#Manjiro Sano x Reader

[missmadella]

„You challenge them to a One-on-One.” //Tokyo Revengers

Charakters: Mikey, Sanzu, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, Ran, Rindou, Kazutora, Izana, Kokonoi, Hanma, Wakasa

Synopsis: You’re not one to back down — especially not when it comes to proving yourself to the one you care about. So when you challenge them to a one-on-one fight, it’s not just about winning or losing. It’s about showing you’re strong enough to stand beside them, to be more than just someone they protect.

CW: Mild sparring, gentle kisses, and a lot of heart.

Mikey (Manjiro Sano):

The air in the Toman training grounds was thick with heat, tension, and… a little disbelief.

“You want to fight me?” Mikey asked, one eyebrow raised, the corners of his lips twitching upward into a grin.

You stood your ground, rolling your shoulders back and nodding. “One-on-one. No holding back. I want to see how long I can last.”

He blinked slowly, tilting his head as if he were studying a puzzle. “You sure about this? I don’t hold back,” he said softly, but with that mischievous glint in his eyes — the kind that only came out when something excited him.

You grinned. “That’s the point.”

The first few seconds were a blur of motion.

You dodged his initial strike — just barely. Mikey’s movements were precise, fluid, but never frantic. He wasn’t going full speed yet, and you knew it. Still, it took every ounce of focus just to stay on your feet.

“You’re quicker than before,” he commented, stepping aside as your foot swept the dirt where he stood a heartbeat ago.

“I’ve been training,” you said between breaths. “Maybe I’ll finally wipe that cocky smirk off your face.”

Mikey chuckled. “Talk big, babe. Let’s see you back it up.”

He came at you harder. You blocked the next kick, but it rattled your bones. Your arms stung. Still, you pushed forward, trying to fake left and slip under his guard. It worked — for a moment. Your fist grazed his cheek.

That stopped him. Just briefly.

And then he grinned wide, eyes glowing with rare, electric joy. “You actually hit me. Okay then,” he whispered.

You never stood a chance after that.

The world spun, your back hit the ground with a thud, and the sky above you blurred from the force of the fall. The air rushed out of your lungs, and you gasped, blinking rapidly — your body screaming, but your pride burning just a little brighter.

A shadow loomed over you.

Then, with no hesitation, Mikey crouched and scooped you up in one smooth motion — lifting you into a bridal carry with ridiculous ease, like you weighed nothing.

You groaned, your head resting on his shoulder. “Ugh… okay. That was so unfair.”

“You said no holding back,” he replied, voice low and smug but fond.

You pouted. “Yeah, well… I lasted longer than ever before.”

Mikey glanced down at you — your flushed cheeks, the stubborn sparkle in your eyes, the slight bruise already forming on your jaw — and his grin softened.

“Yeah,” he said. “You really did.”

Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you — slow and deep, the kind of kiss that made your aching body feel like it was floating again.

When he pulled back, you blinked up at him and mumbled, “I want dorayaki.”

Mikey blinked. Then laughed — actually laughed, a short, sweet sound that made your heart flutter.

“All that just for snacks?” he teased.

You smirked. “Hey, I earned it.”

He leaned down again, brushing his nose against yours, voice low and warm against your lips. “Everything for you, princess.”

And as he carried you off the field, you swore the soreness was worth it.

Every bruise, every ache — worth it for that smile.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Sanzu Haruchiyo:

The rooftop was quiet — for now. Evening wind tousled your hair, carrying with it the distant hum of motorcycles and the smell of concrete dust.

Sanzu leaned lazily against the railing, arms crossed, candy stick bobbing between his teeth. He watched you with an amused tilt to his head — like you were something shiny and strange.

“You’re joking,” he said finally, grinning. “You seriously wanna fight me?”

You stepped closer, cracking your knuckles. “Not joking. One-on-one. No weapons. Let’s go.”

He let out a soft laugh — the kind that always made your skin prickle. “You’re adorable when you’re self-destructive.”

You gave him a look. “Scared?”

That made his smile widen — too wide. He stepped away from the railing, rolled his neck with a pop, and dropped the candy stick from his mouth. His eyes gleamed like a knife under neon.

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, “I eat scared for breakfast.”

The first strike was his — fast, chaotic, deliberate. You ducked it, your heart hammering. He moved like a blur, like a storm with a personality disorder. Graceful one second, jagged and brutal the next.

“Don’t hold back,” you said through gritted teeth, dodging another kick.

“Oh, you’ll know when I’m not,” he purred, swinging around and catching your side with his heel. You gasped, stumbling, but stayed up.

“You’ve gotten better,” he admitted. “Almost impressed.”

Almost.

You charged. He sidestepped. Grabbed your wrist, twisted, flipped you flat to your back before you even saw it coming.

The sky blinked overhead.

Your lungs wheezed.

A boot nudged your side, gentle but taunting. “Aww. Done already?”

You groaned. “Fuck you…”

Sanzu crouched beside you slowly, resting his elbow on one knee. “I mean… you could’ve just asked nicely.” He smirked, running a thumb over the bruise on your jaw like it was art.

“Crazy bastard…” you muttered.

“You knew that when you fell for me.” He didn’t ask — he stated it. Then, with a sigh that sounded entirely too pleased, he slid his arms under you and lifted you bridal style into the air.

You slapped weakly at his chest. “Sanzu. Put me down.”

“Nah,” he said, kissing your forehead. “You challenged me. You lost. You’re mine now — carried-off-by-the-winner style.”

“You’re always the winner,” you grumbled into his neck.

“Mmhm.” He smirked. “And you still keep coming back.”

You were quiet a beat, then mumbled, “I want dango…”

He stopped.

Stared down at you.

Then burst out laughing — loud, crooked, absolutely unhinged. He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice ragged with amusement.

“God, I love you,” he said. “You ask for dango like you didn’t just try to punch me in the face.”

You smirked. “I almost got you.”

“That you did,” he whispered, brushing your lips with his — and then kissing you hard, like a reward. Like a drug.

He pulled back just enough to say:

“Anything you want, princess. Dango, chaos, the moon — it’s yours.”

And you believed him. Not because he was stable. But because he meant it.

And with Sanzu, that was the most dangerous kind of promise.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Mitsuya Takashi:

The sun filtered softly through the dojo windows, painting the floor in lazy gold streaks. You stood across from Mitsuya, hand on your hip, jaw set in stubborn defiance.

“I’m serious,” you said, eyes locked on him. “Fight me. One-on-one. No pulling punches.”

Mitsuya raised an eyebrow, toweling off the sweat from his neck. His lavender gaze swept over you — calm, unreadable, but deeply attentive.

“I’m not doing that,” he said gently.

You frowned. “Why not?”

He stepped closer, setting the towel aside. “Because I don’t need to prove anything by fighting you. And neither do you.”

Your jaw clenched. “It’s not about proving something to you, Mitsuya. It’s for me. I’ve been training nonstop. I’m stronger now. I just want—” You hesitated. “—to see if I can keep up. With you.”

There was a pause. Mitsuya’s expression softened — not with pity, but with something far more dangerous: understanding.

He reached out, cupped your cheek in one hand, thumb brushing along your jaw where a faint bruise still lingered from your last spar.

“You don’t need to bleed to be enough,” he murmured. “Not for me. Not ever.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the warmth that bloomed in your chest.

“I know,” you said. “But I want to show you what I’ve become.”

“I already see it,” he said. “Every day.”

His hand slid down to yours, fingers lacing through yours like they belonged there. Then, without another word, he bent down and scooped you into a bridal carry — not because you were hurt, not because you lost — but because you needed to be seen.

You yelped in surprise. “Mitsuya! Put me down!”

“Nope.” He smiled, walking toward the bench by the window with you in his arms. “You’ve earned a break.”

“I didn’t even get to fight!”

He set you down gently, then leaned in close, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then — finally — your lips. It was a slow, steady kiss, the kind that left you breathless but grounded at the same time.

When he pulled away, you were dazed, blinking up at him.

“…I want mitarashi dango,” you muttered.

Mitsuya chuckled, brushing your hair from your face. “That’s random.”

You shrugged. “If I can’t win a fight, I deserve at least one food reward.”

His smile widened, and he kissed you again — softer this time. “Everything for you, princess,” he murmured. “Even if all you want is dango.”

And as he stood to grab his keys, promising to be back in ten minutes, you realized…

You didn’t need to win a fight.

You’d already won him.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Chifuyu Matsuno:

The Toman hangout was quiet for once — no shouting, no bikes revving, no half-broken chairs being used as makeshift weapons. Just the sound of you stretching your arms and cracking your neck while Chifuyu scrolled his phone on the edge of a practice mat.

“Hey,” you called. “Let’s spar.”

He looked up, blinking. “Spar as in… you and me?”

You nodded, stepping into the center of the mat. “Why not? One-on-one. No holding back.”

Chifuyu laughed — that slightly raspy, surprised kind of laugh that made his shoulders shake. “Are you seriously trying to fight your boyfriend right now?”

“Scared?” you asked, smirking.

“Oh, you’re so lucky I love you,” he muttered, tossing his phone aside and standing up. “Alright, alright. But if you cry when I win, I’m buying you ice cream, not apologizing.”

You snorted. “You won’t win.”

He gave you an exaggerated bow. “Lead the way, warrior princess.”

From the first move, it was clear: Chifuyu was toying with you. Not maliciously — more like a cat playing with a laser pointer. He blocked your punches with an amused glint in his eyes and dramatic sound effects that made you want to punch him more.

“Whoa! That was almost dangerous,” he teased, ducking under your swing. “I think I felt the wind.”

“You’re gonna feel more than that—” You lunged. He caught your wrist and flipped you to the ground — gently.

You blinked at the ceiling.

“…Ow?”

Chifuyu crouched beside you, grinning. “That was adorable.”

You glared. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, then — without warning — scooped you up bridal style.

You flailed. “CHIFUYU!”

“What? You challenged me, you lost, I get to carry you like a champion claiming their prize.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Correction — I’m the worst boyfriend you’ve ever been head-over-heels for.”

You tried to pout, but the way he held you — all warm arms and smug affection — made it hard to be mad. You rested your head on his shoulder with a dramatic sigh.

“Well… I lasted longer than last time.”

“You did,” he said, kissing your forehead as he carried you to the couch. “Proud of you.”

You peeked up at him. “I want melonpan.”

He blinked. “I throw you across the mat and you ask for bread?”

“Sweet bread.”

He snorted. “You’re such a weirdo. But…” He leaned in and kissed you again, soft and smiling against your mouth.

“Anything for you, fighter girl.”

You lost the match.

But you won the moment.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Ran Haitani:

The rooftop was still warm from the sun, the city humming quietly beneath you. Ran twirled his baton between his fingers like he was bored, leaning lazily against the chain-link fence, watching you stretch.

“You sure you wanna do this, babe?” he drawled, voice smooth like silk over steel. “You know I don’t like to mess up pretty things.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t go soft on me, Haitani.”

His brow lifted, a smirk already tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, sweetheart. I wasn’t talking about me.”

You narrowed your eyes and stepped forward. “No tricks. One-on-one. Show me what the infamous Ran Haitani really has.”

He clicked his tongue, pushing off the fence. “Alright then. Let’s see what that mouth can actually back up.”

The fight was quick — but not easy.

You were fast. He was faster. You were clever. He was slippery as hell.

He didn’t go full force — that wasn’t his style. But he didn’t treat you like glass either. He let the tension build, enjoying every blocked strike, every dodge, every near hit.

“You’ve improved,” he said casually as he danced out of range. “Like, actually. Color me mildly impressed.”

“You’re just stalling,” you snapped.

“Maybe.” He flashed that infuriating smirk — and then swept your legs from under you.

You hit the rooftop floor with a thud, breath stolen from your lungs.

Before you could groan, Ran was already crouched beside you, tilting his head like you were something worth framing.

“Damn,” he said. “Still hot, even on your back.”

“Don’t push it.”

He grinned — and without hesitation, scooped you up bridal style, long limbs making it look effortless.

“Ran—”

“I win, I carry you. That’s the rule now.”

“You just made that up.”

“All the best rules are made on the spot.”

You squinted at him. “...Fine. But I don’t want snacks.”

“Oh?” he hummed, amused. “So what do you want, princess?”

You stared at him, completely serious. “Take me home. Run me a bath. And stay. No clubbing. No disappearing. I want you — just for the night.”

For the first time, Ran paused. That easy grin faltered for half a second.

He blinked. “That’s what you’re asking for? Not food, not revenge, not bragging rights?”

You nodded, your voice softer now. “I don’t need all that. I just want you, Ran. The real you.”

The shift in his face was subtle — like a cloud passing over the sun, only to reveal something warmer behind it.

He kissed your forehead — slower than usual, more real — and murmured against your skin:

“Alright then. You win.”

And just like that, he turned, still carrying you, and started walking.

“No stupid rooftop party tonight?” you asked quietly.

“Nope.”

“No late-night chaos?”

He chuckled. “Not unless you want some mild domestic chaos — involving bubble bath and poorly folded towels.”

You smiled into his neck.

“Good.”

And as the city buzzed behind you, Ran Haitani — king of games, of half-lies and lazy grins — gave you something rare:

his undivided presence.

And this time, losing never felt more like winning.

___________________________________________________________________________

Rindou Haitani:

The city skyline was lit up with neon glows, casting faint reflections across the cold pavement. Rindou leaned back against a parked car, hands tucked into his pockets as he observed you from a distance. His smirk was already forming, though his eyes were hard to read.

“Are you really sure about this, darling?” His voice was low, cutting through the cool night air. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

You crossed your arms and shot him a challenging look, trying to hide the slight nerves bubbling up. “I’m not afraid of you, Rindou. I can handle myself.”

His lips curled into a half-grin, his gaze flickering up and down your form. “It’s not about handling yourself. It’s about surviving me.”

There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he took a step forward. “Fine. Let’s see if you can last more than five minutes.”

The fight started fast — quicker than you expected. Rindou’s style was cold, efficient, calculated. He didn’t waste time. Every move, every counter, had a purpose. You’d barely gotten a hit in before he was sidestepping, using your momentum against you.

“Is that all you’ve got, darling?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I thought you were stronger than this.”

You gritted your teeth, frustration building as you tried to keep up. But Rindou was relentless, moving with the fluidity of someone who’d fought countless battles — each step measured, each glance a reminder that you were just a game to him.

“Come on, show me something.” He dodged your attack with ease and then knocked your legs out from under you with a swift sweep.

You hit the ground with a thud, gasping for breath. “Tch…”

He was already standing over you, arms crossed, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Was that really it? I thought you were all tough, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up, but you couldn’t help the frustration that burned in your chest. Rindou was so calm, so collected, like he had you figured out from the moment you stepped in front of him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, kneeling down and lifting you effortlessly, his grip strong around your waist. “You gave it a shot. That’s more than most would.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”

“Pfft, please. If I really gave you a chance, you’d be crying right now,” he replied with a smirk. “But since you lasted longer than expected, I’ll let you have this one. I’ll carry you, darling.”

You blinked, blinking away the light blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’m not some damsel you can just pick up and—”

“Shut up, darling,” Rindou cut you off, scooping you into his arms without any hesitation. “You lost. I win. You don’t get a say in this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You really think I’ll just let you carry me like this?”

He smirked, his sharp gaze never leaving yours. “You can complain all you want, but you will let me carry you, darling. Because I said so.”

As he began walking toward the exit of the training area, you settled against his chest, still a little annoyed but secretly appreciative of the closeness. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, you could feel the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms, and the quiet sense of protection radiating from him — even if he’d never outright show it.

“You’re the worst,” you muttered, glancing up at him with a smirk.

“I’m the best,” he retorted, kissing the top of your head with that same smug attitude. “And don’t forget it, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?”

Rindou’s face softened just a little, though he tried to hide it behind a playful scoff. “Don’t get used to it. This is just for tonight.”

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his affection tucked away in his words, even if his pride wouldn’t let him admit it.

“Anything for you, darling,” he muttered under his breath, his usual coldness melting away, even if just for a moment.

__________________________________________________________________________

Kazutora Hanemiya:

The moment the spar started, you could feel the weight of Kazutora’s energy — a mix of pent-up aggression and calculated precision. His movements were sharp and quick, his eyes burning with a fiery intensity. He wasn’t holding back, but there was something about the way he kept glancing at you that made it clear he wasn’t going full throttle.

“You ready to quit yet?” he taunted, narrowly dodging a punch you threw his way. “You look like you’re already regretting this.”

You gritted your teeth and lunged again, determined to make it past his defenses. Kazutora sidestepped easily, catching your wrist with a firm grip and twisting you around until your back hit the floor with a thud.

He crouched beside you, looking down at you with a mixture of amusement and something else — something that flickered behind his eyes.

“Give up yet?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the teasing gone. “I didn’t wanna hurt you, you know. This is stupid.”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable. “I’m not done yet.”

Kazutora paused, then exhaled sharply through his nose, frustrated. “You’re really stubborn, aren’t you?”

Without warning, he picked you up off the ground, holding you in his arms like it was nothing. His grip was surprisingly gentle, though the heat radiating from his body told you he was still struggling to control the storm inside him.

You blinked, confused. “Wait… what are you—?”

