#RIP mikey he feels left out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

candyeager · 20 days ago

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𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

— sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader

PART TWO 10.1k words

short summary. in which your heartbreak over Mikey pulls you into the dangerous and irresistible orbit of Bonten's Number Two, Haruchiyo Sanzu. warnings. sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning, graphic violence, substance abuse, toxic/manipulative relationships, explicit sexual content, depression & self-destructive behaviour, strong language. tags. female reader insert, bonten au, tsundere!sanzu, ex-boyfriend!mikey, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, heavy pining/yearning.

masterlist

Manjiro Sano never hurts you—not physically, at least—though the emotional havoc he's wreaked has left you unraveling. But what you face now is something entirely different.

Haruchiyo Sanzu's grip is iron-clad, dragging you away from Mikey's door with no regard for your protests. His fingers dig into your wrist like vices, the pressure biting deep into your skin until the pain is sharp and throbbing. It radiates up your arm, but even that ache is dull compared to the hollow devastation gnawing at your chest. The image of Mikey with her—so close, so intimate—burns behind your eyelids every time you blink.

It's as though the world around you has ceased to exist. You can't even register the hallways passing by as Sanzu hauls you through them, his erratic pace nearly causing you to stumble. You feel like a ragdoll in his grasp, powerless, your heart beating out of sync with reality.

Kakucho's voice filters through the numbness. "Sanzu... what are you doing?"

There's concern in his tone, but he stays planted where he is, as if crossing that line would be dangerous.

Sanzu doesn't slow, doesn't even glance at him. His lips curl into a sneer as cold as the concrete walls.

"Taking care of a stray," he bites, yanking you closer as though you might slip from his grip.

The words sting, but not as much as what follows.

Kakucho's frown deepens, but he's hesitant. "You sure you wanna do that? She's—"

Sanzu cuts him off, sharp and merciless. "She's nothing. A nobody. Mikey made that pretty fucking clear, didn't he?"

Nothing. A nobody.

Each word hits you with the force of a physical blow. Whatever you were to Mikey, whatever you thought you had—it's been ripped away, stripped down to these ugly truths.

You're nothing now.

Kakucho's gaze flickers to you, sympathy and uncertainty mingling in his dark eyes. But you can't meet them. You drop your head, staring at the floor as though it holds all the answers you need. Maybe if you don't look, you won't have to acknowledge what Sanzu just said. Maybe you can pretend you didn't hear it.

Mikey doesn't want you anymore.

"Stop this," Kakucho urges, stepping forward now, his movements careful, deliberate. "You're high. This isn't going to end well, you know that."

Sanzu's eyes snap up, wild and feral, like a predator guarding its kill. "Exactly." His voice drops to a venomous whisper. "So back the fuck off before I kill you too."

The tension between them is palpable, but Kakucho eventually steps back, his jaw tight with barely suppressed anger. He's seen what Sanzu is capable of when he's in this state. They all have.

"Just don't go too far," Kakucho mutters, his voice tight, his eyes flicking to you one last time before he steps aside. His reluctance lingers, but in the end, he's still letting you be dragged away.

Ran, sprawled lazily on the couch, barely lifts his head as he calls after Sanzu. "Mission's at nine. Try not to be dead before then."

Sanzu pays no mind to either of them. His grip tightens, and you're dragged deeper into Bonten's labyrinthine corridors, every step taking you further from any hope of intervention.

He pulls you into a small room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle your bones. A click follows—the lock sliding into place—and you're alone. Alone with him.

The room is stark, clinical, a conference table dominating the space with its polished wood surface and neatly lined chairs. But there's nothing neat about what's happening now. The moment Sanzu shoves you against the table, hard enough that the edge bites into your lower back, the sterile, formal atmosphere of the room is obliterated.

His hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your throat. The pressure is immediate, your breath catching in your throat as your vision blurs at the edges. You gasp instinctively, hands flying to his wrist, nails scraping against his skin, but he's too strong. His hold tightens further, cutting off more of your air, and panic grips you.

He leans in, his breath hot against your face, laced with the stench of drugs. His expression is wild, unhinged, pupils dilated and blown wide with intoxication. But beneath the drugs, there's something else—an anger, a bitterness that has nothing to do with you, but is aimed at you all the same.

"Now..." His voice is low, almost a growl. "What more do I need to do to make you understand? You don't fucking belong here."

Your lungs burn, your head spinning as your fingers claw at his hand. I don't belong here? The thought pierces through your fog of fear. Maybe he's right. You're not sure of anything anymore—not after Mikey, not after what you saw.

You can't breathe, and everything is turning dark. Sanzu's face, his mocking grin, is the only thing in focus.

Tears well up, spilling over your lashes. But you're not crying because of the physical pain. It's the emotional torment that's killing you. The crushing realization that you are utterly, completely alone. No one's coming to save you.

Sanzu watches as you choke on your own sobs, and he laughs, low and cold. "Already crying?" he mocks. "I haven't even started yet."

But the tears won't stop. The dam inside you breaks, and you're gasping, sobbing uncontrollably in front of him. You can't take it anymore. Not this. Not after what Mikey's done to you.

"Just..." You choke on the words, your voice broken and hoarse. "Just fucking kill me already."

For a moment, there's silence. Then, his grip on your neck loosens just enough to let you breathe. You gasp, sucking in precious air, coughing as your lungs fight for life. But the relief is short-lived.

Sanzu's face hovers inches from yours, his smirk growing, eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement. "Kill you?" His tone is soft now, condescending. "Nah. That's too easy."

His fingers trace the curve of your jaw, rough, possessive. "I think I'd rather play with you a little longer."

