au. delinquent!hanma.

note: this is my first attempt at writing hanma so please bear with me while i figure out his characterization :p ♡

a plastic bag filled with dog food and a variety of pet toys swings at your side as you walk down one of the less busy streets of shibuya, an umbrella held up in your opposite hand to shield you from the downfall of rain. you turn down another street lit by bright, colorful lights that will lead you to the alley you’ve found yourself visiting regularly for the past couple of weeks. it’s coming up now but before you allow yourself to round the corner, you hear rustling coming from the narrow passageway.

keeping your distance, you peek around the building to silently investigate the noise. you hope it’s just the puppy you’ve been stopping by each night after work to see but there’s a much larger, human figure looming over the box the stray was left in. the fingers grasping your umbrella twitch as you hold back the urge to confront the stranger. and you’re glad that you hesitate for two reasons.

one being that it seems that the person means the puppy no harm. from what you can make out, they’re setting up a makeshift dog house using some of the discarded cardboard to keep the helpless animal from getting wet—not an action worth interrupting.

though, the second reason is what really keeps you frozen to your spot. even in the dimly lit alley, you recognize the light blonde streak of hair hanging in front of the man’s face, strands stuck together and dripping drops of water into the puddles beneath him. it’s hanma shuji.

you’ve heard enough rumors to know he isn’t good news. despite the underlying tones of affection in his act, you don’t trust that his kindness will extend to you. you’re contemplating walking around the block and returning when he’s taken his leave but before you have the chance to, a golden gaze is burning a hole in you.

your heart jumps in your chest under the intensity of his stare. hanma’s lips curl up into a grin, one that could be considered friendly if you were ignorant of his dangerous lifestyle. you aren’t though, and the smile gives you the impression that he’s found something—someone—he has interest in playing with.

“here for this little lady, i assume?” he asks, grin still pulling at his lips as he jerks his head in the direction of the box. your eyes flit over there momentarily to catch sight of the puppy curled up in a ball with her eyes closed before they dart back to hanma. he’s still crouched down near the ground and doesn’t look as though he plans on moving. you gawk at him for a little while longer before realizing you hadn’t answered his question.

“yeah, sorry.” the apology falls past your lips as you take a cautious step into the alley. “i didn’t realize anyone else came here.”

hanma hums. “i don’t. i was just feeling unusually benevolent today.”

his statement isn’t very comforting but you nod in understanding anyway, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. you wish you knew why he was hanging around, why his gaze continues to bore into you. you feel like a specimen under a microscope being examined by his honey eyes.

his eyes narrow but a grin lingers on his lips. “i know you.”

it’s not a question, it’s a statement. his words make your skin prickle; you didn’t think he would recognize you, much less care to point it out. the worst part is that you aren’t sure whether his familiarity is a good or a bad thing. you shift your weight between your heels and clear your throat. “really?”

“i never forget a pretty face,” hanma tells you, lithe fingers toying with the curly tufts of fur on the puppy’s head. both his declaration and his gentle gesture unknowingly lower your guard. you breathe out a clumsy, awkward laugh at his vocalization, the hand at your side fiddling with the hem of your sweater. out of all the things he could have said, you never would have guessed it would be that.

“um, well, thanks,” you stiffly acknowledge his compliment and try your best to ignore the gradually growing heat in your cheeks. your reaction startles you—you shouldn’t be so easily flustered over a little silly flattery, and especially when hanma shuji is the one showering you with it. besides, you didn’t come here to be on the receiving end of some flirting. “i’d love to talk more but i should probably get the puppy inside.”

“of course.” he nods, finally standing up from his crouched position and taking a step back. a few minutes ago, you would have been nervous to approach him—be in such close proximity with such an intimidating guy—but as far as you’re concerned, hanma’s actions thus far have proven to be harmless. so, you close the gap between you, taking his previous spot near the ground so that you can pick up the puppy. you carefully scoop the dog up in your arm, holding her close to your chest as you come to stand. 

hanma hasn’t moved and his eyes have yet to leave your figure. the best option now would be to tell him goodbye and hope that any future encounters of yours are confined to the campus but, it seems as though being in hanma’s bubble has exposed you to his impulsive influence. it’s a bad idea, you’re sure of it, but before you can even think about what you’re doing, the invitation is already in the air. “do you want to come dry off? my place isn’t far from here.”

hanma’s eyebrows raise, if only slightly, at your unexpected suggestion. you had been so wary of him just a moment ago and while hanma was trying to break down your defensive walls, he wasn’t sure it would take such little effort. it would be a waste for him not to take you up on your offer.

he smiles, beads of water dripping off the ends of his hair. “lead the way.”

you never imagined walking to your apartment with hanma in tow would end up being part of your night. despite being the one to have made the friendly proposal, you have no idea what to say. so a heavy silence blankets the two of you, hanma taking hold of your umbrella so you can comfortably cradle the shivering puppy in your arms. you keep your eyes forward most of the way but you’d be lying if said you didn’t feel hanma’s gaze locking on to you every now and then. strangely enough, it doesn’t make you as anxious as it had earlier.

by the time you make it to your apartment, any reluctance you once had to be around hanma has faded. you let him in easily and kick your shoes off as though you’re welcoming an old friend into your home. you turn to him. “wait here, i’ll bring you a towel.”

after quickly settling the puppy in your room, you rush to your linen closet and grab the first towel within your reach. when you return to the entryway, hanma is in the very spot you left him, hands stuffed in his pockets and a bored expression on his face. though, when he catches sight of you, his grin is restored. and instead of your heart jumping in fear, it flutters in your chest at the sight.

you muster up a smile of your own as you step forward to hand him the towel. his grin widens upon taking it and he mutters a quiet “cute” under his breath while he unfolds the fabric to dry off his hair. you initially think he’s talking about your smile until you see the towel on his head—brightly colored and printed with flowers. 

you would be embarrassed if the scene playing out before you wasn’t so endearing. something about seeing someone regarded as so harsh and cold covered in something that embodied the opposite puts a genuine smile on your face. it’s much too soon to say, but maybe there’s another side to hanma—a softer one that he isn’t so keen on sharing with everyone. 

as you watch him towel off, you decide that you want to stick around long enough to see if you’re one of the few people that hanma will let in. 

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[seoulmatez]

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