“You lost,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes. “And now I’m carrying you. It’s not like I want to, but... I can’t let you just lie there like that. You’re... too important to me, alright?”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. You were the one who challenged him, and yet here you were, in his arms, looking up at him with confusion. His usual cocky attitude had melted into something else entirely — a quiet, almost painful sincerity.

“Kazutora,” you whispered, trying to read his face, “you don’t have to be like this. I can handle myself.”

His expression faltered for a second, and he sighed, shaking his head. “I know you can. I just… I hate seeing you hurt. And even if you’re strong, I can’t stand the idea of you pushing yourself to the point where you get hurt for my stupid pride.”

You stayed silent, letting the weight of his words settle between you two. Kazutora wasn’t the type to be openly soft, but in moments like this, when the mask slipped, it was clear how much he cared.

“I wasn’t going to hold back,” he muttered, as though justifying his actions. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Not like that.”

You smiled softly, your heart melting just a little at the vulnerability he was offering, even if it was reluctantly. “I’m not made of glass, Kazutora.”

He looked down at you, finally meeting your gaze, his expression softening. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna act like you are,” he said, voice low and a little rough.

You laughed quietly, resting your head against his chest. “You’re so complicated.”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” he replied, his voice almost a whisper as he tightened his hold on you.

And for the first time, the edge of his usual brashness softened, leaving only the quiet, raw affection that was hard to hide beneath his anger and guilt.

“Anything for you, baby,” he murmured, his grip around you firm and reassuring as he carried you out of the training area. He wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but in his own way, he was already thinking about how to make up for the fight you’d just had.

__________________________________________________________________________

Izana Kurokawa:

The dim lights of the underground training area flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the worn floor. Izana stood in the center, his expression unreadable as he watched you approach with a glint of determination in your eyes.

“You really want to challenge me?” His voice was cool, almost detached, but there was a faint edge to it that suggested amusement. “I suppose you’re not scared. But that’s cute.”

You met his gaze with defiance, refusing to back down. “I’m not scared. I want to see if I can keep up with you.”

Izana tilted his head, his gaze never leaving you. “You’ve been watching me long enough, haven’t you? You know I don’t go easy on anyone. Especially not you.”

You squared your shoulders, the tension in the air thickening. “I don’t need you to go easy. Just fight me.”

He smiled — a slow, almost predatory curl of his lips. “As you wish, darling.”

The fight began with Izana’s movements quick and calculated, a dance of effortless grace and overwhelming strength. His eyes never lost focus on you, but there was something playful in his expression as he blocked each of your strikes, dodging them with ease.

You pressed on, faster than before, trying to land even a single blow. But Izana was always one step ahead, his reactions swift and almost clinical. The way he avoided your attacks with such casual precision was maddening.

“You’re getting better,” he remarked, voice cold yet laced with faint amusement. “But not good enough.”

Frustration boiled inside you as you attempted a high kick, hoping to catch him off guard. But Izana easily caught your leg in mid-air, twisting it with a fluid motion that sent you crashing to the ground.

Before you could even process the fall, he was already standing over you, his expression not cold, but almost... disappointed.

“You still think you can beat me?” he asked softly, the question a challenge more than a statement. His voice was dangerously calm.

You glared at him, the sting of defeat sharp in your chest. “I’m not done yet.”

Izana bent down, his fingers grazing your cheek in a manner so gentle, it almost didn’t match his usual persona. “You don’t need to keep trying to prove yourself, you know. You already have my attention.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, Izana lifted you effortlessly into his arms, his grip tight and secure as he cradled you against him.

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he murmured, his voice softer now, tinged with something that wasn’t quite annoyance but something deeper — an emotion he wouldn’t admit easily. “You’re not built to take me on, darling. You’ve already lost.”

You looked up at him, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t mocking you, wasn’t belittling you like others would. No, Izana seemed… strangely protective in this moment.

“I don’t need protection,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to show you I could keep up.”

Izana sighed, running a hand through your hair as if lost in thought. His fingers brushed against your skin, and for a moment, the calm veneer he so carefully maintained slipped, revealing something far more tender.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, darling,” he said quietly, his voice raw in a way that almost didn’t match his usual confident tone. “You’re more than enough. I just… don’t want to see you hurt.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you were caught off guard by the vulnerability he allowed to show — just a crack, but it was there.

You softened in his arms, feeling the heat of his body, the strength of his hold, and despite the earlier arrogance, he was treating you like something precious — something worth protecting.

“...Then why do you push me so hard?” you whispered, the question escaping before you could stop it.

Izana looked down at you, his gaze softening just a fraction. “Because I know you can handle it. But I also know you’ll never ask me to go easy on you. So I don’t,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “But that doesn’t mean I want to watch you fall apart.”

You stared at him, searching his eyes, feeling the complexities of his feelings swirling around. Despite everything, he cared in his own twisted, guarded way.

“Can’t we just… enjoy the moment without all the fighting?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Izana’s lips twitched into a smile of his own, though it was laced with a quiet, confident pride. “I suppose we can. But only because you earned it. Everything for you, baby.”

He kissed you softly on the forehead, a rare and gentle gesture that made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re mine, Queen. Don’t forget it.”

And for the first time in a long while, Izana Kurokawa let his guard down, just a little — offering you something far more real than the cold, calculating persona he showed the world.

___________________________________________________________________________

Kokonoi Hajime:

The training room was quiet, save for the sound of your quick breaths and the soft shuffle of Kokonoi’s shoes against the floor. He stood there, looking effortlessly composed as always, watching you prepare for the challenge. His eyes narrowed in slight amusement as you faced him, an unexpected challenge in your stance.

“You sure about this?” His voice was smooth, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something more — concern, perhaps, but he wouldn’t admit it. “I don’t want to break you, sweetheart.”

You met his gaze, hands clenched into fists. “I’m not made of glass, Kokonoi. Just fight me.”

He smirked, leaning slightly forward, his hands tucked into his pockets like he was bored. “If you say so.”

The fight began slowly — Kokonoi wasn’t in a rush. His movements were precise, effortlessly evading each of your attacks, his focus never wavering. You struck fast, but Kokonoi was always there, a step ahead of you. His speed and grace were unmatched, and the distance between you two seemed to grow with every failed attempt you made to land a blow.

“I’ve got to admit,” he said, voice still teasing but tinged with a slight edge, “you’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

You gritted your teeth, frustration building as you tried to land a hit, but Kokonoi dodged each time. The fight was more a dance than a battle, and every time you got close, he was out of reach.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” he continued, his voice so smooth it almost felt like a caress. “But you’re not that good.”

You didn’t stop, though — you refused to quit. But eventually, Kokonoi’s calculated precision took over, and with a quick movement, he had you pinned against the floor. Your breath hitched as you realized you’d been bested.

He was on top of you, a smirk playing at his lips, his gaze softening just a bit when he saw your flushed face, the mix of frustration and determination in your eyes.

“You know,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “you’re really something else, aren’t you? Stubborn, determined... kind of cute.”

You scowled up at him, trying to wriggle free, but it was no use. He had you trapped, and he knew it. The distance between your faces closed just a little, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Doesn't feel good, does it?” he murmured, his voice tender now, though still playful. “To be so close to losing.”

You managed a small huff, half-annoyed and half-amused. “I’m not losing, Kokonoi. Just... learning.”

He raised an eyebrow, his thumb gently brushing across your cheek. “I admire your spirit, sweetheart. But let’s be honest. You knew you were going to lose the second you challenged me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but his hand gently cupping your face softened the edge of your glare. Kokonoi leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You tried your best. That’s all I ever ask of you, darling.”

Your heart skipped at the softness in his words — words he rarely used for anyone else. Kokonoi was a master at keeping his feelings hidden, but now, as you lay beneath him, you could feel the tenderness in the way he held you, the affection hiding just behind the smooth, calculated exterior.

Without saying another word, he gently lifted you in his arms, cradling you like you weighed nothing. There was a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, his expression surprisingly warm.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, his voice now utterly gentle, the usual coolness replaced with something more sincere. “You put up a good fight. But you’ve earned a break.”

You blinked up at him, still feeling a little breathless from the fight, and the unexpected gentleness caught you off guard. “You’re too much sometimes,” you muttered.

Kokonoi chuckled softly, his grip tightening around you, his voice low and affectionate. “I know, darling. But for you? I’d do anything.”

He held you against him a little tighter, letting the quiet tenderness of the moment linger.

___________________________________________________________________________

Hanma Shuji:

The atmosphere in the warehouse felt thick with tension. Hanma stood casually against a pillar, his body relaxed but his eyes fixed on you with a mischievous glint. His smirk never left his lips, and he knew exactly what kind of game you were playing.

“You sure you want to do this, doll?” Hanma’s voice was low, teasing, a note of danger in every word. “You think you can handle me?”

You squared your shoulders, the challenge burning in your eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, Hanma. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He chuckled, a dark, rumbling sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Cute. You think you can keep up with me? You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that.”

His grin only widened. “But spirit won’t save you from me.”

From the moment the fight started, you realized Hanma was a different kind of fighter — unpredictable, wild, and completely in control. He didn’t move in a calculated way like others did. Instead, he fought with a chaotic energy that left you guessing at every turn. Each attack came faster than the last, and every time you thought you were close to landing a blow, Hanma was already one step ahead.

“You’re not even trying, doll,” Hanma taunted, dodging another of your punches with ease. “If you keep this up, you’re gonna be begging me to stop.”

You gritted your teeth, frustration bubbling up, but you didn’t back down. You lunged at him again, throwing a series of rapid punches, but Hanma danced out of your reach with an ease that was almost mocking.

“I told you,” he chuckled darkly, sidestepping your attack. “You’re too slow for me.”

Before you could react, Hanma closed the gap, grabbing you by the waist and flipping you over his shoulder in a swift, fluid motion. You hit the floor with a thud, your breath knocked out of you.

Hanma stood over you, the smug grin never leaving his face. “You were cute, doll. Really. But you were never gonna win this.”

He crouched down beside you, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You didn’t really think you could beat me, did you?”

You scowled, trying to push yourself up, but he was already there, kneeling beside you and grabbing your wrists to hold you down effortlessly.

“You’re just too easy to play with,” he teased, his tone dripping with dark affection. “But I’ll give you credit, you didn’t back down.”

Hanma tilted his head, studying you with a kind of twisted curiosity. “You're a little fighter, aren't you?”

You met his gaze, your chest rising and falling with labored breaths. “I’m not done yet.”

His laugh was low and mocking, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I’m sure you’re not. But it’s over, doll.”

Without warning, Hanma scooped you up in his arms, his grip unrelenting, as if you weighed nothing at all. His face was dangerously close to yours, the teasing smirk never leaving his lips.

“I gotta say, you really thought you had a chance.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, a bizarrely gentle motion that only added to the unsettling feel of the moment. “But now, you’re mine. You know that, right?”

Your heart raced, the mix of fear and exhilaration flooding your veins. You couldn’t deny the way Hanma’s presence consumed you, his every move exuding a strange sort of dominance.

“I could’ve let you off easy,” he continued, his voice low and dark as he stared down at you. “But I like when you try to fight me, doll. Makes it more fun.”

His grip tightened slightly, and he pulled you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he looked at you — dark, possessive, and yet almost fond — made your pulse race in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“You’re a good doll,” Hanma murmured, his lips curling into a grin as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe I’ll let you have a reward for that.”

Before you could respond, Hanma pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both heated and rough, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you close. He pulled away just enough to whisper, “Everything for you, doll. But don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

You were left breathless, pinned in his arms, the fight long forgotten as his presence swallowed you whole.

___________________________________________________________________________

Wakasa Imaushi:

The soft hum of the city outside mixed with the gentle creak of the wooden floorboards beneath your feet. Sunlight filtered lazily through the window blinds, casting warm stripes across the room. You and Wakasa were alone in your shared apartment — no distractions, no audience, just the quiet space you both called home.

It had started as a joke — a playful challenge, a way to break the evening’s calm. But now, you were in the middle of a lighthearted but competitive scuffle, the air thick with laughter and teasing.

“You really want to do this, sweetheart?” Wakasa’s voice was low, amused, and he was already crouched slightly, ready to move. His dark eyes glittered with mischief, watching you like a predator amused by its prey.

“I’m serious,” you shot back, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Try me.”

The first clash was gentle — hands pushing lightly, feet shuffling for leverage. You managed to grab his arm and tug, but Wakasa’s reflexes were too sharp. With a swift move, he twisted around you, expertly pinning you against the couch.

You gasped, breath catching — his body warm against yours, steady and strong. For a moment, everything stopped: the playful energy, the chase, the laughter. Just the quiet closeness.

Wakasa’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a rare tenderness in his usual cool gaze. “Got you,” he whispered, voice low and almost vulnerable.

You lay there for a second, chest rising and falling with surprise and a bit of awe. Then, with a grin, you suddenly pushed him lightly, making him stumble back a step.

“No fair,” you teased, laughing.

He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “You’re tricky, baby.”

You lunged forward again, this time managing to shove him onto the couch, the two of you collapsing into a tangle of limbs and soft laughter.

For a moment, you just stared at him, breathless and flushed, your heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the play fight.

Wakasa’s eyes were dark and steady, watching you with that rare softness reserved just for you. He reached out, brushing your hair behind your ear, fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary.

“You always make me work for it,” he murmured.

You couldn’t help yourself — you leaned up quickly, pressing a light, teasing kiss to his lips.

He froze for a second, then smiled, his fingers curling gently around your wrist. “Everything for you, princess.”

You laughed softly, your hands resting on his chest as the playful fight faded into quiet warmth.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I’m going to win.”

Wakasa’s smirk deepened. “I’m looking forward to it.”

[miss-jaye]

if manjiro sano ever saw his wife in a sundress, he’d drop to his knees and worship her right then and there—not that he didn’t do that every day already.

when you stepped out of the bathroom in a cute little sundress that hugged your figure just right, you couldn’t resist giving your husband a playful twirl, the skirt swirling around you perfectly. you’d tied your hair with a bow to complete the look, and manjiro just stood there, staring, his jaw slack and drool threatening to escape the corner of his mouth.

you turned back around with a smile, but it quickly morphed into a puzzled expression. “manjiro? honey, you’re drooling.”

“huh?” he blinked, not even bothering to wipe the drool away. “you’re not wearing that out of the house without me.” he closed the distance between you, slipping his hands around your waist.

you chuckled, grabbing a nearby towel to dab the drool from his chin. “what are you talking about, baby?”

“you’re just too…” manjiro trailed off, his eyes locked on the stunning woman in his arms. “too...?”

you tilted your head with an amused smile, watching as he looked at you like a dog with its ears perked up and tail wagging in anticipation.

“perfect,” he finally finished, a grin spreading across his face. your blond husband then pulled you close and dipped you unexpectedly.

“oh!” you squealed, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck for stability.

he chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, his lips tasting of your strawberry chapstick as his tongue playfully sought entrance. you gave it without hesitation, and the two of you made out for a few sweet minutes until the need for air forced you to pull away, breathless and slightly flushed.

“what was that for?” you asked, your voice tinged with a soft blush.

manjiro smiled down at you. “will you marry me again?”

you rolled your eyes, playfully exasperated. “'jiro, i’ve remarried you twice already. we can’t keep doing this.”

“yes, we can. we have the money. or better yet, let’s just skip to the honeymoon part, yeah?”

“'jiro!” you scolded, laughing.

[metranart]

Will you be Toman’s darling? Mikey can’t seem to stop asking, it’s not enough to be able to fuck you whenever he wants, he needs the title that you’re HIS but not only his but also his mates, those guys he loves more than his own life… and unfortunately, you do as well. 

You don’t understand why it’s so important to them, but each one has asked the same question over and over again. Draken kisses you, his tongue dancing with yours while his hips don’t miss a single thrust, it’s delicious, it’s delirious and he only dares to break the kiss to ask. “Will you be ours?” —You don’t answer, just bite his lip and begin to thrust your hips to him, as a way to distract him but he’s not dumb and less of all, a quitter, so he won’t give up, none of them will! 

Baji’s strong hands anchor you to him, perched on either side of your hips as he rams you from behind, your eyes have been blank for more than fifteen minutes, his name rolls off your tongue like your private mantra and from his tongue rolls: “Say yes,” his ragged breath demands, “Stop torturing us and say yes, shit!” The answer he wants to hear isn’t spoken but that doesn’t discourage him from cumming deep inside you -marking you from the inside out at least gives him so kind of relieve-…. 

Mitsuya’s attempts are more tender, kisses and cuddles, your naked bodies tangled in each other, the strong fingers of his fist tangled among your sweaty strands of silky hair, each thrust hitting that special place inside you that makes you see stars, his lips only parting to adore you and when you think you’re safe: “We will take care of you, we will go out of our way for you… just say yes, just grant us that favor—be OURS….”. Apparently being filled by each and every one of these gang members isn’t enough, moaning their names and marking their necks with hickey doesn’t satisfy them, they want you for themselves, they want you in their gang as their banner as their princess. 

Mikey is the most stubborn, his fat thumb slides under your skirt, snaking behind your panties, two fingers accompanying it to slip inside you, drumming and circling your clit as if it were the joystick of an Xbox control, your flushed cheeks and half-open lids delight him, makes him drunk and dizzy, just being able to put you in that delirious state. He knows it’s his mission in life to have you like this forever, you’re his, you must conquer Tokyo with them, you must stop resisting and agree to their terms. Mikey doesn’t waste any moment to ask, while he kisses you, while he eats you out, while he makes you cum harder than ever. 