You squeeze your eyes shut, hands pressing against your face as tears continue to spill down your cheeks. This feels so stupid. So, so stupid. Mikey's across the hall with his wife, living his perfect life, while you're stuck here with Sanzu—his insane, drugged-up number two.

What a fucking downgrade.

Suddenly, without warning, Sanzu grabs your face roughly, forcing you to look up at him through your tear-filled eyes.

"You're pathetic," he sneers before crushing his lips against yours.

The kiss is brutal, possessive, and filled with an overwhelming heat that makes your skin crawl. You try to push him away, but his weight presses you into the table, your wrists pinned beneath his hands. It's suffocating, just like his grip on your throat.

And then you taste it. Something bitter and foreign sliding past your lips. Your eyes widen in horror as you realize what he's doing.

He pulls back, his lips brushing yours as he whispers, "Swallow."

You shake your head, panic rising in your chest. No way. You're not going to swallow that. You try to spit it out, but his hand clamps down over your mouth, smothering any attempt to resist.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," he murmurs, his tone soft but filled with menace. "Be a good girl... and swallow."

His words slither into your ears, so sweet and venomous all at once, poisoning what little willpower you have left. You want to fight him. You want to scream and tear away from him, but you can't. Your body is too sluggish, too weak to resist, and part of you doesn't want to.

It wants him to be right.

It's easier, isn't it? To let him take control. To stop resisting and just give in, let the numbness wash over you. Maybe then the pain of everything—of Mikey, of the betrayal, of this twisted mess—will fade, even just for a moment.

"I said swallow," Sanzu hisses, his patience thinning. "That. Shit."

You finally swallow the pill, the bitterness lingering on your tongue like a promise you'll regret. The drug settles deep inside you, blooming warmth spreading through your chest like wildfire, but there's no comfort in it. It only intensifies the chaos swirling in your mind—the betrayal, the loss, the desire to escape. It all collides in a sickening wave, leaving you gasping, clinging to the edge of the table as your body betrays you.

Sanzu watches you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl, his eyes dark, wide, and hungry. He's waiting. Waiting for the drug to take hold, waiting for you to crumble.

"Good girl," he breathes, and the words slide over your skin, soft and menacing. His gaze lingers, tracing every tremor in your body, every stifled breath.

The drug spreads quickly—too quickly. The next thing you know the room is spinning violently, the floor tipping beneath your feet, and you're stumbling as warmth floods your limbs. You try to steady yourself, but your body feels too light, too hot, like you're floating, disconnected from reality. Your breath quickens, panic swelling in your chest as your senses sharpen, every touch, every sound amplified to unbearable levels.

Sanzu's hands are still on you, his touch electric, sending jolts through your skin. You gasp, your heart racing as the euphoria spreads, tangling with the devastation inside you, turning everything into a dizzying blur of sensation. You can barely breathe, and yet, in the haze of it all, a part of you is aware of his gaze, watching you intently, reveling in your reaction.

"First time's always the best. You might cry, you might like it. Who knows?" He laughs, a quiet, sinister sound that rattles through your bones.

You choke on a sob, the tears spilling over as the drug overtakes you, drowning you in heat and haze. Your body feels foreign, your mind too foggy to comprehend anything other than the intensity of it all. You want to fight it, fight him, but there's nothing to hold on to—nothing but him.

And that terrifies you.

"Let go," he murmurs, his voice is low, almost a purr, and you can feel his breath against your ear as he leans in closer. "Let it take over... Forget everything and just feel."

Your body acts before your mind can catch up, your hand clutching the front of his shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric. It's an instinctual, desperate motion, driven by something deep inside—a need for warmth, for something to hold on to. You can't explain it, but you crave him now, the heat of his body, the solidity of his presence. You pull him closer, though you don't even understand why, though it feels all wrong.

"Look at you..." Sanzu's chuckle is dark, amused. "Hanging onto me like that. Lost little thing, aren't you? So pathetic."

But he leans in anyway, his breath brushing against your neck as he speaks. His proximity feels like a lifeline, shielding you from the blinding lights that seem to intensify with every passing second. The room tilts, but his voice anchors you, even as it weaves dirty, degrading things in your ear—things that make your stomach twist, yet ignite something you don't want to acknowledge.

Your heart races, breath coming in ragged bursts. Everything is too intense—his touch, his words, the sensation of your body betraying you. You don't understand this feeling, this mixture of euphoria and humiliation. It's confusing, overwhelming, and yet, you can't shake the craving. The need for more.

His touch, his heat.

Then, without warning, he steps back.

The sudden absence of him is like a cold slap to the face, leaving you breathless and cold. Your body aches for the warmth he took with him, for the closeness that you didn't even know you craved. You hate it. You hate the emptiness he leaves behind.

He adjusts his waistcoat with a casual smirk, like this was all just a game to him, like your unraveling was just another form of entertainment.

"You're on your own now," he says, his voice detached, distant. "Enjoy the ride."

And just like that, he's gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

You're left sprawled across the table, the world spinning, lights burning into your skull. Your limbs are heavy, useless, and you try to move, to escape the overwhelming heat and dizziness suffocating you, but your body won't cooperate. You tumble to the floor, the carpet catching your fall with a soft thud.

A giggle bubbles up from your throat, though you don't know why. Everything feels distant, like you're floating, detached from reality. The warmth of the drug mingles with the cold ache of abandonment, creating a disorienting swirl of emotions that you can't make sense of.

And so you lie there, lost in the haze, your body sinking deeper into the plush floor as the laughter fades, leaving only the hollow emptiness behind.

Until, finally, the world pulls you into the darkness of sleep.