“Will you be ours? ....yesyesyesyes-?”

Their teamwork is weakening your good judgment, it’s too much, your knees buckle, and your voice is a permanent moan. Damn! Your shivering lips parted and the gazes of the four gang members shine with hope. Anxiety and stress can be detected in their clenched fists, a heavy silence falls over everyone when you say: 

“I’m already yours, why do we need to tag it… I’m not going anywhere.”

There is disappointment, frustration, even anger but also amusement in their features. They won’t accept a refusal. They will just have to keep convincing you, again and again and again. You are stubborn, but so are they.

➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this drabble 🥵

[baby-tini]

Mikey brainrot 😍

OG Timeline Mikey with a serious breeding kink even though he’s always busy, he takes any opportunity to fill reader 😭

oooo Mikey with a breeding kink 🤤🤤🤤

-OG Manjiro Sano is definitely a creampie kind of guy, he keeps you filled to the brim constantly. Where ever he can, whenever he can. He thinks it would be a waste too just you wipe it off or for it too go into a condom. He's always liked fucking your pussy raw better anyway. -He likes you nice and messy for him, he also likes too watch it leak out of your pretty cunt, just so he can push it back in with his fingers, he won't be too happy if you let any of it leak out. -He doesn't care which position he fills you in, but, if he had too choose, it would most likely be missionary. A little basic, but, he prefers too watch your facial expressions as he cums in you. The way your back arches when he rubs tight circles into your clit has his eyes rolling back. Especially when he cums in you and you squeeze him tighter, trying too take him for all he's worth. -Mikey can be so fucking nasty sometimes, because it's not just your pussy that he likes too keep filled, he likes too keep that smart little mouth of yours full too. He'll fuck his fingers into your sloppy cunt, only too pull out his fingers, coated in his own cum, and yours. Only too slip them in your mouth, keeping his cum on your tongue until he's done with you, and you better not swallow any of it either, unless he tells you too. Because he'll just fill your mouth up again, but double the amount, until it's spilling from your between your lips. -He likes having you bounce on his cock as you beg and plead for him too fill you up makes him feral, he looses it when you tell him how much you love when he cums in you, how he always fills you so nicely. Begging for his cum too fill you up until you physically can't hold anymore, until it's quite literally spilling out of you in a thick stream, getting your thighs all sticky and messy with the thick liquid. -He loves fucking you in doggy too though, he'll spread your ass cheeks apart so he can watch his cock fuck into you as he spits, adding more lubricant so he can fuck you more efferently. Wrapping your hair around his hand as he pulls your back flush against his chest, whispering the most fucked up shit your ear as your mouth hangs open, nothing coming out as tears slip down your cheeks. -He takes videos of your little... sessions. He's away quite a lot, meaning he can't fuck you as much as he'd like too, but that's okay, because he makes sure he takes enough footage too hold him over until he makes it back to you, so ha can fill you in person. He'll have you hold your legs open, each arm under one of your thighs, holding them still so he can spread your lips open, zooming in on the white cream spilling out, only too spread all over your pussy. Using his cum too make easier for him too rub your clit as he catches yet another of your orgams on camera. -As I've stated, he likes too keep your mouth quiet when you're not using it too scream for him, but he likes too turn it into a little game. If you can manage too keep every single drop of his cum in your mouth, he'll let you cum as much as you want, however you want. But, if you do fuck up, he's not gonna be very forgiving, you won't get too cum at all. Bad girls don't get rewarded with orgasms, you should know that by now pretty baby, did you forget, huh? Speak up, he can't hear you... oh wait, your mouth is full, huh? It's okay, he'll remind you. -He also likes too cum in your panties as your wearing them, pulling you to somewhere barley discreate, he'll have you pull down your panties a little bit as he pulls his cock, pumping it too get him hard as he watches your pretty face as your lips form into a pout as you plead with him too cum in your panties, whining at him too please rub his tip on your clit as you feel his cum already soaking through the thin cloth as he sends you away with a pat on your ass. -It's a privilege too be filled and thoroughly fucked by the Invincible Mikey, so you better say thank you when he's done with you, yeah?

[joonipertree]

Imagine being Mikey's girlfriend and having so many teenagers giving you respect as if you're the leader of the number one biker gang in Tokyo.

Imagine how confused everyone in your school is when a group of bulky, testosterone filled, aggressive high schoolers come and bow at a 90° angle. You're staring with reddened cheeks because ???????????

But they're off to go to class without a word, muttering to themselves. Your classmates and friends are like: "dude what the fuck happened?" and you're like "I don't even know."

Then some fuckers come and offer to hold your bag for you? To get you lunch? Someone gave you their bento? And everyone starts noticing how it's only the delinquents that do it. Mostly the ones wearing the Tokyo Manji uniform.

If there's a Toman member in class, you bet your ass they'd threaten the teacher for you. Like "They got that answer right!!" and you're like "no!!! I didn't!!!"

You're so scared your teachers were gonna give you detention. Or call your parents to let them know their child had a gaggle of delinquents doing their bidding.

God, imagine if they call you a title. Like "princess" or something. I can't even think of a title suited for this. But like something cringey that gets you annoyed and the clueless people around you start having even weirder theories.

Biggest one? You're the Yakuza's daughter.

IMAGINE!!!! IF SOME OF THE TOMAN INNER CIRCLE WERE THERE SJSNSNSJKSKWKA

I'm imagining Baji and chifuyu laughing their ass off in the corner, on the floor, gasping for air. And when you notice them, you run and ask if they had anything to do with this.

Baji wishes and chifuyu was growing purple from lack of oxygen. You kicked at them and wacked them with your book. WHICH MADE THINGS WORSE BECAUSE YOUR FELLOW STUDENTS ARE SEEING U BEAT UP GANG MEMBERS. YOURE A RAGING MONSTER IN THEIR EYES NOW.

If the toman members see this, do you think they'd be afraid of you? They'd be shaking in their boots at someone most likely half their size and that couldn't even win an arm wrestling match.

You'd ask Baji and chifuyu to tell them to stop. They would very loudly call you princess and run away cackling.

I'm pretty sure in highschool, the inner circle go to the same school. I don't remember but Takemitchy, Hakkai and Chifuyu go to the same school right?

If you think Takemitchy would help, chifuyu convinced him not to. Anyone else there is just someone you couldn't get a hold of. And you just ended up ignoring the delinquents and going about your day. Which just made you look like even more of a gang leader, walking down a hallway with a blank stare while people around you bowed.

Some non delinquents call you princess and you're telling them that "no, it's a prank. A sick joke that my boyfriend is playing on me."

People realise very quickly why you were being treated like royalty when the school day ended.

Because lo and behold, The Invincible Mikey was standing at the gate, leaning against his infamous bike as he waited for you. People just stopped and stared, not bothering leaving the vicinity, out of curiosity and maybe fear.

You see Mikey and start stomping towards him, everyone holding their breath because 'the yakuzas daughter was going head to head with the captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang.'

But Mikey was smiling brightly, arms open for a hug as he made grabby hands at you.

You came close and kicked him on the shin.

I honestly can't imagine everyone's reaction. Stunned silence. It's a sense of doom I think. A sense of 'rest in peace'. But also, the utter shock and respect you'd just accumulated from your peers in a second. You had some mad fucking balls to do that shit. Even full grown adults wouldn't do something like that to Sano Manjiro. People were ready to join your followers and praise you.

The kick was weak by the way, Mikey didn't even flinch. He just looked confused and then you ranted to him about your day and suddenly he was fully relying on his Babu to hold him up. Because my god, was he laughing his ass off. He couldn't breathe.

If Ken-chin was with him, let's be honest he would be, the man would also be on his knees dying of laughter. Just...imagine every Toman member that's part of the inner circle.... laughing vehemently at you for this.

With grumbles and glares, you try walking home by yourself but Mikey is quick to pull you back into his arms. His laughter hadn't stopped but he was leaning on you now.

The way one sinewy hand was on your waist while the other was tangled in your hair...made it very clear what you guys were to each other.

It was a collective 'oh.....oh' moment.

Mikey peppered many apologetic kisses on your cheeks and you whined about how embarrassing it was and how people were watching. Unbeknownst to you, Mikey had slyly made eye contact with anyone staring and glared daggers at them.

Ken-chin then decided to stand in front of the two of you and throw daggers at the on lookers for him.

And as much as you wanted to push away, you leant into his kisses and let him give you one on the nose and forehead. He tasted sweet on your lips too and your arms were around his neck, pulling away to stop the boy from going overboard like he always did.

"I'll treat you to lunch to make up for it?" Mikey whisperer gently, eyes soft and lovesick.

"Promise to call a meeting and tell everyone to stop?"

Mikey snorted, "Yes princess."

The punch on his arm was a lot harder. Mikey made an exaggerated pained expression, snickering to himself as he pulled you in close.

"It's not like it's a lie, though. You should be treated like royalty and have everyone do your bidding."

The blush that rose on your cheeks made his heart flutter.

"Only you can....treat me like that."

Oh he's not letting go of you any time soon.

Bonus: Later on, when you meet Baji and Chifuyu...they call you princess and burst out laughing. You promptly throw both of your shoes at them.

I also feel like if the Haitani brothers caught wind of this, it'd just be the worst for you. They are the snarkiest motherfuckers.

[chalkscene]

tokyo revengers ⇢ YOU’RE TOO DRUNK TO RECOGNIZE YOUR BOYFRIEND

ft. manjiro “mikey” sano, ken “draken” ryuguji, keisuke baji, takashi mitsuya, rindou haitani, ran haitani & shuji hanma

warnings: alcohol and a very hammered reader. the boys are more responsible than you <3

this is one of the rare occurrences wherein MIKEY actually shares his food. when you’ve finally given up on fighting him for the last bottle of alcohol, you start whining about your sudden hunger so he slides his plate of nachos over to you. he watches you eye it for a second before you drag your gaze up to him. “i have a boyfriend you know?” you tell him, your attempt to be menacing coming out pathetically as the attitude dripping from your tone is dampened by your slurred speech. mikey doesn’t need the club to be well lit. the strobe lights already illuminate your face enough for him to get a clear view of your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “i know,” he confirms with a tinge of exasperation, “because it’s me. mikey. your boyfriend.” he emphasizes his last words, his last effort to knock some sense into you but you only let out a cackle which catches him off guard. “nice try but mikey never shares his food.”

“that’s enough.” DRAKEN snatches the last of your many drinks for the night before you can gulp it down. being the perceptive boyfriend he is, he can already hear the complaint that’s about to slip from your tongue so he’s quick to pull you by the wrist, up from your seat and out the door. “where are you taking me?” you ask as clearly as your drunken state can let you—not so much but enough for your boyfriend to understand. “home.” at his curt reply, you yank your hand from his grip with a strength that startles even toman’s former vice president. “what the hell are you doing?” draken hisses lest you make a scene in public. “i’m calling my boyfriend,” you warn him, “bet he can kick your ass.” “yeah? i’d like to see him try.” he dismisses your empty threat, reaching for you once more to guide you to the exit but upon hearing a few whispers from prying strangers who are clearly getting the wrong idea, he stops in his tracks and turns to no one in particular, no longer caring about whatever commotion he may cause as his voice booms over the loud music: “i’m the boyfriend!”

“let me go!” you relentlessly thrash around, yelling out threats of calling your boyfriend, while BAJI—the boyfriend in question—pulls you into an empty alleyway to avoid any possible public humiliation for the both of you. “fuck,” he huffs out a breath, “when did you get this strong?” some time in the night, he’s tuned you out telling him off, on a sole mission to stop you from drinking more than you already have. and he’s relieved he managed to get you out of the bar—that is until he hears a weird noise coming from you. “wh-” baji doesn’t get the chance to utter a single word as you begin to throw up. in a panic, he hastily puts your hair up with his spare tie before rubbing soothing circles on your back. your hair looks real messy, he notes, but that’s the least of his worries. “you feeling better?” he checks on you after a while, only to be met by more retching, making him grumble to himself, “and i get an earful when i drink too much.”

MITSUYA is helping you get on your feet—sweet boyfriend he is—but as soon as you find your footing, you give him a hefty shove. “i have a boyfriend, jackass!” you seethe, too drunk to recognize him, and all he can do is sigh as he regains his balance. “yes. me.” something clicks in your brain at his response and you squint your eyes to get a better look at him. “takashi?” “hi, love.” and just like that, you perk up, your mouth stretching into a wide grin. “taka,” you squeal, excitement coursing through your veins when you recognize your boyfriend, “hiiiii~” he laughs at the shift in your tone and takes the opportunity to slide an arm around your waist once more. “let’s get you home okay?” “mhm.” you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you with ease. mitsuya assumes you’re fast asleep until a few minutes later, you mumble something against his skin, “someone tried to flirt with me but i said no.” a chuckle bubbles past his lips as he adjusts his hold on you. “really?” “mhm,” you nod into his neck as you snuggle closer, “i only love you.” “i love you more.” “love you most,” you reply before soft snores fall from your lips and your breathing evens out.

you’re rambling about RINDOU to rindou himself, going on and on about the reasons that made you fall in love with him. and while you’re occasionally interrupted by your hiccups, he patiently listens to your every word then he hears a “but.” the ways you describe him next are less flattering, less romantic—how he tries so hard to act indifferent to your cooing as if the tips of his ears don’t instantly turn red. or how he has a permanent scowl etched on his face. and other things you already tell him even when you’re sober. “he’s really lucky he doesn’t have any wrinkles yet,” you add with a giggle. “you’re really annoying when you’re drunk, you know that?” rindou deadpans. despite the lack of lighting in the club, he doesn’t miss the shock washing over you, your eyes getting mistier by the second. “what?” your voice comes out shaky and your bottom lip starts to wobble, making rindou release another groan. “for fuck’s sake.”

in spite of your insistence to stay at the club, RAN easily managed to drag you to his car. this isn’t his first rodeo. as an older brother, he has had to deal with rindou when he was blackout drunk. “where are we going?” you mumble as you begin to stir in the passenger seat. “home.” “i wanna see ran.” your boyfriend throws you a quick glance—your eyes remain closed and the rest of your words are incomprehensible—before he focuses back on the road. amused by your drunken state, he plays along. “alright, we’re going to ran.” the stretch of silence that follows is cut short when you speak again, “i’m thirsty.” so ran makes a quick stop at a convenience store, coming back shortly with a bottle in hand. he unscrews the cap before he gives you the drink, “careful.” you take a big gulp, instantly grimacing at the taste and it elicits a snort from your boyfriend. “what is this?” “water.”

“want more,” you slur. across from you, HANMA watches as you clumsily reach for the empty shot glasses on the table, flipping them upside down as if more alcohol will magically appear. he’s not going to lie—he finds it funny. entertaining, even. and if the circumstances were any different, he would’ve even encouraged this behavior. but he’s your boyfriend now and if there’s one thing he truly cares about, it’s you. drunk out of your wits, you don’t notice when hanma slides out of the booth until he’s soon presenting two more glasses to you. even though the contents are the same, he asks you to choose, “which one?” “hmm… that.” before you can get your hands on your drink, hanma intercepts and downs it in one go. you’re about to protest when he throws you over his shoulder and chugs the other drink out of your sight before heading for the exit. “let’s go.”

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

“did it all mean nothing to you?”

he looked at you once more, and though his expression didn’t change, his heart certainly did.

“no. it meant everything.”

michael kaiser, itoshi rin, ITOSHI SAE, karasu tabito (bllk), NANAMI KENTO, fushiguro toji, fushiguro megumi (jjk), LEVI ACKERMAN, s4 eren yeager (aot), MANJIRO SANO (tr)

[luxthestrange]

TOKREV Incorrect quotes#53 Siblings types

Chifuyu: THE FLOOR IS LAVA!

Smiley*helps Angry onto the counter*!!!

Emma*pushes Mikey off the sofa*!!!

Chifuyu*to Baiji*As you can see, there are two types of siblings-

Takemichi and Y/n*try to throw each other out of danger, while also trying to perish* !?!

Chifuyu: ...

Baiji: ...

Draken: Three Types of Siblings...Three...

Y/n:-YOUR LITERALLY THE AN ANGEL WITHOUT WINGS BRO I WON'T LET YOU DIE SAVE YOURSELF, YOU CRYBABY IM THE EVIL SIBLING-

Take*Crying shaking his head*NO!THE MOMENT YOU WERE BORN I PROMISE I LOVE AND PROTECT YOU!IM A COWARD AND A WASTE OF SPACE!!YOU WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE!-

Y/n & Take: LET ME DO THIS FOR YOUUUUU!?!-

[b0nten]

HOW ARE BABIES MADE?

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.

RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”

meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”

SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.

TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”

KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.

if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.

IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.

[kanyerealdaughter]

— ★ TWITTER LINKS

sexual content , intercourse , hickies , bdsm , unprotected sex , nipple play , ( tr boys x fem )

*you have to be login into twitter/x to see the links*

—————————————————————————

fucking you through your soaked panties

ׂ╰┈➤ sanzu , hanma , rindou , inui , mitsuya

getting pulled by your collar in backshots

ׂ╰┈➤ izana , kokonoi , shinichiro

lazy side fucking in bed

ׂ╰┈➤ ran , rindou , kakucho , chifuyu

hickies on your sternum and lower…

ׂ╰┈➤ baji , ran , draken , wakasa

good morning lethal backshots

ׂ╰┈➤ mikey , hakkai , rindou

he’s so rough on you but it feels so good

ׂ╰┈➤ taiju , kisaki , sanzu , kazutora

» , ᴀ ᴋᴀɴʏᴇʀᴇᴀʟᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

copyright ©️. ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ . «

[missmadella]

His Jacket, His Girl, His Forever (Mikey x Reader)

Summary: It started with a game. Just you and Emma rating the boys of Toman during a shrine meeting, giggling about who’s hottest and who gives the best hugs. You didn’t expect Mikey to overhear. And you definitely didn’t expect him to throw his jacket over your shoulders like a claim of territory.

Words: 12280

Warnings: Soft possessiveness, clingy Mikey, a few kisses that might steal your heart, and Emma being the best wingwoman.

You met Mikey because he stole your sandwich.

Not in a cool, movie-style theft where your eyes locked across a bustling convenience store or something. No. He just walked up, took one look at your lunch, and said:

"That looks better than mine."

Then he picked it up and took a bite.

It was a Tuesday.

You blinked at him, absolutely stunned. “Excuse me?”

He blinked back, still chewing. “You gonna eat the rest?”

You were standing outside the corner store you always stopped at after class. You didn’t know who he was — not yet — just that he was barefoot for some reason and wearing a school uniform that didn’t match any of the local schools. His face was too pretty for his attitude.

You stared at him. “Did you just rob me?”

Mikey grinned. “Technically, no. You’re still holding it.”

You looked down at your half-eaten sandwich. Then back at him.

“…Are you high?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully, hands on his hips like he’d done nothing wrong. “Just hungry.”

You could’ve slapped him. You really could have. But then he tilted his head, sunlight hitting his eyes just right, and he smiled like someone who’d gotten away with worse.

“…You’re insane,” you muttered.

He beamed. “You’re fun. I’m Mikey.”

You didn’t give him your name. Not at first. But that didn’t stop him from showing up the next day.

And the next.

Turns out, Mikey was a bit of a legend — whether you wanted to hear it or not.

“Manjiro Sano,” Emma said when you finally brought it up. “Leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang.”

You nearly dropped your drink. “That’s Mikey?!”

She gave you a look. “You’ve been hanging out with him for two weeks and didn’t know?”

“To be fair,” you said, thinking of how he kept showing up barefoot to random convenience stores, “he doesn’t exactly scream ‘dangerous gang leader.’”

Emma raised a brow. “Tell that to the people he’s kicked unconscious.”

“…Right.”

But it was too late by then. You’d already kind of liked him.

Because Mikey wasn’t what you expected. Sure, he was unpredictable. Occasionally terrifying. Once made direct eye contact with you while eating an entire chocolate bar without chewing.

But he also made you laugh — a lot. He had the worst jokes. The best timing. He asked questions no one else thought to ask, like:

“Do you think ghosts get bored of haunting the same place?”

Or, your personal favorite:

“If I name a goldfish ‘Shinichiro,’ is that disrespectful or kind of sweet?”

Sometimes he said nothing at all. Just showed up, walked beside you, and shared whatever snack he was carrying — even if it was only one bite. (Sometimes especially if it was only one bite.)

And over time, you noticed things.

Like how he always waited for everyone else to eat before he touched his food. Or how his eyes drifted toward the sky when the conversation got too serious, like he was trying not to remember something.

He was strange. And reckless. And a little broken.

But he made you feel seen. And more importantly — he made you feel safe.

You didn’t know when you started holding his hand without thinking. Or when he stopped pretending you were just a friend.

But one night, when you handed him a sandwich without saying anything, he looked at it, then at you, and smiled that same dumb smile from the first day.

“…You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” you said, nudging him in the ribs. “But if you steal mine again, I’m breaking your legs.”

Mikey laughed — a real, unfiltered laugh — and leaned in close.

“Too late,” he whispered, stealing a bite anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been a few weeks since Mikey had started hanging around you, and things between the two of you had definitely shifted. What started as random encounters — him stealing your food, offering random deep (and often nonsensical) questions, or showing up when you least expected it — turned into something more natural. He’d walk you home, sit next to you at the corner store, and always, always drag you to random places just because he felt like it.

But today, everything changed.

You were walking out of school, talking with Emma about the usual nonsense, when you noticed a guy from your class standing awkwardly near the gate. He was fiddling with his sleeves and looking like he was trying to work up the courage to speak.

You barely had time to process when he finally blurted out, “Hey, uh... I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Would you maybe... wanna go get coffee sometime?”

You blinked. “Um, sure...”

He grinned like he’d just won a prize. “Awesome! How about tomorrow?”

Before you could respond, the sound of roaring engines interrupted the moment. You turned, and there he was — Mikey, effortlessly gliding in on his bike, the wind ruffling his already messy hair as he slowed down in front of you. His eyes locked onto the guy immediately.

“Hey,” Mikey called out, his tone lazy but with a hard edge. The guy visibly tensed.

You watched in mild confusion as Mikey hopped off his bike, walked up to you, and stood way too close for comfort — his shoulder brushing yours like he owned the space between you. “You talkin’ to my girl?” he asked, his eyes flashing toward the guy with that signature smug smile.

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Mikey’s sudden arrival and the intense, almost possessive vibe radiating off him. “Uh, I—”

“No need to answer,” Mikey cut him off, already turning to you with a grin. “I’ll take it from here, yeah?”

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the situation. “Mikey, what are you doing?”

“Claiming what’s mine.” He winked at you, hands sliding into his pockets. “I’m picking you up every day now from today, by the way. It’s a Mikey thing.”

The guy looked between you two, clearly out of his depth, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, okay, well... I guess I’ll... see you around?”

You sighed, stepping back as Mikey leaned down, resting his chin on your shoulder like he was too comfortable. “Nope,” Mikey called after the guy, giving him a half-hearted wave before turning his attention back to you. “Now, where were we?”

You were still caught off guard. “What just happened?”

Mikey let out a lazy laugh and nudged your shoulder with his. “Nothing much. Just making sure no one else thinks they can steal you away.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You’re mine.”

“Wait, really?” You were still trying to catch up, blinking at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You were already mine the second you handed me your sandwich. Don’t act like you didn’t know.” He grinned at you. “So... how about it? I’ll walk you home, and then I can take you somewhere nice.”

You tried to suppress your smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it.”

With that, Mikey draped his arm around you and practically dragged you off, leaving the guy standing there, completely forgotten.

And from that day on, you had Mikey’s attention — a lot of it. In his own unique, clingy way, he was all yours.

___________________________________________________________________________

It was almost sunset when the low rumble of engines echoed through the quiet neighborhood, signaling the approach of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

You were already at Musashi Shrine, standing just off the path with Emma. The air smelled like burnt gasoline and cedarwood. Golden light filtered through the trees, catching on the backs of the approaching riders like something out of a movie.

“Look at them,” Emma said with a smirk, nudging your shoulder. “All dramatic and cool.”

“They’re just boys in matching jackets,” you replied, but even you knew it wasn’t true. There was something magnetic about the way they moved together — a reckless kind of unity.

The boys began filing up the steps toward the meeting spot, lining up in their usual formation. You saw Baji throw a punch at someone for a reason only he understood, and Mitsuya adjusting someone’s collar with tired precision.

And then — like clockwork — he found you.

Mikey didn’t walk. He drifted. One second, he was in front of the captains; the next, he was beside you, arms lazily draped over your shoulders like he was trying to become part of your outfit.

“There you are,” he said, like you were the one who’d been missing.

You blinked. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“I know.” He leaned closer, tugging you back a step until your back bumped his chest. “But it feels longer when I’m not touching you.”

Emma made a choking noise beside you. “Oh my god.”

You ignored her and tilted your head. “Mikey—”

“Manjiro,” he corrected softly, so close to your ear it sent a little shiver down your neck.

You turned to glance at him, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone. His eyes were half-lidded, that familiar sleepy look — but there was a flicker of something more focused underneath.

“…Manjiro,” you said carefully, testing the sound of it.

His smirk deepened.

Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed a quick, stupidly soft kiss to your lips — right there in front of the whole damn world.

Not rough. Not teasing. Just gentle, quick, and unmistakably his.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He pulled back barely an inch, still close enough that his forehead nearly touched yours. “That’s better,” he murmured.

Emma wheezed. “I’m right here, you two!”

You shoved at his chest, your face suddenly way too warm. “Seriously?! Right before your big gangster meeting?!”

Mikey grinned. “Gives me good luck.”

“You’re gonna make them think I’m distracting you.”

“You are distracting,” he said, absolutely unbothered.

“Manjiro—!”

He kissed your cheek this time, slow and lingering. “Mmh. Say it again.”

“Stop being weird!” you hissed, trying to push him off — but he just hung on tighter, like a very smug, very clingy sloth.

“I like when you call me that,” he said, finally loosening his grip. “Only you, though. Everyone else sounds like a teacher.”

He finally stepped back, his fingers trailing from your hand like he didn’t quite want to let go yet. “Stay where I can see you, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why? Gonna get jealous if someone makes eye contact with me?”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked toward the captains, completely casual — as if he hadn’t just publicly kissed his girlfriend like it was a holy ritual.

Emma leaned in with wide eyes. “So. How does it feel being claimed like territory?”

You smacked her arm. “Shut up.”

__________________________________________________________________________

The sun was starting to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows over the shrine grounds as the Tokyo Manji Gang settled into their usual positions. Mikey, ever the casual leader, was already at the center, chatting with Draken and the other captains. The air around them was tense, full of gang business that you really didn’t want to hear about.

You and Emma were sitting off to the side, legs dangling from the stone platform as you watched the boys talk shop. You could barely make out the words — something about territory and rival gangs — but honestly, the topic wasn’t new. It was the same stuff they always talked about.

Mikey, however, had a different agenda.

You were scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself, when you felt the familiar weight of his jacket being draped over your shoulders. You froze, glancing up just in time to see him flash a lazy grin at you from across the group.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, blinking at him.

“Making sure everyone knows you’re taken,” Mikey replied casually, shoving his hands into his pockets as he leaned against a tree. “Don’t want anyone getting any ideas.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Mikey’s “possessive” side had always been cheeky, but something about his calm expression and the weight of his jacket made it feel more real this time.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He winked. “What? You’re my girl. I gotta make sure they all know.”

Emma, who was sitting next to you, let out a dramatic sigh. “Mikey’s so whipped. It’s kind of adorable.”

“Emma,” you whispered, nudging her with your elbow, but she was already grinning from ear to ear.

Mikey overheard and grinned back at her, giving a half-shrug. “I’m not whipped. I’m just... protective.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Mikey was unpredictable, a wild mix of playful and possessive, but you liked it. You liked him.

As the conversation droned on, you felt your attention starting to wander. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Toman’s plans, but right now, it was just a bunch of boys talking in circles about turf wars and rival gangs. You glanced at Emma, who was already bored out of her mind.

 “What do you think?” you whispered. “Want to play the game again?”

Emma grinned mischievously. “I’m so in. But let’s make it more interesting.”

You glanced at Mikey, who was still fully engaged in the meeting, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on Baji as he ranted about something. He didn’t notice the playful glint in your eye. Perfect.

“Alright, let’s do it. First question, who’s the most dramatic in Toman?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

Emma grinned mischievously. “Baji. No contest.”

You couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah, he’s always throwing tantrums like he’s the main character in a soap opera.”

You glanced at Mikey again. He was still oblivious, but you could feel him shifting a little closer to you. That clinginess of his was getting real obvious.

“And... who’s the most secretly emotional?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You weren’t going for anything too serious, just something fun to see how she’d respond.

Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Draken. He’s always trying to hide it, but you know the guy’s a softie.”

You looked over at Draken, who was standing with his arms folded, looking like the stoic rock of the group. “Hmm, you’re right. You can tell he’s got a heart of gold hidden under all that tough guy exterior.”

“Okay, okay,” Emma continued. “Now... who’s the most likely to cry during a movie?”

You glanced at Mikey, who was fiddling with his phone, sitting back on the stone steps like he owned the place. Without missing a beat, you answered, “Mikey.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, amused. “Really?”

You shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he watches a movie? He gets emotional over the smallest things.”

Emma laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

You leaned in closer, trying to stifle your laugh. “Alright, next one — who’s the worst cook in Toman?”

This time, Emma didn’t hesitate. “Mikey. He can’t even make toast without burning it.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. “He once tried to make instant ramen, and the kitchen smelled like smoke for hours.”

Emma raised her eyebrows, laughing quietly. “He’s definitely not winning any cooking awards. I bet he doesn’t even know how to make eggs.”

You glanced over at Mikey just as he casually draped his arm over your shoulder again, pulling you closer like he was very aware of what you were talking about. “What are you two gossiping about over here?”

You gave him your most innocent look. “Oh, nothing. Just discussing your many... talents.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed playfully, his lips twitching into a grin. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

You winked at him. “You’re really bad at cooking.”

He feigned shock, but his grin grew. “I can cook just fine, thank you very much. But, I guess if you don’t like my cooking, I’ll just have to feed you from now on.”

“Oh? You’re volunteering?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mikey’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Of course. I’m a man of many talents.” He leaned in a little closer. “You’re gonna love my cooking... or my effort at it.”

Emma stifled a laugh and glanced at you. “I love how he thinks he’s so charming.”

You smirked. “He’s adorable, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to roast him when it comes to the kitchen.”

Mikey gave you a playful nudge, pretending to be offended. “I’m taking this jacket back, then. No more claiming you in front of everyone.”

“Try it, and I’ll keep it,” you shot back, leaning into him.

Mikey’s eyes flicked over to the group briefly, sensing that the meeting was winding down, and then whispered, “I’m not done yet. You can’t escape me.”

You laughed quietly, shifting your focus back to Emma, who was trying to contain her giggles.

“Alright, last question,” you said, winking at Emma. “Who’s most likely to start a fight over something stupid?”

Emma didn’t think twice. “Mikey. Hands down. He’d fight someone for the last piece of candy.”

You blinked at her. “Wait... really?”

Emma shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he's hangry?”

You felt Mikey’s grip tighten on your shoulder, a sly grin forming on his face as he overheard the conversation.

“That’s not true,” he said smoothly, leaning down to kiss your temple, his voice suddenly low and teasing. “I’d never fight for candy.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Oh really?”

He winked at you, voice still soft. “Okay, maybe for candy. Or, you know, you. I’d fight anyone for you.”

Before you could retort, the meeting was starting to wrap up, and Mikey shot one last smug look at the gang. He seemed far more interested in you than anything going on in the meeting.

“Guess we’re done here, huh?” Mikey said, standing up and pulling you with him. “Time to take my girl home.”

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m pretty sure you’re the reason the meeting’s done.”

You laughed as Mikey gave Emma a playful, unbothered grin. “She’s right. You’re welcome.”

You snatched up his jacket and stood up, wrapping it around yourself like a shield from the cold. “And here I thought you were the dramatic one.”

Mikey winked, slinging an arm around you as you both made your way down the stairs. “Who else would do it better?”

Emma shook her head but smiled. “You two are impossible.”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning up at Mikey. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had finally wrapped up, the last bit of gang business taken care of. Mikey, as always, had been the first to disengage, already bouncing on his heels and ready to drag you away. His arm was still comfortably draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his jacket, which was now wrapped snugly around you.

“So, where are we going?” you asked, teasing him. He hadn’t even asked you where you wanted to go — it was as if the choice was already made for you.

“Wherever I want, obviously,” Mikey replied, giving you a cheeky grin. “I’m the leader, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on your face. Mikey was so Mikey — goofy, possessive, and absolutely confident. It was hard not to laugh at his antics.

Emma caught up with you both, waving you off with a grin. “I’ll see you two later. Don’t kill each other over lunch or something.”

“You’re welcome to join us!” Mikey called after her, but Emma just laughed and shook her head.

“Nah, I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Enjoy fighting over where to eat.”

You shot Emma a quick look, mouthing “Thanks for the backup” as she walked off, leaving you with Mikey. He was already pulling you in a direction that you couldn’t quite place.

“So, where are we really going?” you asked, a little more curious now.

Mikey just shrugged, leading you through the streets with that same carefree attitude. “Wherever. I don’t know. As long as you’re with me, I’m good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, looking at him sideways. “You really are impossible.”

He glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing in mock offense. “Impossible? I prefer the term ‘unpredictably fun.’”

You snorted. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Mikey didn’t let up, pulling you into a nearby cafe. It was one of those quiet little places tucked away from the hustle and bustle. He always seemed to know the best spots. Mikey led you straight to the counter, practically ordering for you without asking. The staff knew him by name — of course they did — and they didn’t even bat an eye at his antics.

When you got your food, Mikey insisted on sitting beside you in the most obnoxious, over-the-top way. He draped his arm around the back of your chair like he was marking his territory, then casually placed his drink next to yours, making sure it was as close as humanly possible.

You glanced at him, half amused and half exhausted from his clinginess. “Mikey, really?”

“What?” he asked innocently, as if nothing was unusual. “You’re my girl. I gotta be close.”