Manjiro Sano never cheated on you before. You've known him for nine years—nine long years where loyalty was never questioned, not once. He's never strayed, never looked at another woman the way he looks at you. That was the truth you clung to through all the chaos, the violence, the bloodshed. But tonight, the foundation of that truth crumbles before your eyes.

When you catch him with his wife, it's not exactly cheating, is it? Not when she's the one wearing the ring. Not when she's the one he made vows to. And yet, it feels like betrayal. If anything, you're the other woman now. Your position, the one you held so dearly, has shifted, without your consent.

He's the one betraying her, not you. But that logic doesn't make the pain any easier to bear. It still cuts deep, searing through you with what you had just witnessed in Mikey's office. You thought you were strong enough to endure it, thought you could compartmentalize the ache gnawing at your insides. You were wrong. The sight of them together burns itself into your mind like a wound that refuses to heal.

Until Sanzu forced that pill down your throat.

The memory floods back, vivid and suffocating. His twisted grin, the roughness of his hands, the way he made you feel so helpless. But now? Now you feel the strangest relief. The aching wound in your chest—the one Mikey and his wife carved out—fades into a distant blur, replaced by a creeping, unnatural numbness. Your mind is hazy, clouded, but in that haze, you find comfort.

The world felt kinder in that numbness. And for a moment, you were almost grateful for the relief Sanzu gave you. Almost.

When you wake up, the high is gone, leaving behind a pounding headache and a body that feels stiff, heavy, like someone drained the life from you. The floor feels strange under your hands, cold and unfamiliar. You blink, trying to orient yourself, and realize you're not on the floor anymore. Someone moved you—you're sprawled across the couch in the executive lounge, a blanket thrown haphazardly over you like an afterthought.

Your body screams in discomfort, muscles sore, your skin aching where his hands had pressed too hard. But the pain is secondary to the memories—Sanzu. That damn pill. The way he—

"You're awake."

The voice cuts through the fog in your mind, and your head snaps to the side. Mikey sits in a chair not far from you, the dim light casting shadows across his face. He's watching you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes... his eyes are different. Tired.

The night stretches behind him through the window, a dark sky lit by city lights. The office is quiet. Everyone else is gone. Even Sanzu.

It's just you and Mikey now.

You don't answer him. The ache in your chest resurfaces, sharper this time, suffocating as the image of him and his wife flashes in your mind again. It hits harder now, with Mikey sitting right in front of you, looking at you.

You push yourself up, your body swaying under the weight of exhaustion and leftover dizziness. Your throat is sore, bruised, where Sanzu's fingers had pressed too hard, too rough, forcing. You reach up instinctively, wincing at the tenderness, and you catch Mikey's gaze drop to your neck.

His jaw clenches. The air between you shifts—heavy, tense.

"He won't touch you again."

His voice is low, soft, but there's a dangerous edge beneath it, one that sends a chill through your veins. You know that tone. It's the tone he uses before someone dies.

You swallow, the reality sinking in. What has Mikey done? What did he do to Sanzu? The thought twists in your gut, unease settling deep inside you, but part of you pushes the thought away. Sanzu deserves whatever he gets, doesn't he? After what he did?

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "Forget about that... He gave me something. A pill."

Mikey's face shifts, unreadable for a moment, then he shrugs. "A pill? X, probably. He does that sometimes. Are you alright?"

That makes sense. No wonder you passed out so quickly. But it doesn't ease the anger boiling inside you, doesn't take away the humiliation of letting Sanzu drag you deeper into his twisted games when you were already at your lowest.

"I'm fine," you bite out, though it feels like a lie.

Fine? You're far from fine.

The words hang in the air, sharp, bitter, and when you look at Mikey, the ache in your chest becomes unbearable. You're not sure if it's anger or heartbreak that makes it so hard to breathe.

"Mikey..." you begin again, your voice cracking slightly, the words lodged in your throat. It's harder than you thought to say it, because once it's out, there's no taking it back.

"We can't just pretend like nothing's changed."

He doesn't look at you at first. He just stares at the floor, his jaw clenched tight, as though he's trying to force himself to say something, but can't. The silence stretches on painfully before he finally speaks, his voice so low you almost don't hear him.

"I know things are different." Each word sounds forced, like it's taking every ounce of strength for him to admit it. "But..."

Your heart clenches, your breath catching in your throat. There's always a 'but' with him, isn't there? Always some excuse, some reason why things can't go back to the way they were.

"But what, Mikey?" you ask, unable to stop yourself. It's not anger that drives you this time, but the desperation clawing at your insides. "You have feelings for her now, don't you?"

You watch him as he exhales slowly, his face still calm, almost detached. You wish he would say something, anything, to ease the ache in your chest. But he doesn't.

"I do," he says, his voice distant. It's a confession that feels like a knife to your heart. "I can't deny that. She's... she's gonna have my kid. It's not simple anymore."

The words hit you like a physical blow. You knew it, deep down, but hearing him say it aloud makes it real in a way you weren't prepared for. The sharp, bitter taste of betrayal lingers in the back of your throat. You swallow hard, trying to keep your emotions from spilling over, but your voice wavers when you speak again.

"And us?"

The question slips out, soft and fragile, but it cuts deeper than anything you've said before. You're asking about more than just your relationship—you're asking about the nine years you gave him, about the promises he made, about the love you once believed was unbreakable.

Mikey's eyes finally meet yours, and for a brief moment, you see the boy you once knew—the boy who swore he'd never leave you, who promised you forever under the stars when you were both too young to understand what that meant. His gaze softens for a second, a flicker of something almost tender, almost apologetic.

"I still care about you," he says, his voice low but steady. There's no hesitation in his tone, no doubt. But it's not the answer you were hoping for. "That hasn't changed."