You shook your head, but it was impossible to stay mad at him. Even though his possessiveness was overwhelming, it was... endearing. In his own Mikey way, he really cared.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but let the conversation wander back to the game you and Emma had played earlier. Mikey had been half-listening to your banter with Emma, but now he seemed to be picking up on the teasing.

“So, I’m the most dramatic and the worst cook, huh?” he asked, his voice teasing. “I’m hurt.”

You smirked, giving him a sideways glance. “You know, you could’ve at least tried to cook for me.”

Mikey shrugged as he took a sip of his drink. “I’d burn the kitchen down. You’re lucky I just buy you food instead.”

“Well, if you can’t cook, then what is your talent, Mikey?” you teased.

His grin grew wider. “Everything.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice. “But my real talent is making you happy.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the fond smile tugging at your lips. “You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“I know,” Mikey replied, his voice a soft hum. He raised his glass and made a toast with you. “But you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You clinked your glass against his, the light reflecting off the surface as you smiled. “Maybe not.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. It was one of those moments where everything felt right — where Mikey’s energy wasn’t overwhelming, just... comforting.

After a few minutes, Mikey suddenly leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning to you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Alright, next round of the game. Who’s the most ridiculous in Toman?”

You smirked, already knowing the answer. “You, obviously.”

Mikey sat up straight, his expression mock-hurt. “Me? Ridiculous? I’ll have you know I’m a pillar of wisdom and sophistication.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure. You’re like a walking disaster waiting to happen.”

He grinned widely. “Exactly. And you love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Mikey had a way of making his chaos seem so charming.

The conversation shifted, and Mikey got more playful, asking questions about who could really take him down in a fight, who would survive a zombie apocalypse, and even who in Toman had the worst fashion sense (to which Mikey had been quick to answer, “Definitely me, because I’m too stylish to even handle.”)

But by the end of the day, as the sun began to set, Mikey had you laughing and smiling in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

His clinginess, his silly personality, and his never-ending ability to make you the center of his world — it was impossible not to fall for him even harder.

“So,” Mikey said as you both strolled back toward the familiar streets of your neighborhood, “about that date... I’m taking you out again soon. No excuses.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not letting me say no, are you?”

“Never,” Mikey replied, his voice full of conviction. “You’re mine.”

With that, you laughed, feeling the warmth of his presence wash over you again. “I guess I am.”

And just like that, Mikey claimed you, not just with his words, but with his laughter, his quirky charm, and that clingy little streak of his that made him impossible to resist.

___________________________________________________________________________

The moonlight bled through the half-open curtains, painting the room in soft silver. Everything was still — the house, the street, the city. Except for Mikey.

He couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t anything new. Sometimes the quiet felt too loud in his head, and he’d lie there with his arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling and thinking about things he didn’t really like to think about.

But tonight was different. You were there. Curled up in his bed with one of his pillows half-hugged and his gang jacket still wrapped around your shoulders.

He hadn’t meant for you to fall asleep in it. You’d just been hanging around after the shrine meeting, teasing him about his bad cooking and trying to steal the last rice cracker. You’d both ended up watching some old anime on his laptop, but while he was talking at full speed, you’d started nodding off.

Now, the only sound in the room was your quiet breathing.

Mikey turned on his side and watched you for a minute. The jacket looked huge on you — sleeves long enough to cover your hands, the collar a bit too wide, but it was warm and soft and unmistakably his.

A lazy smile crept onto his face.

“You look good in my jacket, y’know that?” he whispered, even though you probably weren’t awake. “Too good, actually. Kinda makes me wanna put another one on you. Just to be sure people really get the message.”

You stirred slightly, murmuring something sleepy and unintelligible, pulling the jacket closer around yourself like a blanket.

Mikey reached out, gently brushing some hair away from your face, voice even softer now. “You’re dangerous, [Name]. You make me soft.”

There wasn’t a trace of teasing in his tone now — just something quieter, more real.

“I could fight a hundred guys with a smile on my face, but the second you look at me like that, I forget how to act.”

His hand hovered near yours, not quite touching, just... close.

“You make this world feel like it’s not so heavy sometimes.”

You shifted again, eyes fluttering open for just a second. “...Manjiro?”

Mikey froze for a second, then leaned in a little with a lopsided smile. “Hey. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You blinked slowly, voice drowsy and muffled. “You’re staring.”

“You’re wearing my jacket,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

You gave him a sleepy look. “...You’re weird.”

Mikey laughed softly under his breath. “Takes one to love one.”

You smiled faintly, eyes already drifting closed again. “You’re clingy...”

“And you like it,” he replied, smug.

Before you could argue, Mikey leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then one to your lips — soft and careful, as if even half-asleep, you were something precious.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll stay up and guard you from the nightmares.”

You mumbled something about “being dramatic,” but Mikey just smiled and pulled the blanket up around your shoulders, letting you melt back into rest with his jacket wrapped tight around you — the clearest mark that you were his.

And in that quiet room, under the weight of moonlight and his own feelings, Mikey finally let himself breathe a little easier.

___________________________________________________________________________

You felt the shift in the bed before you even opened your eyes.

Mikey had moved. Not far, just enough for you to feel the absence of his warmth next to you. The room was still wrapped in shadows, the sky outside that deep pre-dawn blue that only appeared when the world was holding its breath between night and morning.

You mumbled into your pillow. “Manjiro?”

“Right here,” he answered softly from the edge of the bed, where he was lacing up his boots — already dressed in that half-wrinkled, “I woke up like this” biker look he pulled off way too easily.

You yawned and rolled over slowly, still wrapped in his jacket like a cocoon. “Why are you up? It’s not even light out.”

He turned his head slightly, gave you that small smile — the one that looked like he knew something you didn’t. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You blinked at him. “Again?”

He stood up, walked over to your side, crouching by the bed so he was level with your sleepy face. His hair was a little messy, eyes warm but bright with something restless.

“Wanna go for a ride?”

You stared at him, still half-asleep. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just you and me. City’s empty this early. You’ll like it.”

You snorted, burying your face into his jacket collar. “You know I was planning to skip school today anyway…”

Mikey grinned like that was exactly the answer he’d expected. “So, that’s a yes?”

You let out a long breath, then dragged yourself upright, hair tousled, eyes still a little heavy. “Yeah, okay. Just let me brush my teeth so you don’t crash the bike from second-hand sleep breath.”

He laughed, actually laughed, and leaned forward to press a kiss to your cheek before you shuffled toward the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting behind him on his bike, arms wrapped around his waist, the wind already picking up even though the sun hadn’t risen yet. The city was dead quiet, the roads almost too open — like it all belonged to the two of you.

You pressed your cheek against his back, still a little drowsy but content.

“You sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to keep me all to yourself?” you asked over the hum of the engine.

Mikey didn’t turn his head, but you could hear the grin in his voice. “Absolutely.”

You chuckled, holding on a little tighter. “Figures.”

As the wind rushed past you and the horizon slowly turned from deep blue to gold, Mikey sped up just a little — not recklessly, but enough to make your heart lift.

The city may have been asleep, but you weren’t.

Not with him.

And in that moment, wrapped in his jacket, hands on his ribs, heartbeat steady against your own — it felt like nothing could touch the two of you.

___________________________________________________________________________

The roar of the engine softened as Mikey finally slowed, pulling the bike to a stop near the edge of the wide riverbank. The sun was just beginning to rise, streaks of orange and pale gold bleeding across the sky like watercolors. The city was still far off in the distance, quiet and untouched.

You blinked against the light, stretching as you climbed off the bike, your fingers brushing against his back for balance.

“Where…?” you started to ask, but Mikey just glanced over his shoulder and gave you a half-smile.

“My favorite spot,” he said. “No one really comes out here. ‘Cept Draken sometimes, but he sleeps more than you do.”

You scoffed. “I don’t sleep that much.”

“You slept through me putting your shoes on,” he deadpanned, clearly amused. “Like a toddler.”

You glared at him, but your sleepy pout only made him grin wider. “Okay, fair.”

The river shimmered under the rising sun, its slow current gliding past with a peaceful rhythm. It wasn’t flashy — just still water, a crumbling concrete ledge, and an old vending machine nearby. But the moment you took a breath and let the quiet sink in, you understood.

There was something healing about it. It felt like time slowed down here.

Mikey sat down on the ledge and patted the space beside him. “C’mere.”

You dropped beside him, pulling his jacket tighter around your frame as the breeze picked up. He was still watching the water, eyes distant but soft.

“This is where I come when everything gets too loud,” he said after a long moment. “Gang stuff, family stuff… even my own thoughts sometimes. Out here, it’s just quiet. Real quiet.”

You nodded, not needing to say anything. The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It was grounding.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You ever get that too? Just wanna… vanish for a bit?”

You smiled faintly. “All the time. That’s why I said yes to this, even half-asleep.”

He chuckled. “Guess we both needed it, huh?”

Another silence settled in — comfortable, easy — until Mikey turned to face you completely.

“You really do look good in my jacket,” he murmured again, but this time with more meaning behind it. “Like you belong in it. Like you belong with me.”

You tilted your head. “That a confession, Manjiro?”

He grinned. “No, that was a statement. The confession happened when I stole that kiss back at the school.”

You laughed under your breath. “Right. Forgot how bold you are.”

“I’m just honest,” he said, eyes never leaving yours now. “I want you in my life. Every day. In my jacket, on my bike, next to me at meetings — all of it. So yeah, maybe I’m clingy. But I’ve already decided.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused and touched. “Decided what?”

He leaned in just a little, voice low but firm. “That you’re mine.”

There it was again — Mikey’s bluntness. He never said things halfway. But his voice carried something steadier now. No joke, no teasing — just truth.

You looked at him for a moment, heart a little full, then gently rested your head on his shoulder.

“Took you long enough to say it like that,” you whispered.

Mikey let out a soft breath of a laugh, his arm coming around your waist. “Yeah, yeah. I get there eventually.”

You stayed like that for a while, watching the sun rise over the water, wrapped in his warmth, the silence holding you both in place. And even though the world would get loud again — school, gang drama, real life — this moment was yours.

Just you and Mikey, where it was quiet.

Where everything made sense.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were both quiet again, the sun now fully risen and casting a warm, golden glow across the water. Mikey’s arm was still lazily draped around your waist, and your head rested lightly against his shoulder. It was one of those rare, slow mornings where the whole world seemed to hush just for you two.

Then, softly—almost like it slipped out—Mikey murmured, “I wanna marry you someday.”

You blinked, lifting your head slightly to see if he was joking. But he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was still fixed on the water, eyes unreadable for a second. There was no smirk, no laugh waiting behind his lips. Just quiet certainty.

“I mean it,” he continued, a little softer now. “Not right away or anything. Just… I’ve never really thought about the future like that. Not until you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. He didn’t say things like this often — not without a joke in his tone, not without that cheeky grin. But now he was just... honest. Serious in a way that made your breath catch.

You looked down for a second, cheeks flushing with warmth you couldn’t hide even if you wanted to. Then you smiled, wide and real, and reached for his hand.

“I can’t wait for that,” you whispered, eyes shining. “You, me, someday? That sounds perfect.”

Mikey finally looked at you then — and he beamed. Like he’d just won the world’s biggest prize. He kissed your hand, then stood up and offered his, the jacket falling perfectly into place over your shoulders again.

“Come on,” he said, that teasing sparkle returning to his eyes. “Let’s get breakfast. Or whatever meal it is when you skip school before it even starts.”

You laughed, taking his hand. “Sounds like a plan, fiancé.”

His grin? Dangerous.

“You better not say that around Draken. He’ll faint.”

___________________________________________________________________________

You were walking back through a narrow side street, heading toward a place Mikey swore had the “best melonpan in Tokyo,” when you turned a corner and—

“Oi,” a rough voice called out. “That jacket…”

You both paused.

A small group of older teens — four, maybe five guys — loitered near the vending machines, all wearing mismatched leather and chains. They weren’t Toman. Not even close.

One of them, clearly the leader, stepped forward with a sneer.

“That’s the Tokyo Manji Gang’s uniform, isn’t it?” he said, looking straight at you. “Don’t tell me they’ve got little girlfriends doing their laundry now.”

Mikey didn’t flinch. But he did step just slightly to the side, like he was getting ready to put himself between you and them.

You placed a hand lightly on his arm.

“I got this,” you said calmly.

He blinked. “What?”

You shrugged off his jacket slowly, folded it once, and handed it to him. Then you stepped forward, cracking your knuckles.

The leader scoffed. “What the hell are you—?”

You moved before he could finish the sentence — ducking low, sweeping his legs out with a sharp, practiced kick. He hit the ground with a surprised grunt, and before the others could even react, you’d already dropped two more with precise, fluid strikes.

Mikey stood there — wide-eyed, holding his own jacket — watching as you took out the last guy with a clean elbow to the gut and a twist that sent him sprawling.

You brushed your hands off casually, turned, and walked back to him like it was nothing.

“Sorry,” you said, slipping his jacket back on, still a little breathless. “Didn’t wanna get it dirty.”

Mikey stared at you.

Then blinked.

Then grinned — slow and completely floored.

“…Okay,” he said, sounding slightly dazed. “That was… hot.”

You laughed, grabbing his hand again. “Come on, melonpan, remember?”

He followed you wordlessly for a moment, then muttered under his breath, “I have to marry you.”

You just smiled to yourself, tugging him along.

___________________________________________________________________________

The smell of warm melonpan filled the air as you and Mikey sat down at a small, nearly-empty café just outside the neighborhood. The place had a cozy, nostalgic feel — the kind of place that wasn’t flashy, just serving good food. Mikey slouched a little in his seat, looking content, but there was still something in his eyes — a curiosity that hadn’t left since the moment you’d knocked out those guys in the alley.

You sipped your drink, watching him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Mikey leaned forward, his eyes wide with genuine interest. “You really didn’t even break a sweat. And it wasn’t like you were messing around either. You took ‘em down like… you’ve done it a thousand times.”

You bit your lip, setting your cup down. “I’ve had my share of… situations. You know, self-defense stuff.”

He nodded slowly, his face softening. “Yeah, but... why didn’t you tell me?”

You smiled a little, leaning back in your chair. “I guess I didn’t think it was that important.”

“Important?” Mikey leaned in, voice getting a little more intense. “You kicked their asses! You’re not just some random girl in my life, [Name]. You’re, well, you’re my girl and I… don’t like people messing with you.”

You felt your heart flutter a bit at the possessiveness in his voice. Even if it came across a bit bluntly, you knew it came from a good place.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” you teased, “But I’ll keep the really big fights for you.”

Mikey paused for a moment, his eyes softening, and he grinned. “I’m still amazed. Like… that was amazing. Seriously, I wasn’t even expecting that.”

You laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed, but also proud of your skills. “You never asked, Mikey. You just assumed I couldn’t take care of myself.”

He pouted for a second, clearly teasing. “Well, I’m a little slow sometimes.”

“Just a little?” You raised an eyebrow, and Mikey burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay, a lot. But still, that was so cool,” he said, still looking at you in awe. “I gotta say, I like knowing you’ve got my back, even when I don’t see it coming.”

“Well,” you smiled softly, “we’re in this together. Always.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The shrine was the usual spot for Toman meetings — surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the stone steps and the rising mist from the morning dew. The gang was already gathering, sitting on the steps and the edge of the stone platforms, awaiting Mikey’s arrival.

The air was cool, the distant sound of city life buzzing in the background, but at this time of morning, the world felt quiet. Almost serene, in a way.

You had arrived with Mikey, still wearing his jacket, your presence drawing a few curious glances from the gang as you approached.

Mikey seemed unbothered by it. If anything, he was grinning, his arm slung casually over your shoulder. His pride was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell he was practically bursting to share what had happened earlier.

“Alright, alright,” Mikey began as you both reached the group, a playful edge to his voice. “So, before we get into anything important… I gotta say something.”

Draken, sitting at the top of the stairs, shot Mikey a look. “What now?”

“I’ve gotta introduce you guys to the best fighter in the gang.” Mikey’s grin was mischievous. “The one who wiped the floor with five random punks today. [Name].”

There was a beat of silence before everyone burst out into laughter. Takemichi, ever the worried one, was the first to speak.

“You’re joking, right? There’s no way—”

Mikey’s grin only widened. “No joke. She took them down like she was born for it.”

The others turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief, and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “It wasn’t a big deal, guys. Just some guys talking crap.”

Draken, not one to back down from a challenge, raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re telling me you just knocked out five guys?”

You shrugged, feeling the nervous tension of all their stares. “I’ve had some training, that’s all.”

Emma, who had tagged along after your girls’ trip, chuckled as she leaned against a nearby pillar. “She’s being modest.”

“Self-defense, huh?” Mitsuya asked, clearly intrigued, eyeing you with a mix of respect and curiosity. “That’s impressive.”

You gave a slight nod. “Yeah, well, I’ve had to learn a few things. Just in case.”

The air shifted slightly — more respect, more admiration — and even Draken gave you an approving nod. “Guess we’ve got a real badass on our hands.”

Mikey, still standing next to you, looked absolutely thrilled. His eyes sparkled as he turned to the group. “You guys know how I like my gang, right? Strong, loyal, but also…” He let the words hang in the air, his grin widening. “...Not afraid to kick some ass. And now we’ve got a legit fighter on our side.”

The boys seemed impressed, and as the conversation moved forward, Mikey’s pride never seemed to wane. He kept leaning closer to you, occasionally nudging you with his elbow or stealing a glance at you, like he couldn’t stop showing off his girl.