But it has.

The truth of that slams into you with crushing finality. You shake your head, the weight of his words pressing down on you, suffocating you.

"Oh, it has, Mikey," you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "You know that."

The silence that follows is thick, heavy with everything left unsaid. Mikey doesn't argue, doesn't try to convince you otherwise. He just leans back in his chair, his hands falling limp at his sides, as though he's too exhausted to fight anymore. There's a defeat in his posture that wasn't there before, as if even he knows this is the end.

You want to scream at him, demand why it took him so long to be honest, why he let things fall apart so silently. But the words won't come. All that's left is the ache, the unbearable knowledge that the man you've loved for nearly a decade is slipping further away from you with every passing second.

Mikey looks like he's about to say something, his lips parting slightly, but then he falters, his shoulders sagging under the weight of whatever he's holding back.

"Maybe," he murmurs after a moment, his voice so soft you almost miss it. For the first time, he sounds vulnerable. "But I don't want to lose you. I can't..."

His voice breaks, just a little, and that cracks something inside of you too. Because it sounds like the truth, like the rawness of his feelings is finally breaking through the cold exterior he always wears. Nine years together, and this is where it's come to—a place where even his honesty feels too late. Too hollow. You know it's not enough. It never will be.

You don't want to lose him either. You don't want to believe that all those years meant nothing. But deep down, you know it already has. The moment she became his wife, the moment he chose her, you lost this battle. The war in your heart is over, and all that remains is the wreckage of what once was.

"You're already losing me," you whisper, the finality of it sinking in. Each word feels like a dagger in your own chest. "When you started choosing her, Mikey."

Mikey doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He just sits there, silent and still, like he's frozen in time. Maybe he doesn't have the strength to argue. Maybe, deep down, he knows it's true. He's losing you, and there's nothing left he can do to stop it.

You don't wait for his answer anymore. You've spent too long waiting for him to decide, too long hoping for a future that's already gone. The pain in your body—your aching muscles, the soreness from Sanzu's rough touch—it all fades into the background, drowned out by the unbearable weight of your broken heart.

You push yourself to your feet, your legs shaking slightly under the strain. But you don't let yourself falter. You can't, not now.

"You need to figure this out on your own," you say, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay strong. Your words are an ultimatum, a final plea for him to understand what he's done.

"'Because I can't keep waiting for you to choose me. I'm not meant to be an option. I'm worth more than that."

There's nothing left to say. The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of goodbye. Mikey doesn't move, doesn't speak, and that hurts more than anything else. He's letting you walk away.

Without another word, you turn and head toward the elevator. Each step feels like a thousand miles, like you're walking out of his life for good. And maybe you are. Maybe this is the end you've been dreading for so long.

The elevator doors close behind you with a soft click, and in the quiet of the enclosed space, the tears finally come. They fall silently at first, warm trails down your cheeks, but you don't wipe them away.

As the elevator descends, you let the tears flow freely. The weight of the years, the memories, the love you poured into him—it all hits you at once, and you don't stop it. You don't need to hide from the truth anymore.

Manjiro Sano has killed before. The thought of it had once terrified you, the cold certainty in his eyes when he spoke of violence always chilling.

You know this because you asked him, point-blank, one night when the weight of his world became too much to ignore. He didn't tell you directly, but the silence that followed, the coldness in his eyes, was answer enough. In that moment, the boy you knew, the boy you loved, disappeared into the shadows of the man he had become.

Still, you accepted him. Loved him anyway. You convinced yourself it was the only way to keep him—by accepting all of him, even the parts you couldn't bear to understand. You've always found a way to justify it—his actions, his choices, the darkness that clung to him like a second skin. Because loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. It became an instinct, a reflex, something that felt inevitable.

But now, the uncertainty gnaws at you, harder than ever before. Not just the heaviness of knowing who he is, but the gnawing question of what he's capable of—what he's done to the people around him.

What he's done to Sanzu.

Your mind races, replaying every detail of your last conversation with Mikey. The hard edge to his voice, the finality in his words. If Mikey killed him, it's because of you, isn't it? Because of what Sanzu did to you.

If Sanzu's dead, then his blood is on your hands.

That thought lodges itself deep in your chest, a weight too heavy to shake. Even after everything—after the drug, the violence, the way he pushed you to the edge—you can't stomach the idea of Sanzu dying because of you.

Which is why you find yourself here again, standing outside Sanzu's condominium in the middle of the night, your heart pounding so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts.

Mikey's words echo in your mind—his cold, distant voice, the final crack in everything you thought you knew about him. The realization had shattered you in ways you hadn't been prepared for.

It's over.

The words taste bitter on your tongue, but they ring with a truth that you can't deny. The boy you loved, the man you thought you'd stand beside forever—he's gone. And in his place is someone you no longer recognize.

Your feet move almost on their own as you approach Sanzu's door, but a hesitation stops you just before you reach the doorbell. Do you even know what you're doing here? What you want? You aren't sure. But the pull toward him, toward finding out what Mikey's done, is stronger than your doubts.

With a shaky breath, you press the doorbell. The silence that follows is deafening, punctuated only by the racing of your heart. Each second that passes feels like a lifetime, until finally, the shuffle of footsteps inside tells you someone's there.

The door swings open with a creak, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. Relief washes over you—but only for a second. What replaces it is a sharp stab of pity.

Sanzu looks like hell. His one eye is swollen and bruised, a fresh bandage covering the right side of his face. His lips are split and caked with dried blood, a sight that twists something deep in your chest.