It wasn’t long before Mikey finally sat down, pulling you onto the step beside him.

The gang had fallen into their usual chatter, but Mikey’s attention was still on you, his fingers lightly brushing against your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’ve really been riding the high from this, huh?”

Mikey grinned, looking almost like a kid on Christmas. “You’re my girl. Of course I’m proud.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was warm from his excitement. “I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.”

“Well, you didn’t have to,” Mikey said, his voice low but with that familiar cheekiness. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Before you could respond, Draken walked over, looking between you both with that big, knowing grin on his face.

“Alright, Mikey,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got your fighter. Now we just gotta keep her from running the whole damn gang, huh?”

The others, who had gathered near the steps, started chuckling.

Mikey just smirked, his eyes never leaving you. “Nah. She’s just gonna make sure no one messes with us.”

You shot Mikey a playful look. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

“Not a chance,” Mikey said, squeezing your hand gently.

___________________________________________________________________________

As the meeting began to progress, more questions started popping up. The group was still buzzing about your fight. You hadn’t expected this kind of attention, but it was fun to see everyone’s reactions.

“Alright, but seriously, what kind of training are we talking about here?” Takemichi asked, leaning in as if trying to figure out your secret. “You can’t just become that good overnight.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Boxing, some martial arts… a little bit of everything. Just wanted to make sure I can protect myself.”

Emma, always the one with a mischievous edge, nudged you with a smile. “You know, Mikey’s a little territorial, huh? Think he’ll keep the boys in line for you?”

“Stop it, Emma,” Mikey grumbled, though his eyes were still twinkling as he shot a look at you. “I don’t need to keep anyone in line. Not when she’s got it handled.”

Draken just shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “You guys are something else. Never thought I’d see Mikey all proud of his girl like this.”

Mikey puffed out his chest, not in arrogance but in pure pride. “She’s not just any girl. She’s my girl.”

The entire group seemed to settle into a comfortable quiet, respect mingling with that familiar teasing atmosphere. Mikey wasn’t just proud of you for your strength. It was everything you were — the way you fit into Toman, how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic world, yet still stood out. And Mikey? He was absolutely, unapologetically in love with that.

You leaned into his shoulder, letting the peaceful quiet settle around you again.

"Guess we're all in this together now," you murmured, a slight grin tugging at your lips.

"Always," Mikey said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Now, let’s get this meeting over with.

__________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had officially fallen apart.

It started small — just you and Emma whispering to each other at the edge of the group while Draken tried his best to keep the meeting serious. But then you laughed. Loud enough that heads turned.

That’s when Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, lounging beside you but already suspicious.

Emma leaned over, hand cupped around her mouth. “We’re playing ‘Toman Superlatives.’”

“...What?”

You grinned. “It’s like… ‘who would survive a zombie apocalypse,’ or ‘who has main character energy.’ That kinda thing.”

“You’re doing this during my meeting?”

“It’s Draken’s meeting,” Emma corrected.

Draken, overhearing, raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want it either.”

“Carry on,” Mikey said, waving a hand like a bored emperor — but leaning closer like he very much wanted to hear your answers.

Emma smirked. “Okay, okay—next one. Who’s most likely to cry at a sad movie?”

You pointed. “Takemichi.”

“WHY ME?!” Takemichi shouted from the sidelines.

Everyone nodded.

“Okay but true,” Chifuyu said, patting his back. “You cried at Spirited Away, bro.”

“It was emotional!” Takemichi protested.

Emma grinned. “Alright, who gives the best hugs?”

You tapped your chin, eyes flicking across the group. “Draken. He’s tall and warm. I feel like he smells nice.”

Draken blinked. “...Thanks?”

Mikey’s head whipped toward you. “Excuse me?!”

“You don’t smell like anything, Mikey,” you said sweetly.

“I smell like power and mystery,” he deadpanned.

“Power and mystery smells like gasoline and melon bread,” you teased.

The gang cackled. Even Draken cracked a smile.

Emma was dying, holding onto your arm. “Okay, okay—this one’s good. Who would be the most dramatic if their crush didn’t text back right away?”

Everyone pointed at Mikey.

He looked personally offended. “ME?! I don’t even text! I show up.”

“Exactly,” you said. “You showed up at my classroom window once because I didn’t answer.”

“You left me on read,” he said defensively.

“It was five minutes, Mikey.”

“Too long.”

More laughter rippled through the gang, and for once, even Mitsuya chuckled behind his usual calm smile.

Emma leaned in again, eyes twinkling. “Who’s most likely to flirt without realizing it?”

“Smiley,” you and Emma said in sync.

“He absolutely knows what he’s doing,” Mitsuya added. “He just pretends he doesn’t.”

Smiley raised his hands innocently. “I’m charming. It’s a problem.”

Mikey leaned toward you again. “Okay, your turn. Who would you call first if you were in trouble?”

You paused.

The teasing faded for just a second. You looked at Mikey — the way he was watching you, clearly waiting for the answer.

Your smile softened. “You.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“You’d be there in a second,” you said. “No questions asked. No matter what.”

The silence that followed was warm. No one teased. No one joked.

Mikey’s expression relaxed, his cheeky energy softening just enough to let the affection shine through.

“Damn right,” he said quietly, reaching out to tug the sleeve of his jacket up on you again. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”

Emma leaned against you, smiling. “Okay, but you still didn’t pick him for hottest.”

“I am the hottest,” Mikey muttered.

“Still Mitsuya,” you said under your breath.

“I heard that!”

The boys laughed again, and you nestled into Mikey’s side, his arm curling around your waist like it was second nature.

The meeting may have started serious, but this — these moments, with jokes, teasing, and your fingers brushing against his — this was what family felt like in Toman.

And you were finally, completely part of it.

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting finally broke apart, boys peeling off in pairs, loud voices fading into the evening air as they headed toward their bikes. You and Mikey lingered behind, walking down the long stone steps with his hand loosely curled around your wrist.

He hadn’t said much since the game ended.

That should’ve been your first clue.

You glanced at him — he wasn’t pouting exactly, but his mouth was pressed in that little line it made when he was pretending something didn’t bother him. His eyes were fixed ahead, lashes low, but you could feel the shift in energy like static.

“…You good?”

“Yep.”

Liar.

You stepped in front of him, halting him just before the last step. “You’re mad I didn’t say you were the hottest, aren’t you?”

He looked away with exaggerated disinterest. “I said I’m fine.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Manjirō.”

He finally looked at you — pout fully formed now. “I’m your boyfriend and you said Mitsuya.”

You tried not to smile. “Because Mitsuya is handsome.”

“Yeah, but I’m me,” he said, as if that alone should’ve won every category. “Your me.”

You laughed softly, stepping closer and brushing his hair back from his eyes. “You want me to kiss it better?”

His ears turned pink. “...Maybe.”

So you did.

Right there on the bottom step, you leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to the corner of his pouty mouth — then another, right on his lips. Slow and warm and full of something that made his hand tighten around your wrist again.

When you pulled back, his cheeks were a little red.

“Better?” you whispered.

He hummed. “One more. Just in case.”

You laughed again, but gave it to him — and this time, he pulled you with him as he turned and walked toward his bike, hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist like he wasn’t letting go ever again.

His motorbike was leaned against a tree near the edge of the shrine path, moonlight glinting off the chrome. You’d barely turned your head to look at it before Mikey tugged you in, sitting on the seat and pulling you between his legs with ease.

You rested your hands on his shoulders. “We’re not going yet, are we?”

“Nah,” he mumbled, arms sliding around your waist. “Just wanna sit with you.”

He leaned forward, head pressing to your stomach, sighing like he’d finally gotten what he wanted. Your fingers threaded through his hair automatically, soft and slow.

“You’re really that offended?”

“I’m not offended,” he muttered into your hoodie. “I just wanted you to say I’m hot.”

“You’re hot,” you said without missing a beat.

“Too late.”

“Mikey.”

He looked up, chin resting against your ribs. “I forgive you,” he said seriously. “But only if you ride with me tomorrow.”

You grinned. “Was planning to.”

His smile softened, hands still locked around your waist, holding you there like you might float away.

“You look good like this,” he said quietly. “With my jacket. With me.”

Your heart stuttered — again. He always did that. Just when you thought he was done being serious, he slipped in something so soft it nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“I like being yours, y’know,” you whispered.

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

You bent down, kissed his forehead gently. “Yeah.”

He looked like he was trying not to smile too wide — but failing.

“Then stay a little longer.”

You didn’t need to answer. You just curled into his lap, his jacket big enough to cover you both from the cool night air, the sounds of engines echoing in the distance, and the warmth of Mikey’s arms around you making the shrine feel like your own little world.

___________________________________________________________________________

The sky was still painted in sleepy pinks and quiet oranges when your phone buzzed.

[Mikey💀] "Outside. Get on. We’re skipping school."

You blinked at the message, then peeked out your window.

There he was.

Leaning against his prized motorbike, arms crossed, the wind tossing his blond hair slightly, looking way too proud of himself for someone who probably hadn’t slept more than four hours. His uniform jacket hung lazily off his shoulders, and his helmet dangled from two fingers like a promise.

Of trouble. And something softer.

You didn’t even hesitate.

By the time you slipped out your door, Mikey’s eyes lit up like you were the sunrise itself.

He held out the helmet immediately. “You took too long. I almost came up and carried you out.”

“You would’ve,” you said flatly.

“I should’ve,” he said, helping you clip the strap under your chin, his fingers brushing your jaw like he had to touch you.

“Where are we going?”

He smirked. “Wherever you want. But first, we ride.”

On the Road – Wind and Freedom

There was something about riding with Mikey that didn’t feel like real life. Maybe it was the way he drove — fast but sure, reckless but safe in his own weird way. Maybe it was the way the city blurred past, or how your arms fit perfectly around his middle, your cheek pressed against his back.

But most of all, it was the silence between you — warm, unspoken understanding that didn’t need filling.

The city faded. The buildings shrank. And then you reached it.

The Waterfront – His Favorite Place

The same quiet spot from before — the wide edge of the river where the world seemed to pause. The water stretched out smooth and silver under the early morning light, and the breeze was gentle, lifting Mikey’s hair as he cut the engine.

He parked, leaned the bike gently down, and held your hand as you hopped off — not letting go even when you were both standing.

“This place’s been mine forever,” he said softly, tugging you with him toward the edge. “But now it feels like it’s yours too.”

You smiled. “You always bring me to the quiet places.”

He looked at you — really looked. “You’re my quiet place.”

Your heart squeezed.

Then, as if he realized how serious that sounded, he added quickly, “And because you're hot. I wanna keep you where no one else sees you.”

You shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m yours,” he said smugly, sitting on the concrete ledge and pulling you into his lap without even asking.

You settled there, warm in the morning sun, his arms wound lazily around your waist again.

“You’re clingier than usual.”

He nodded against your shoulder. “Didn’t get enough time with you last night.”

You tilted your head. “We sat on your bike for almost two hours.”

“And it still wasn’t enough.”

You kissed the top of his head, your fingers playing with his hair.

He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded with sleep and affection. “Marry me.”

You blinked. “You’re doing this again?”

He grinned. “I meant it. Sooner or later, I’m locking you down.”

You leaned in and kissed him, slow and sure — then pulled back just far enough to whisper, “Then I hope it’s sooner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The breeze rolled in gentle waves, brushing across your skin like a whisper. Mikey rested his head on your shoulder, legs dangling over the concrete ledge where the river lapped below. For a long moment, he was quiet. Not out of awkwardness — just content.

But you could feel something stirring beneath the stillness.

He was thinking.

You didn’t rush him. Not with Mikey. When he was ready, he spoke.

“…Y’know when I was a kid,” he started, voice low, “I thought I had to be the strongest person alive.”

You turned your head slightly, eyes on his profile.

He wasn’t smiling now.

“I thought if I wasn’t strong… I’d lose everything. My brother. My gang. My people. So I decided I’d never show fear. Never slow down. Just keep pushing.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak. Letting him be.

He shifted slightly, arms still around your waist but his hands resting in his lap now.

“But you…” he said, almost like he was thinking out loud. “You don’t ask me to be strong. Or scary. You don’t even look at me like that.”

You swallowed. “Like what?”

“Like the rest of them do,” he said, glancing at you. “Like I’m some kind of unstoppable thing.”

You tilted your head. “You are strong, Mikey. But you’re also… kind. And funny. And stubborn. And incredibly dramatic.”

He smirked a little at that.

“And when you’re with me,” you continued, brushing your thumb across his knuckles, “you don’t have to be anything. Not the Invincible Mikey. Not the leader. Just… Manjirō.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he leaned in slowly and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s why I wanna marry you someday,” he murmured. “Not just ‘cause I love you. But ‘cause with you… I’m not afraid to just be me.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a second heartbeat.

You kissed him, soft and slow and full of every unspoken promise.

When you pulled back, you smiled against his lips. “Then I’ll wait for that day. As long as you want. I’m already yours, Manjirō.”

His arms slid tight around you again, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face into your neck with a sigh.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” he mumbled.

You rested your chin on his head. “Yeah. As long as you need.”

And so you sat — wrapped in each other, in the quiet, in the safety of being seen — as the river flowed and the morning sun painted the world golden.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been quiet for a while.

The kind of warm, sleepy silence only people who are deeply comfortable with each other can share. The sky was fully awake now, soft blue stretching above you, while the city remained distant, forgotten.

Mikey still had you wrapped up in his arms on his lap, chin tucked onto your shoulder like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

And then, out of nowhere—

“Okay. So if we had twins…”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” Mikey said, completely casual, like you’d been having this conversation. “If we had twins. A boy and a girl.”

You turned to look at him. “Where is this coming from?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “I think we’d make cute babies. It’s a valid thought.”

Your face burned. “Mikey—”

“Manjirō,” he corrected smugly.

You lightly smacked his chest. “You’re skipping way too many steps.”

He leaned his chin in his hand dramatically. “Don’t act like you didn’t just promise to marry me.”

You laughed, trying to hide your flustered smile. “Okay, fine. Twins. What are their names?”

“Glad you asked,” he said, sitting up straighter like he’d been waiting for this. “For the boy—Shin.”

“…Shin?”

“After Shinichiro. But just ‘Shin.’ Cool and strong. Simple. Like, ‘Oh no, Shin’s mad again.’ That kind of vibe.”

Your heart clenched a little at the mention of his brother, but the fondness in his voice made you smile.

“That’s actually… really sweet.”

“I know.” Then he grinned. “And for the girl…”

“Oh no.”

“Her name’s gonna be Pudding.”

You choked.

“Mikey—!”

“Manjirō,” he said again, grinning wider.

“You are not naming our child Pudding.”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “It’s cute. She’d be cute. Everyone loves pudding.”

You gave him your best unimpressed stare.

“…Fine,” he said with a fake sigh. “I’ll compromise. Her nickname can be Pudding. Her full name can be something like… Hikari. Or Yuzu.”

You blinked. “Yuzu’s really cute…”

He lit up. “Right?! Yuzu and Shin. Boom. Perfect.”

“Shin and Yuzu,” you repeated under your breath, testing the way it sounded. “That’s actually… adorable.”

Mikey leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky with the most self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Told you. I’m a genius.”

You glanced at him, at the messy hair and the way the morning light caught on his lashes, at the soft curve of his grin and the boyish glint in his eye.

“…You’d actually be a good dad,” you said, quieter than you meant to.

His smirk faded into something gentler.

“Only ‘cause I’d have you,” he said.

And just like that, the teasing melted back into something warmer. Realer.

He pulled you back into his lap again, hugging you like you were already his future, not just his present.

And maybe… you were.

___________________________________________________________________________

The same riverbank.

Years had passed, but Mikey still liked to come here. Still parked his bike at the edge of the slope, still kicked back with his hands behind his head, like he was king of the world and the sky existed just to amuse him.

But now, the boy was a man.

Still lazy-eyed and sun-touched, still with wind in his hair and that devil-may-care smirk — but something in him was more solid now. A spine of quiet strength. Eyes that had seen a little more but lost less. This time, he’d held onto what mattered.

And what mattered… was currently leaning her head on his shoulder, laughing at one of his stupid jokes.

You.

“You remember the first time I dragged you out here?” he asked, voice low but grinning.

“Dragged? I remember you begged me for a bike ride because you couldn’t sleep.”

“I did not beg,” he scoffed. “I persuaded.”

“Sure, Manjirō.”

He smirked, then nudged your temple with his own. “You were so nervous that night.”

“You tried to name our imaginary daughter Pudding.”

“She’s still on the list.”

You laughed, and for a while, you both just watched the river shimmer. The way it had back then. Before everything got bigger. Before Toman became a name whispered in every back alley with both fear and awe. Before Mikey became a living legend.

But with you, he was still the same dork who stole your fries and your heart.

So when he shifted beside you and said, “Close your eyes,” you did.

No questions. Just trust.

You felt him move. Heard the rustle of fabric. Then silence.

And then:

“Okay. Open.”

You turned — and your breath caught.

Mikey was sitting cross-legged in front of you, holding a ring between his fingers like it wasn’t heavy with meaning. Like it was just a ring. But his eyes… told a different story.

He wasn’t nervous.

He was glowing.

“I’m not gonna do some long speech,” he said. “I think you already know.”

He reached forward, gently taking your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he was trying to memorize them again.

“I love you. Like, idiotically much. Always have. Always will. I wanna eat breakfast with you every morning, and argue about baby names, and hold your hand when we’re eighty and I’ve got bad knees and saggy cheeks.”

You let out a teary laugh, but he was dead serious now.

“I wanna be your husband,” he said. “Not someday. Now.”

Then, softly:

“Marry me.”

The words settled between you like sunlight — warm and real and undeniable.

You nodded, barely able to speak. “Yes. Manjirō… yes.”

And that was it. He slipped the ring on like he’d always known where it belonged. Then pulled you in, kissed you like the world could end right there and he’d still be smiling.

Afterward, still holding you against his chest, he whispered:

“You’re gonna look so good in my last name.”

___________________________________________________________________________

If you thought being Mikey’s girlfriend was eventful, being his fiancée was like trying to plan a royal wedding during a gang meeting.

Which, unfortunately… was kind of exactly what it turned into.

You told Emma first — of course you did.

The moment you showed her the ring, her scream echoed across the café.

“HE FINALLY DID IT?!”

You barely had time to nod before she threw her arms around you, squealing like she’d just won the lottery. Which, to be fair, she kind of felt like she had.

“I’m going to plan everything,” she declared, already grabbing napkins to sketch ideas. “No—Mitsuya and I are going to plan everything. You’re going to have the most beautiful wedding Tokyo has ever seen.”

“Emma, I love you, but I don’t want to wear something with feathers and glitter—”

“Tasteful glitter,” she corrected.

Later, you told the rest of Toman at a casual gathering Mikey claimed would be “lowkey.”

Spoiler: it was not lowkey.

Mikey, with his usual subtlety, dropped the news mid-lunch like, “Oh yeah, I proposed. She said yes. Pass the soy sauce.”

Takemichi nearly choked on his noodles.

Smiley and Angry immediately started arguing about who would cry first at the wedding.

Draken just smirked and clapped Mikey on the back. “About time.”

Mitsuya pulled out a notebook. “When’s the fitting?”

You turned to Mikey. “You didn’t even ask if I wanted a big wedding.”

He shrugged, completely shameless. “Didn’t think you’d say no. Besides, if you did, we’d just ride off somewhere and do it alone.”

Everyone laughed—except you, because you knew he meant it.

__________________________________________________________________________

Your phone buzzed that night. A text from Mikey.

“You still wanna do this, right?”

You smiled, heart warm.

“Absolutely. Why?”

“Dunno. Just… can’t believe I get to marry you.”

You bit your lip, feeling the butterflies stir.

“You’re soft.”

“Only for you.”

“Go to sleep, Manjirō.”

“Can’t. Too excited.”

You stared at his last message for a moment. Then texted back:

“Me too.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The sun was golden over the shrine, soft and slow as it spilled across the worn stone steps. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, the air filled with faint traces of incense and the rustle of silk. It was traditional, timeless — just like Mikey wanted it.

Just like he always dreamed.

He stood with his hands tucked in the sleeves of his black montsuki, embroidered in silver with the Tokyo Manji insignia hidden within the family crest on the back. His hair was loose today, a little windswept, soft strands falling over his eyes.

He looked calm. He looked ready.

But his thumb was brushing circles against the inside of his sleeve.

Draken leaned in from behind him. “You nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Mikey said.

“You’re twitching.”

“I’m not twitching,” he said. Then blinked. “…Okay. Maybe a little.”

Draken smirked. “Good. Means you actually care.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it.

He was nervous.

Because you were everything.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were standing in front of the mirror as Emma adjusted the delicate hairpin at the side of your head, a deep breath caught somewhere in your chest.

“Okay, look at me,” she said, stepping back. “You are… breathtaking.”

You turned, eyes wide and shimmering. The white uchikake you wore shimmered with a subtle pattern of cranes and chrysanthemums — hand-sewn by Mitsuya, of course — and your obi was fastened in a delicate lotus bow, soft pink threading woven into it for good luck.

“Emma,” you whispered. “It’s really happening.”

She smiled, misty-eyed. “I know. He’s really doing it. You broke the curse, you know?”

You blinked. “Curse?”

“The Manjiro ‘never-gonna-marry-because-he-says-he’s-married-to-his-bike’ curse. You shattered it.”

You both laughed, clutching each other’s hands tightly.

Then, the doors opened.

The shrine was quiet — not tense, just reverent.

Toman members lined both sides of the main path in formal black. No one cracked jokes. Even Smiley looked serious. Even Baji’s ghost, if he were there, would’ve stayed quiet out of respect.

Because when Mikey turned and saw you walking toward him — radiant, sure, the very image of love and calm and everything he’d never deserved but somehow got — the whole world stilled.

His breath caught.

His heart ached in the best way.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Draken nudged him.

“You look like a kid who just got all the candy.”

He ignored him.

Because you had reached him. You were standing in front of him. You were about to become his wife.

And Mikey, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel like the leader of anything.

He just felt yours.

The priest read the words. You exchanged sake cups. You bowed together before the altar.

And when Mikey turned to face you again, his voice was soft — but his words landed like thunder.

“I was a storm before you,” he said, not caring about tradition. “But you… you make me want peace. Every day. And I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.”

You didn’t even try to stop the tears. You smiled through them.

“I already feel like your wife,” you whispered. “But I’m so, so happy to be it in name too.”

He kissed you then — traditional timing be damned — and the crowd broke into quiet, reverent cheers.

Toman, at his back.

His future, in his arms.

___________________________________________________________________________

The room was quiet.

Not silent — the sound of water in the garden beyond the sliding doors still trickled peacefully, and the soft rustle of silk and linen moved as Mikey sat behind you, undoing the intricate layers of your wedding attire with slow, careful hands.

Neither of you had spoken much since the reception ended.

He didn’t need to.

The moment you stepped through the door of the traditional inn he’d chosen — away from the speeches, the dancing, the playful shouting of drunk Toman boys — Mikey had taken your hand and held it like it was the only thing grounding him to the earth.

“You’re really mine now,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the back of your shoulder.

You turned in his arms, hands against his chest. “I was always yours, Manjirō.”

He looked at you like he still couldn’t believe it. Like even now, after everything, you were a dream he hadn’t quite earned. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the last traces of makeup, the last glitter from Emma’s wild ceremony touch-ups.

“You looked beautiful today,” he said. “But not as beautiful as you do right now.”

You smiled, eyes shining. “You said that during the vows.”

“I meant it then, too.”

And then, softly:

“Can I hold you? Like… really hold you?”

You nodded, and the two of you lay down together on the futon. No rush. No urgency.

Just the weight of forever, finally within reach.

He kissed you slow. Not like the goofy kisses he’d steal at the shrine, or the teasing ones on your neck during bike rides. This was different. Intentional. Reverent.

He kissed you like a vow.

Fingers laced with yours. Arms around your waist. His voice in your ear, quiet and slightly rough:

“You’re my home.”

Morning came gently.

He was already awake, blinking at the ceiling with your hand resting over his bare chest, thumb twitching slightly in your sleep.

He glanced at you.

His wife.

His light.

His everything.

“Still here,” he murmured, smiling faintly.

You stirred, squinting at him. “Where else would I go?”

Mikey grinned, leaning in to steal a lazy, sleepy kiss. “Just checking.”

The years ahead stretched out wide and open — with Toman standing strong, with people he trusted at his side, and with you curled up next to him in his arms. For once, the future didn’t look heavy.

It looked like peace.

It looked like breakfast together in oversized shirts and soft hair and his jacket hanging next to your coat on the wall. Like you teasing him for talking in his sleep. Like picking baby names again on the balcony in the evening. Like safety.

And every now and then — when the world outside got loud — he’d pull you close and murmur in your ear like he did on the first night:

“Say it again.”

And you would.

“I love you, Manjirō.”

Always.

[thestraydogsarehere]

Tokyo Revenger Headcanons as lil treat (for me)

Romantic Fluff? gn!reader. all characters are 18+.

Characters: Mikey, Shinichiro, Chifuyu, Baji, Kazutora, Izana, Souya, Nahoya (this is partially self indulgent...) (

POV: they have a crush on you and you ask them if they want a "kiss". Their reactions when you hand them a hershey kiss.

Mikey (Manjiro Sano)

-the speed at which Mikey responds with a blunt "yes" to your question "do you want a kiss?" would be alarming to most.

-you dont notice, you know how enthusiastic he is about snacks. bro loves sweet little treats. (you are unaware of his feelings)

-when you hold out a piece of candy Mikey is stunned for a moment. he has to pause and recollect himself internally.

-part of him his still pretty excited because fuck yeah a sweet treat!!!!

-the other is like damn... i wanted a lil smooch.

-he sighs before taking the chocolate and looking at it for a few seconds.

-he then quickly kisses you on the cheek and nonchalantly throws the chocolate in his mouth.

-you look at him confused before touching your cheek.

you: what was that for?????

mikey: payback.

Shinichiro Sano

-this man looks at you with so much hope in his eyes as you ask "do you want a kiss?"

-after asking you out 20 something times, and being rejected each time, are you finally coming around?!?!

-that hope is quickly shattered when you hold up a chocolate kiss, all while still scrolling through your phone and not looking at him.

-this was actually worse than any other blatant date rejection he faced from you.

-he huffs in disappointment as he snatches the piece of chocolate from you and eats it.

-you notice how he snatches it and finally look at him, one eyebrow raised. you let out a light chuckle.

-he looks away from you so you don't see the light blush across his cheeks.

-bro can't catch a break here.....

Shinichiro: you do this on purpose, don't you?

you: yeah.

Chifuyu Matsuno

-dude has been in love with you forever and normally puts on this tough persona.

-this quickly fades when you do anything cute lol.

-he has the most flustered look on his face when you ask him "do you want a kiss?" and smile at him.

-losing his marbles internally, trying not to literally pass out.

-all he can stammer out is a weak "u-uhh... s-sure?"

-he closes his eyes and waits to feel your lips against his.

-is thoroughly confused when he feels a piece of aluminum wrapped candy.

-he looks at the kiss and is disappointed but not upset.

-he takes it and tries to compose himself while chewing it, he looks away as his cheeks are still tinted pink.

-you smirk and actually end up giving him a quick smooch on the cheek.

Chifuyu: can't do it anymore. i need to marry you right now...

you: i will allow you the pleasure of marrying me, but only if you answer my riddles three.

Chifuyu: on second thought

Keisuke Baji

-as you are sitting there eating chocolate kisses you turn to Baji and ask "do you want a kiss?"

-he eyes the bag of chocolates and responds "fuck yeah!" with that grin.

-you uno reverse this mf and give him a kiss on the cheek.

-he stares at you for a moment before glancing back and forth between you and the chocolates

-"dont fuck with me like that give me some damn chocolate" he says as he snatches the bag and now refuses to share.

-you keep trying to grab the bag back but he keeps holding it out of reach, you just pout and whine.

-eventually you have to play dirty and bite his arm.

-he is oblivious to his feelings until he yelps in pain but also... kinda likes it...

Baji: hold up... do that again.

you: um... why?

Baji: science... and stuff.

you: ...didnt you fail science.

Kazutora Hanemiya

-you love your personal space. Kazutora also loves your personal space.

-you have never known peace since meeting him, now is no different.

-you're eating a bag of chocolate kisses next to you alone while reading and sitting under a tree.

-this guy will pick up the candy and sit in its place, press his side firmly against you and place the bag in his lap.

-you give an annoyed sigh as you look at him before grabbing more candy.

-"whatcha reading?" he'd ask as he unwraps some pieces and tosses them in his mouth.

-"how to mind my business 101. h-hey!! i didnt say you could have some!" you say as you snatch the bag.

-you place the bag on your other side and take pieces from it.

-he doesnt like this bc tf??? sharing is caring bitch, whats yours is his and whats his is... well, also his. he doesnt share.

-he stares for a moment before using his hand to cup your cheek and make you face him.

-as you attempt to protest he gently kisses you on the lips, holding it for a few moments.

-as he pulls away and looks at your blushing face, he holds up the candy bag he snatched and holds it on the other side of himself and eats candy, like nothing happened.

-you huff a mumbled "i hate you"

-as you attempt to go back to reading your book, he places his free hand on your inner thigh.

-he likes to hold your attention.

you: can you go ten minutes without touching me???

Kazutora: can you stop reading glorified porn?

you: can you get your dad to love you?

Kazutora: ...

Kazutora: i'll get you.

Izana Kurokawa

-you love teasing and playing pranks, though they never go as planned with him.

-"do you want a kiss?" as you look at the man sitting next to you on the couch, his arm resting over the back of the couch as you watched a movie.

-"no, thanks." he says without sparing you a glance, your expression turns to confusion. "huh?"

-"i said no, thanks." you just stare at him for several moments disappointed and frustrated.

-he turns to you and smiles. "was that the wrong answer?" you nod.

-"was i supposed to say yes?" you nod once more with a smile.

-"is it so you can give me a piece of chocolate while im expecting an intimate moment?"

-you frown and slowly do a thumbs down and shake your head.

-you looked back to the tv and watched as you were disappointed.

-he sighs and decides to play along.

Izana: why yes, i would love a kiss.

you: yay!!! *hands him a chocolate kiss*

Izana: oh man, wasnt expecting this, i thought you were going to kiss me. on the mouth. perhaps with tongue.

you: booooo 👎🏻

Izana: also the chocolates half melted.

you: punishment.

Izana: for?

you: crimes against humanity.

Souya Kawata (Angry)

-this guy loves you so so so much and is so shy and soft about it. he doesnt know how or when to tell you.

-you know he does, you just give him time to get the courage to ask you out.

-you decide to play the prank, and you ask "do you want a kiss?"

-he immediately blushes, he looks so nervous and happy at the same time.

-the way he slowly nods with pure hope in his eyes and heart would give anyone a reason to live.

-you look into this literal angels eyes and cannot bring yourself to play the prank.

-if you broke his heart in this moment and made him even remotely sad, the guilt would eat you alive.

-you end up giving him an actual kiss on the lips, short, soft, and sweet.

-he is blushing so hard and looking at you like you are an angel from heaven.

-you look away flustered as you just handed him the whole bag of chocolates.

-you bought them for yourself and for the prank but now you have to hand everything you own to him.

Souya: uh... thanks...

you: dont mention it.

Souya: are you mad...?

you: i will give you every bit of my being right here and right now.

Souya: ...???

Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

-Nahoya likes making playful jabs at you.

-you get mixed signals from him, does he wanna marry you or fist fight you?

-probably both.

-you werent paying much attention as he sat at the other end of the couch from you.

-you, him, and souya are roommates. you all hang out occasionally.

-you are peacefully eating chocolate kisses and chilling while playing on your switch.

-"are ya winnin, son?" he asks playfully.

-"yeah, dad." you retort.

-"thats 'daddy' to you, sweetheart."

-"and im about to commit patricide." you snip playfully.

-he chuckles before scooting to watch you play mario kart.

-"you suck at this game." "eat my foot" "not into that." "murder is still on the table here, Nahoya."

-he then starts tapping at buttons on your switch while you are playing.

-you end up losing and glare at him. he chuckles at you as if he won this round.

-you hold up the bag of kisses in an attempt to bribe him to leave you alone.

you: you want a kiss?

Nahoya: with or without tongue?

you: i bite.

Nahoya: kinky.

you: IM GOING TO KILL YOU

[burntmarshmallowchishiya]

Bonten/Kanto Mikey x Fem Y/N Smut Visual

if these links don't work on your phone u may need to have a twitter account or use a laptop/computer

Warning: fingering, ass slapping, mild spit, rough s*x

fingering you til your legs shake

multitasking

the morning after

on his lap

you need to be disciplined by your leader

taking his frustration and anger out on you

when he's working in his office and you're needy

return to the masterlist

[iamfandomtrashandimproud]

Y/N: *Crying as everything around them is on fire*

Mikey: *Embraces Y/N* Baby, I knew you and I will die together someday.

Mikey: *Points at the farthest corner* Sanzu, you die over there.

[r3yk]

Bonten! Manjiro Sano x ‘wife’ reader

slight suggestive but Sanzu interrupts it.

You were baking something in the penthouse you shared with mikey while he bossed his executives around at Bonten Headquarters just below the house. Eventually, silence fell over the penthouse. They all left, bidding him goodbye before he locked up and got back to you upstairs.

He stood in front of the door for a while, before pulling out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lighting one up and taking a quick drag, he walked into the living room and stopped in his tracks as he sees you bake something. From the open space living room to the kitchen isle he could see everything while you were focused on a stain on the hot plates.

He approached you, stopping a couple of feet behind you as he leaned against the wall, continuing to puff away at his cigarette. For a few minutes, he just watched you silently. He could faintly hear the noise of the city outside, cars honking and people talking loudly enjoying their lives.

You then smelled Mikey’s cigarette. He continued to smoke silently, breathing out white smoke into the air as his onyx eyes silently watched you. It was almost surprising how the smell didn't hit you earlier, considering you're not even sure how long he's been standing behind you.

“Manjiro you’re back!” You exclaimed turning around to find him behind you.

"Hm.." he replied quietly. A small cloud of smoke escaped his lips as he watched you turn towards him. He flicked away the bit of ash that clung to the end of his cigarette, his gaze slowly moving down your figure and back up to your face.