His trademark sneer is still there, but it's marred by the pain that's evident in the way he stands, slightly hunched, favoring one side. There's an anger in his eyes, but behind it, you can see the weariness, the vulnerability he would never admit to.

"What the fuck do you want now?" Sanzu snaps, his voice sharp despite the obvious discomfort he's in. He's trying to sound like his usual self, but you can tell the fight has been knocked out of him. He's hurting. Badly.

Your mouth opens to respond, the words on the tip of your tongue, but they die there. Seeing him like this—broken, battered—it's not what you expected. It shakes something loose inside of you. Your eyes scan his injuries, your mind reeling with the knowledge that Mikey did this. The boy you loved did this.

Mikey isn't supposed to be this brutal. Not with his own.

The thought makes your chest tighten painfully, and before you can stop it, the tidal wave of emotion crashes over you. Tears spill from your eyes, hot and unchecked. You thought you'd cried all the tears you had to give tonight, but this time, they come from a place deeper than heartbreak. This time, you're crying for everything—for Mikey, for Sanzu, for the person you've become in all this mess.

Sanzu's sneer fades slightly as he takes in the sight of you, replaced by an annoyed scowl. He's trying to hide his discomfort, but you can see the confusion in his eyes.

"What are you, a child? Stop crying!" His words are rough, but there's an edge of bewilderment in them.

He doesn't understand why you're here, why you're crying.

But you can't stop. The sobs come hard and fast, tearing through you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. You're overwhelmed, consumed by the realization that Mikey is no longer the man you fell in love with. When did he start to change? When did the violence become more than just a part of his world, but a part of him?

Sanzu watches you, his irritation growing as your sobs continue. He's never been good with emotions—especially not yours.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath, rubbing a hand across his face and wincing as he touches the bruise. "You're crying over him, huh? You think he even cares?"

His words hit you like a slap, and more tears fall, a pitiful, uncontrollable mess. And in that moment, you don't care. You don't care that Sanzu's dangerous, that he's hurt you before, that he's the reason you ended up here in the first place. All you can think about is the fact that Mikey—your Mikey—is gone.

He's no longer the boy who used to hold you late at night, whispering promises of a future that now feels like a distant dream. He's no longer the man who looked at you like you were his entire world.

He's no longer yours.

Sanzu scoffs, the sound harsh in the quiet hallway. "Fuck's sake, will you stop that whining?"

But even his sharp words don't reach you.

When you don't respond, don't even acknowledge him, something in Sanzu snaps. He can't stand it anymore—the emotions, the tears, the fact that you're standing here crying over someone else while he's falling apart.

"Goddammit!" he snarls, and before you can blink, he slams the door in your face.

The sound echoes in the empty hallway, a loud, final punctuation to the moment. You're left standing there, your body trembling as the sobs finally start to quiet, though the tears continue to stream down your cheeks. You're alone again, and the weight of that reality hits you harder than anything else.

Mikey is gone. And so is the life you thought you'd have.

Manjiro Sano hated seeing you cry. Every time your tears would spill, it was like the world stopped spinning. His face would twist in pain, even if the tears weren't his fault. He once said that when you cried, it felt like he had failed—like he should have protected you from whatever caused them.

He always pulled you into his arms when you broke down, his touch so gentle it was almost unreal. He would stroke your hair, whispering that everything was okay, hiding you in the crook of his shoulder so you wouldn't feel so exposed.

But that Mikey? That Mikey is long gone.

Now you're standing outside Sanzu's condo unit, your fingers shaking as you try to dry your tear-streaked face. The cold air bites at your skin, or maybe it's the weight of what's happened tonight that chills you to the bone.

The second time you've cried in front of Sanzu today.

The first time, his hands were around your throat, forcing a pill past your lips, his eyes distant and clouded with drugs. The second time, there was no pill, no high to hide behind—just bruises, pain, and a door slammed in your face.

You shouldn't have come here, but at least you know he's alive. Mikey hadn't killed him, though something in the pit of your stomach told you it could have easily gone that way. You should feel relieved. Instead, the relief is mingled with anger, a deep-seated frustration that makes your heart pound even harder.

Just as you wipe away the last tear, the door swings open again.

Sanzu stands in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the dim light inside. His scowl deepens as his eyes land on you, scanning your face like he's surprised you're still standing there.

Then, without a word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you inside, slamming the door shut behind you. His grip is rough, but it loosens as soon as you're inside, leaving you stunned and blinking in the middle of his condo unit.

He disappears into another room and comes back with a box of tissues, shoving it toward you without a word. You take it, still in shock, as your eyes land on the bandage on his cheek. It's crooked, slapped on without much care, and his busted lip is still untreated, blood crusting around the edges, making him look even more broken than usual. You flinch inwardly at the sight.

"Did you get that wound treated?" Your voice is softer than you intended, concern slipping through the cracks in your resolve.

Sanzu glares at you. "What's it to you?"

You ignore his harshness, stepping closer. "You need to clean it properly," you say as your eyes fall to the faded scars at the corners of his mouth, scars you've always tried not to stare at too long.

"Or it'll leave... a scar."

"Yeah? So what?" he mutters, brushing off your concern as he walks away.

You stare at him, the words catching in your throat. The sight of him—bruised and bandaged sloppily—somehow makes your chest ache in ways you don't fully understand.

"Don't you have any antiseptic?" you ask, turning toward the door. "I'll go buy some if—"

"I have it," he grunts, cutting you off. "Top shelf, next to you. You'd think I wouldn't know how to deal with a damn wound in this line of work?"

You glance at the haphazard bandage on his cheek, clearly not impressed by his self-care. Still, you open the shelf and retrieve a small emergency kit.

"Then why didn't you treat the cut on your lip?" you ask, your voice a little firmer this time as you sit on the edge of his couch. "Surely you know you need to put antiseptic on it."

Sanzu grumbles under his breath, looking away. "Because... it fucking hurts, alright?"

You freeze for a second, blinking at him in surprise. Sanzu—the man who seems to thrive on chaos and pain—can't handle the sting of a simple cut? It's almost absurd, and yet, in that moment, you glimpse a flicker of something real beneath his usual mask. Vulnerability.

"I didn't think you were afraid of pain," you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

"I'm not afraid of it," he snaps, his voice rising defensively. "I just fucking hate it."

There's a childishness in his tone that catches you off guard, like he's throwing a tantrum rather than admitting weakness. The outburst lingers in the air for a moment before you decide to ignore it, reaching for the antiseptic in the first aid kit.

"Let me treat it." Your voice is calm, quiet. An olive branch, if only he'd take it.

Sanzu stares at you, his jaw tight, his eyes narrowing. "Forget it," he mutters, brushing you off. "I don't need you all over my business."

"You're a dick, you know that?" you say, watching him limp slightly as he heads toward the pantry. The guilt sits heavy in your stomach.

He doesn't even glance back as he opens the fridge, retrieving a beer. "And I get paid for it," he replies, voice flat, devoid of his usual smugness.

You roll your eyes as he cracks the can open, lifting it to his lips, his pink hair a mess, like he's been through more than just a fight with Mikey. The black shirt and sweatpants he's wearing make him look almost... domestic. It hits you, suddenly—this familiarity, this strange sense of calm despite everything. It reminds you of Mikey, the way he used to walk around your apartment. The way things used to be.

Your heart twists.

"We broke up," you blurt out, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. It's like ripping off a bandage—quick and painful, but it has to be done.

Sanzu pauses mid-sip, his back still turned to you. You watch as he downs the rest of the beer in one long gulp, crushing the can in his hand before tossing it aside.

"'Bout time. I'm surprised it took him this long to figure it out," he mutters, but his words lack bite. There's no usual mockery, no cruelty, just... hollow indifference.

You study him, sensing the weight of his own pain, the bruises left by Mikey—not just on his body but somewhere deeper. You want to ask, to probe at the cracks in his usual defenses, but you don't. Instead, you take a breath and shift the conversation.

"I know, right?" You force a smile that feels thin, brittle. "I'm so heartbroken." The sarcasm coats your words, but it can't hide the tremor in your voice.

"You must be feeling pretty good right now, so why not do me a favor?" You motion for him to sit beside you. "Come sit here and let me treat your wounds."

Sanzu turns slowly, his eyes scanning you as if weighing your request. You can tell he's torn, that a part of him wants to accept the help, even if his pride keeps getting in the way.

You sit there, waiting, knowing that if he needed to push you away, he would've already done it. You don't say anything, just hold your ground, offering him something he's clearly not used to—genuine care.

Finally, with a sharp exhale, he mutters, the words almost begrudging, "Fine. But don't expect me to thank you."

You smile softly, shaking your head as you hold out the antiseptic. "I wouldn't dream of it."

He walks toward you, but instead of sitting next to you, he drops down on the opposite couch, legs sprawled out carelessly, almost as if daring you to come to him instead. You raise an eyebrow, the familiar exasperation rising within you.

"You could at least make it easier for me," you grumble, standing up and walking over.

There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes as you sit down in front of him on the coffee table, closer now, the scent of alcohol faint but present on his breath. He watches you carefully, eyes following your movements with that predatory focus he always seems to carry, even in moments like this.

When you peel back the bandage on his cheek, revealing the jagged scrape underneath, he winces, trying but failing to hide it. You smirk despite yourself, dabbing the wound with antiseptic.

"You're such a baby," you tease, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

The reaction is immediate. "Am not," he snaps, his voice cutting through the space between you. "Don't fucking call me that again." There's a sharp edge to his words, but you can hear the vulnerability beneath it, the bruised pride of someone who's used to fighting, not being taken care of.

You ignore his outburst, focusing on his wound. This time, you're more careful, your touch gentler as you apply the ointment. His lips press into a thin line, and you can feel the effort it takes for him to sit still. There's something oddly endearing about it, watching him struggle with the idea of being vulnerable, even for a moment.

He really hates being called a baby, doesn't he?

When you finish with the bandage, you move on to his split lip, focusing on the dried blood caked around the cut. He avoids your gaze, scowling as if pretending this isn't happening.

As your fingers brush against the faded scars at the corners of his mouth, curiosity gnaws at you. Before you can stop yourself, you press a thumb to one of the scars, feeling the jagged line beneath your skin.

Sanzu jerks back, his eyes blazing as he swats your hand away. "What the hell?" he growls, the vulnerability from a moment ago vanishing beneath the weight of his anger.

"Sorry," you murmur, pulling your hand back. "I got distracted."

The air between you shifts again, tense and fragile. You can tell you've touched something he doesn't want to share, a part of him that's still too raw, too guarded. And yet, you can't help but wonder what it would take for him to open up—to let you see more than just the surface.

You watch him stands abruptly in front of you, like he's about to bolt. "But I'm not done," you lie, trying to keep him there, keep the moment from slipping away.

He hesitates, glaring at you, but after a second, he sits back down with a grunt. "Whatever, just get it over with. I don't have all night to wait around."

You stay still, your hands resting in your lap as you stare at him, not moving to pick up the first aid kit again. "Can I ask you something?"

Sanzu slouches deeper into the couch, his eyes narrowing at you. "What now?"

You take a breath, steadying yourself. "How did you get those scars?"