“How was your meeting ?”

"Boring, as usual."

He says with a soft huff, taking another quick drag at his cigarette. It was clear from the way his eyes were slightly narrowed and the heavy bags under them that the meeting really was boring.

"The guys never shut up." He finished saying before you giggles.

“yeah i heard, Sanzu has to have a hearing problem. He’s always yelling.” He chuckled lowly in response to that. Sanzu was one of the loudest members, that's for sure.

"You could hear that all the way up here?" You only nod, smiling at him, before taking off your apron and hug him. He placed his free hand around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest as his black eyes slowly closed. The light scent of his cologne filled your nose as you pressed your cheek into his chest, hearing his slow and steady heartbeat.

He rested his chin on the top of your head, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he threw his cigarette into an ash tray nearby.

“you should stop smoking so much cigarettes..” You mumble into his embrace. He chuckled lowly again, gently pushing your hair back to see your face. A slight amused smile tugged up the corners of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"Why should I? It’s relaxing."

“Because i don’t want future husband in bad shape! so much that he can’t run at least 10minutes! Plus there are other ways to relax.” The word 'husband' causes his expression to soften a little, a subtle change but you probably noticed since you look up at him. Something about the way you said it, made his heart flutter a little.

"I'm only in my 20s. I'll be fine. Besides, you worry too much. I'm completely fine."

It was at moments like this, where you could see he was just a 27 year old adult, having to grow up too fast. The stress from running a gang was probably killing him in the inside.

“I’m also in my 20s but i bake you Doryakis every week like a housewife” He laughed quietly, his grip around your waist getting a little tighter.

"What are you insinuating?"

He teased, the corners of his mouth still pulled up in a subtle smile. He was trying to make it seem like he was offended, but it was clear through his amused tone that he was only messing around with you.

“We all act older sometimes.” He hums quietly, nodding at your words. A soft huff escapes his lips as he looks down at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"We seem older alright. You sometimes act like my nagging housewife." You giggle at what he just said, hitting his shoulder gently.

“Hey! you like it!”

"Oh, I do."

He replied, chuckling softly. He leaned back against the wall behind him, keeping a firm hold on your waist and pulling you with him as he did so.

"You just worry about me too much. I'm completely fine. You don't have to be so protective."

“i can’t, it’s like maternal instincts !” He raises an eyebrow at that. Something about the word 'maternal' being used to describe you, makes him feel a weird fluttering in his chest. He gently pulled you closer, his eyes glancing down at you.

"Maternal instinct, huh?" You nod. He hummed, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as something told him you probably had a past that involved looking after others.

"You're saying it's your job to look after me and worry about me because of some 'maternal instinct'? Is that it?"

“Of course not! it’s because i love you too.” You frowned. The corners of his mouth pull up into a small smile. He loved it when you got all defensive, it was just so cute. He reached out and gently gripped your chin between his slender fingers, forcing you to look up at him as he spoke softly.

"I know. I'm just messing with you, Doll."

“No kisses for you.” You stood on your ground and pulled away to take the cupcakes out of the oven. He chuckled lowly, watching as you turned your back to him and walked towards the oven. He pushed himself off the wall, slowly stalking up behind you. He came to a stop behind you as you pulled open the oven, letting his arms snake around your waist and pulling you against his chest. He leaned down and rested his chin on your shoulder, his chest pressed against your back.

"Oh come on, sweetheart. Don't be like that."

“No.” He huffed, the sound a playful one as he continued to hold you against him. He lightly nuzzled into the crook of your neck, causing the ends of his hair to brush against your skin, before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"You're stubborn."

“Mikey..” You shivered at the kisses he gave you, placing them exactly on the right spots. He smirked against your skin. This was how it goes, you two would bicker and argue for a while, before he would eventually make you cave. You couldn't really stay mad at him for long. He always got you to crack. He always got what he wanted.

His grip around your waist tightened gently as his lips left a trail of soft kisses up the side of your neck before stopping by your ear.

"Yes, wifey?"

“Stop before we do something else...” You say out of breath.

"Do something else?" He asked. He knew exactly what you meant by that, but he could never resist playing dumb when you started to get all flustered.

"And what would that be?"

“Stop..” You whine. He chuckled against your skin, a smug, amused smirk tugged at his lips. He wasn't going to stop just yet, not when he was having so much fun toying with you like this.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart. You're gonna have to be specific."

One arm stays wrapped around you, keeping you pressed against his chest while the other came up underneath your shirt. That made you moan very silently. His smirk widens a little bit. The sound of your soft moan was just so cute, he honestly found it hard to resist the urge pull you back with him to the bedroom instead of the kitchen.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

“Nothing, sorry..” You whine. He hums, the smirk still present on his lips. He knew you were getting more and more flustered, as you always do in these situations. And he loves it. He loves getting you all worked up like this. The sight and sound of your flushed face and shaky voice made him want you all to himself.

"Sorry for what, hm? Sorry you got all worked up just because I'm teasing you a little?" Your eyes widen, as you see Sanzu in the reflection of the glass cabinet.

“Sanzu is here..” You manage to mumble. He stops in his tracks, his smirk fading at the mention of Sanzu. He looks up, following your gaze to the cabinets where he sees Sanzu's reflection for a split second before he ducks out of sight. It was almost like he knew he got caught.

He huffed, a small scowl on his face as he muttered under his breath.

"The hell is he doing here…" He released you, gently pushing your hair back before placing a quick kiss on your forehead. He didn't seem too pleased with Sanzu's presence, which probably meant it was something important.

"Stay here. I'm going to find out what the hell he wants…"

Yeah Sanzu just cockblocked Mikey during you guys kissing session.

[justauthoring]

I really like your Tokyo revengers He’s Taken scenario. What if it happened in reverse where someone told the boys that they would be a better fit for reader <3

TOKYO REVENGERS - UM, SHE'S TAKEN?

includes: manjiro "mikey" sano, hanma shuji, baji keisuke and kazutora hanemiya all include xfem!reader!

a/n: this is so late but i felt i should actually do a request for once :) and i always love me some jealous boys!

MIKEY:

The audacity of this man.

That was all Mikey could think.

Did he not know who he was? Did he not know who you were dating? The Invisible Mikey, Toman's Leader and the most handsome boy you knew?

Clearly not.

Frowning, Mikey watches with barely concealed disdain as your classmate (the one you’ve been complaining to him about for weeks now) follows you outside of the school. He couldn’t always pick you up from school with Toman business and the like, but today he’d made sure he’d be able to after you’d texted him the day before that your annoying classmate had proceeded to take his infatuation with you a step further and follow you out of school. It had taken you great convincing to get him not to ‘walk you home’ as he so eloquently put it – stalking more like it – and though you’d tried to play it off, Mikey knew how scared you were.

The second your eyes fall on Mikey making his way over to you, he sees the instant relief that floods through them. Despite everything, Mikey can't help but feel slightly smug at that, hands shoved nonchalantly in his pockets as he crosses the distance over to you.

"Y/N-channn!" He calls out, arms stretched out towards you and with a single brief glance at the boy next to you, you all but race towards him, allowing yourself to fall into his arms. Mikey hates the way he feels you shake slightly beneath his fingertips, and he throws a not-so-subtle glare the classmates way, who – as he figured – is glaring right back at him.

"Y/N," the classmate calls, and Mikey's eyes narrow at his familiarity when regarding you. "Who's this?"

You lean back from his hug, and Mikey can see you look rather annoyed at the question – clearly, you've told him this before.

"Mikey," Mikey cuts in dryly, "her boyfriend."

And he must really not know who Mikey is because he has the gall to laugh.

"Boyfriend?" Haru laughs, mockingly and loudly, head thrown back as you cast a quick glance up at Mikey in uncertainy, trying to gauge he's reaction. Truthfully, Mikey looks unphased. "I thought you were joking about that, Y/N."

And then Haru steps forward, moving towards you; "I mean, you and me make a much better–"

It happens in a flash. Suddenly, you're no longer in Mikey's arms and rather set gently behind him, Mikey’s body blocking your view as Haru's hand that was outstretched towards you is now tightly grasped in Mikey's fist. A quick glance at Haru's face, and you can tell that Mikey's grip is tight, his face twisting with pain.

"Did I forget to mention?" Mikey smiles, "I'm also the leader of Toman."

Haru's eyes widen and he looks scared–well, shitless.

Mikey's grip tightens, finding the way all colour leaves Haru's face rather amusing and the way the panic wells with pain as Mikey bends his arm to the point of just being about to break.

"Now, what was that about you and Y/N-chan being a better match?"

"I was wrong!" Haru cries, voice pitching pathetically, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"Don't apologize to me," Mikey shrugs, "apologize to Y/N-chan for making her so uncomfortable for the past few weeks."

Slowly, Mikey takes a step back, allowing you to fall in the view of Haru again, who, near crying, falls to his knees. "I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"

Cheeks red slightly in embarrassment, you turn to Mikey.

He lets go with ease, Haru falling to the ground with one last cry, before Mikey makes his way to you, pulling you back into his arms with a wide grin.

"Let's go eat!" Mikey calls out with a cheer, snuggling into you. "I want you to feed me!"

HANMA:

"I mean, you're no good for her."

There's a beat. One long, single beat of silence before Hanma can't hold himself back anymore and he burst into laughter.

You, whose stood next to him, looks at him in disbelief, eyes widening as Hanma all but cackles in response to Asahi's words. Asahi, to be fair, looks just a stunned, and with a frown, you step towards your boyfriend, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Shuji!" You hiss, grip tightening on him.

He falls quiet at that, letting his eyes drift across you briefly, taking in the worried look in your eyes and the laughter stops at that. Hanma lets his eyes fall back on this boy, Asahi apparently, and the frown deepens – you were scared of this guy? He looked like wind might blow him over.

Besides, didn't you trust him to protect you?

A single glance back at you, and you're still throwing worried glances at Asahi, shuffled close to his side.

Guess he had something else to prove then.

"That's funny," Hanma finally speaks up, letting his eyes fall on Asahi with disinterest. "Hilarious actually." But all the humour has left his body, and Hanma simply stares back at the boy with a straight face.

Asahi falters, just slightly.

"I-I mean, you're a deliquent!" He calls out, gesturning in front of him at Hanma, before his eyes fall on you. "I mean, surely you can see that being with him will be nothing but a bad influence. If you were–"

Hanma steps in front of you, blocking you effectively from him.

"You don't get to talk to her," Hanma states rather bluntly.

Asahi turns to him, lips parting.

"You're not worthy enough to talk to her, pipsqueak. So let's keep this between you and me, huh?"

The air changes, thickens, and although you can't see it, you can practically sense as Asahi grows nervous, registering the glint in Hanma's gaze as he stares him down.

"I mean, surely, if you knew I was a... what did you say? Delinquent." Hanma snorts, "you think you'd have the brains to realize I'm not someone to mess with. And I don't take kindly to idiots like you trying to tell me who my girl should or shouldn't be with."

Hanma takes a step forward then, towering over the boy whose skin has grown pale, eyes flooding with fear as he stares up at Hanma.

"I especially don't take kindly to you scaring my girl either."

"I-I–"

Grabbing Asahi by the collar of his jacket, Asahi falls silent as Hanma pulls him up until he's standing on the tip of his toes, kicking his feet beneath him.

"But it seems I screwed up too, huh? My girl shouldn't have to be afraid because she should know I'd never let anyone touch her, let alone look at her if they made her uncomfortable."

There's a pause and Hanma's gaze grows wild as his fist slowly raises beside him, Asahi's cries of panic and pleads of mercy simply a background noise.

"So it looks like I gotta show her why."

BAJI:

"You're loud."

Well, Baji guessed he couldn't necessarily argue with that.

"You're rash."

That, too... maybe.

"You're not very smart."

Uh, ouch.

"You act without thinking. It could get Y/N hurt."

Okay, well that was just rude.

You were always Baji's top priority.

Well, that and fighting. But, still.

"I think I'd be a much better fit for her."

Baji should've figured this is where the conversation was going. Letting his eyes drift across the boy stood in front of him, he takes in the sight of his Toman uniform. He doesn't readily recognize the boy, so he's certainly not in his division.

Ballsy, he'd admit.

But stupid nonetheless.

He's probably in Mitsuya's division, Baji laughs to himself.

Well, not for much longer.

"I'll take your silence as a sign you agree with me–"

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions," Baji chuckles, grinning down widely at the boy. "What makes you think you're so great for Y/N? I know she's happy with me."

Lips parting, the boy pauses; "what?"

"You listed off all the reasons why you think I'm not a good fit for her, right?" He quirks a brow, and the boy nods. "So, tell me why you think you're a good match for her. You win, I'll break up with Y/N. And if you lose... well, needless to say." With a wide grin, Baji cracks his knuckles, baring his fists down at the boy.

The boys eyes widen, and he fumbles for a second, before he steels himself, inhaling deeply.

"Well, I'm smart, for one–"

"Wrong," Baji cuts in, "Y/N doesn't like smart guys. Why else would she have gone for me?"

Faltering, the boy shakes his head; "w-well, I'm a good cook–"

"Y/N prefers cooking herself," Baji shakes his head. "It's her passion."

Cheeks redenning, the boy rushes to add; "I-I'm! I'm strong!"

Baji just laughs; "not as strong as me. You're not even a vice captain of Toman!"

Thoroughly embarrassed, the boy hesitates, face bright red.

"Looks like you lose," Baji sings, stepping towards the boy. "I mean, if you really knew Y/N, you'd know the most important thing."

"W-What?"

"That none of that matters because she loves me!"

"You can't just–"

He never finishes what he's about to say before a fist makes contact with his cheek, knocking him off his feet and sending him straight to the ground.

Baji glances down at him with a blink.

"Strong my ass."

He makes a move toward him, before;

"Keisuke!"

Eyes lighting up, Baji spins, grinning at the sight of you. "Y/N!"

You fall in front of him, eyes flickering from the boy groaning on the ground back to him, "did you get in another fight again?"

Baji shrugs; "the guy deserved it. Not much of a fight either.”

And your eyes fall back on the boy on the ground and there's a flicker of hope where he thinks you might help but, but then after a moment you follow Baji's lead, shrugging, letting him take your hand in his before leading him off.

Guess Baji was right – you really did love him.

KAZUTORA:

"I mean, didn't you go to juvie?"

Frowning, Kazutora glares at the man, Daiki as he'd introduced himself as, in front of him. He was apparently a co-worker of yours, though Kazutora's never heard you talk about him before.

Stuck at this party your work was holding for you as a celebration for the promotion you'd received and your excellent work at the company, Kazutora had gotten a whole half hour of your time before you'd been whisked off by two woman, you offering an apologetic smile over your shoulder in response.

At the time, Kazutora hadn't minded – this night was for you after all and he wanted you to enjoy it.

Now, though? He desperately wanted to leave.

"How do you even know that?" Kazutora asks, his patience thin.

"I did some research when Y/N mentioned your name," Daiki shrugs. "Of course, when she mentioned you she hadn't mentioned that."

It's obviously meant as a jab. But Kazutora knew you weren't embarrassed of him – at least, he'd been pretty sure of that.

"Well, it's not really any of your business is it?" Kazutora cuts in, barely able to contain the snide in his tone. He barely liked socializing with people anyway, especially strangers, but he'd gone for you and because he wanted to be apart of your celebration. It was the least he could do after all you'd done for him.

But now he wishes he’d stayed home if he had to continue dealing with this guy.

"Still," Daiki insists, "aren't you embarrassed? I mean, such an upstanding woman... it's a wonder why she ever chose you."

"I chose him because I love him for him," you cut in and Kazutora’s eyes widen, glancing over his shoulder to see you making your way over to him. You look absolutely stunning, dressed in a floor length Y/F/C dress and when you notice his eyes on you, you smile at him, before it falters as you turn back to glance at your coworker. "But I hardly think that's any of your business anyways."

You fall next to Kazutora, wrapping your arm around his waist as you fall into his side, and the second you do, you squeeze Kazutora's side, and he realizes you're trying to reassure him.

"Y/N–!"

"Honestly, Daiki," you breathe out, voice coming out purposely exasperated as you roll your eyes. "I've had this conversation with you multiple times. I am happily in a relationship and your obsession with my personal affairs is strange and inappropriate. Given my promotion, I could easily have you fired."

Kazutora watches as the man's eyes widen, cheeks bleeding red as he shakes his head; "my-my apologies. Please, you don't have to go that far. I'll... I'll make sure I stop."

You raise a brow, holding the man with bated breath for a moment, before you nod. "Just don't let it happen again."

Daiki scurries off without another word, desperate to get away and Kazutora watches as you let out a sigh, shoulders falling as you shift, coming to stand in front of him, hands falling on his hips.

"I'm sorry about him. He's been... annoyingly persistant about asking me out for the past bit. I thought he'd have stopped when I reported him last week but when I saw him talking to you just now, I realized he hadn't."

Kazutora glances down at you, meeting your gaze.

You understand what he's trying to say before he even does; "nuh-uh," you shake your head, tugging him closer to you. "Don't let a word that idiot says get to you. He's just a pervert anyways. He spends half of his time looking down my shirt and I would never want to be with someone like him over you."

Biting his lips, Kazutora smiles softly; "I love you."

"I love you too," you grin, before slipping your hand into his. "Now, come on, I want to introduce you to my friends."