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. For a moment, you expect him to laugh it off, to mock you for even asking. But instead, he just stares at you, his gaze cold and distant, like he's weighing whether or not to answer.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost a whisper. "Mikey gave them to me."

The admission hits you like a punch to the gut. Mikey? Mikey did that to him? You feel your heart sink, your stomach twisting in disbelief. Judging by the faded look of the scars, it wasn't recent—this happened years ago. Long before Bonten. So why...?

"Why did he do that?" Your voice cracks, betraying the flood of emotions rising inside you.

Sanzu's eyes darken, his expression hardening. "I don't fucking remember," he snaps, his tone sharp, like he's daring you to push further.

But the look in his eyes tells you more than his words ever could. This isn't something he wants to talk about—not with you, not with anyone.

You lower your gaze, staring down at your hands as the weight of everything threatens to crush you again. The urge to cry surfaces, hot tears stinging your eyes. You've cried so much today, and in front of him of all people. It's humiliating at this point.

You stand, trying to escape the overwhelming weight of it all. "It's done. So I'll just... go," you mumble, stepping toward the door.

Before you can make it far, Sanzu's hand wraps around your wrist, his fingers cool against your skin. His grip is light, almost hesitant. You look down at where his fingers hold you, then back up at him.

"What is it?"

You can feel your voice trembling, on the verge of breaking. You're so close to falling apart, and he's just... watching.

"Want this?" he asks suddenly, holding up a bottle filled with colorful pills.

He gives it a small shake, and the pills rattle softly inside. The smirk that spreads across his face now is familiar, predatory. This is the Sanzu you know, the one you hate.

"This shit's the real deal. The other stuff I gave you earlier was just a trial run." He laughs, that low, mocking sound that makes your blood boil.

Your chest tightens as you stare at the pills, your mind flashing back to the euphoria from earlier. It had felt so good, so easy, like all the pain had vanished for a while. And yet... you narrow your eyes at him, anger replacing the temptation. How could he think you'd ever take anything from him again after what he did?

Sanzu sees the anger flash across your face, and the smirk fades. He lets go of your wrist and looks away, his expression hardening again. "Forget it. Just go."

For a moment, you almost do. You almost walk out the door and leave him behind. But something makes you stop. The way his hand had felt around your wrist, the way his voice had softened when he realized what he was offering. You glance back at him, his body tense as he stares ahead, avoiding your gaze. And suddenly, you don't want to leave anymore.

"I want it," you say quietly, turning fully to face him. "Give it to me."

Sanzu's eyes flick back to you, surprise flashing briefly before his usual sneer returns. "Fuck no," he grunts. "You think I'm gonna give you this just to watch you walk out that door?"

There's a pause. His words hang in the air, and for a split second, his eyes widen slightly, like he's just surprised himself with the admission. He hadn't meant to say that, but now it's out there—he doesn't want you to leave. Not yet.

He actually wants your company.

You can't help the bitter smile that tugs at your lips. "What, so you can choke me again?" you ask, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

His head snaps toward you, confusion etched into his features. "Huh? No. That's—" He stumbles over the words, almost defensive, like he hadn't considered how far he'd gone before.

Without waiting for him to finish, you plop down on the couch beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. You extend your hand, palm up, eyes fixed on his.

"Fine. Give me that, Sanzu."

For a moment, he doesn't move, his gaze searching your face. Then, slowly, a smirk tugs at his lips again—the same smug, infuriating expression you've come to expect from him.

Manjiro Sano has warned you more than once: avoid Sanzu when he's high. The fact that you were Mikey's girlfriend has always been enough to keep Sanzu from crossing certain lines when he's sober, but when the drugs took over, his already fragile self-control shatters.

The warning always carries weight, like a veiled threat that lingers at the back of your mind, but tonight... tonight, you don't care. You're too numb, too broken, and the reckless part of you craves the release Sanzu offers. The part of you that wants to forget Mikey.

The pill between Sanzu's fingers gleams like forbidden fruit, a dual-colored capsule that promises escape. His grin is lazy, predatory, as if the thrill of watching you self-destruct is part of his form of entertainment. Without a word, you reach for the pill, swallowing it down without hesitation. The bitter taste lingers at the back of your throat, but the anticipation of oblivion drowns out any second thoughts.

Within minutes, the edges of reality begin to blur. The room shifts, the walls breathe, and the floor ripples like water beneath your feet. Colors bleed into each other, swirling in dizzying patterns that make you feel weightless. The cool marble floor presses against your cheek as you lie sprawled on the ground, your limbs heavy yet disconnected from your body.

Above you, like a ghostly shadow, Sanzu lounges on the couch, watching you with an intensity that both unnerves and thrills you. He takes a pill of his own before the next wave hits you—stronger this time, pulling you under completely.

For a fleeting moment, you let everything go—the pain, the heartbreak, the memories of Mikey's distant eyes as you walked away from him. All the weight of your unspoken love, of your shattered heart, evaporates in the fog of euphoria. It's terrifying how easy it is to forget, to lose yourself in the numbness. But somewhere, deep in the pit of your soul, the fear lingers.

What will be left of you when the high wears off?

When you wake the next morning, reality presses you down like a vise. Your head pounds, each throb a reminder of the drug still pulsing through your system. The soft morning light filters through the unfamiliar room's windows. You blink, disoriented, trying to piece together what happened.

Right... Sanzu. You were in his condo last night, and this—this must be his bedroom.

As you shift, the soft rustle of sheets draws your attention, and your heart leaps into your throat. Sanzu lies beside you, his face buried in the pillow, his hair a wild mess of pink strands. He's half-naked, the blanket draped loosely over his hips, and for a moment, panic seizes you.

Your fingers instinctively brush over your clothes—still on, thank God. Relief washes over you, but it's fleeting. The haze of the previous night is still there, muddy and unclear, and you have no idea what happened between the two of you after you'd lost yourself to the high.

Whatever it was, it doesn't seem like you had sex with him. At least... you hope you didn't. Two people who are really high wouldn't bother to put their clothes back on after sex, right?

You sit up carefully, the bed creaking softly beneath you, and that's when you notice them—his scars. Lines of jagged, raw skin crisscross his back like a violent roadmap of his past. Some scars are old, barely visible against his pale skin, while others are fresh, still healing from whatever recent chaos he's endured.

You know that Sanzu lives in violence, that it clings to him like a second skin, but seeing the marks so intimately, so vulnerably laid bare before you—it stirs something inside you. A deep, unsettling pity, but you quickly shove it down, pushing it past the ache in your chest.

Your shift your gaze to the floor, where the bottle of pills lies tipped over, colorful capsules scattered across the marble floor. How many did you take last night? Too many, you're sure. You feel their lingering effects, the way they dull the edges of your thoughts, how they slow your movements.

Shaking off the grogginess, you move toward the door, eyes landing on the katana propped up against the wall. A glint of steel in the early light.

You pause, your hand gripping the door handle. The memory of what Sanzu did before flashes through your mind—the way he choked you, forcing the first pill down your throat. Mikey has punished him for it, but still, you felt guilty enough to treat his wounds. Then, stupidly, you let yourself get high with him again. Willingly.

But the anger still simmers under the surface. All those cruel words over the years, the taunts, the smirks, the way he looks down on you. He's infuriating. And this... this is your chance to get back at him.

Without thinking, you walk over to the katana. The hilt feels cool and foreign in your hand as you lift it, the weight of it surprising you. But you don't hesitate.

As you drag the katana behind you, the metal scraping loudly against the floor, the sound reverberates in the silent hallway. Each step feels like defiance, like a rebellion against everything Sanzu represents—the control, the twisted power he holds over you.

In the basement, you find the garbage bin. Without a second thought, you dump the katana in, the clang of steel against metal echoing in the empty space. It isn't enough to truly hurt him, but it's enough to piss him off, enough to make him notice.

And that's what you want, isn't it? To get under his skin the way he always gets under yours? To make him feel something—anything—that isn't amusement at your suffering?

As you walk away, a small, bitter smile tugs at your lips. You know this won't end well. You're playing with fire, and Sanzu is dangerous when pushed. But the part of you that's still reeling from Mikey, still wounded and desperate, craves this chaos. You want to see what will happen when Sanzu finds the katana, want to watch the fury flash across his face. Because for once, you aren't the one falling apart.

Maybe it's madness, or maybe it's something deeper—a need to reclaim some form of control in a world that's stripped you of it. Either way, you aren't running anymore.

You'll face whatever comes next, even if it destroys you.

Manjiro Sano haunts you everywhere. He's with you in the empty bed, a ghost beside you as you stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the dark. When you’re in the kitchen, his voice echoes in your mind, teasing, laughing, pulling you into memories that make your chest tighten with an ache that hasn't dulled. In the mirror, you see him staring back, his familiar, cold gaze mocking you as you brush your teeth, as if daring you to forget the life you shared with him.

It's been weeks since the breakup, but the weight of nine years doesn't just vanish. You were naive to think it would be easy to let go. After all, you didn't just lose Mikey—you lost the future you had envisioned, the dream of always being by his side, no matter what.

You'd never loved anyone else, never felt the safety of another person's arms. You never had a reason to think you'd need to. And when you first learned about the arranged marriage three years ago, you foolishly believed that nothing could ever come between you and Mikey, that love would always win. However, reality had other plans.

Eventually, it all became too much. So, you made a decision. You packed your things and left the apartment you had once shared with him, that place filled with memories—of laughter, of love, of a time when he was truly yours. But now, those memories felt like weights pulling you under, drowning you in a past that you could no longer live in.

So, you found a new place, a smaller apartment far away from that suffocating ghost. You didn't tell anyone from Bonten. Not a soul knew where you were now. It was supposed to be your clean break.

But fate never lets you escape that easily.

Weeks after you've settled into your new life, you find yourself out for a casual walk, basking in the simplicity of a quiet day. An ice cream cone in one hand, a plastic bag of snacks in the other—small, ordinary comforts in an otherwise chaotic life. You're beginning to breathe again, to feel the freedom of being on your own. And then you see him.

Mikey.

He's sitting outside a café, his silver hair catching the sunlight, his posture as calm and unreadable as ever. But next to him is her. His wife. The sight of them together makes your stomach lurch, your heart clenching as if gripped by an iron fist. She's laughing, and though Mikey's face is still as cold and impassive as always, there's something different about him. Softer. He looks at her in a way that sends a sharp pang through your chest.

He's moving on.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, the world feels like it's tilting on its axis. You need to get out of here. Now.

Before you can make your escape, though, you spot them. Ran's lazy, amused expression is the first thing you notice, his sharp eyes locking onto you with that all-too-familiar smirk.

"Well, well. Look who it is," he drawls, his voice dripping with mockery. But it's the presence next to him that makes your blood run cold.

Sanzu.

The moment his gaze lands on you, the air around you thickens. His eyes narrow, his lips curl into a sneer, and you know. He knows. You can almost feel the anger rolling off of him, simmering beneath the surface. You've crossed a line with him, and now, you'll pay for it.

Your heart hammers in your chest, panic seizing your throat. The plastic bag slips from your hand, the ice cream falling, forgotten, as it splatters against the pavement. You don't even care. All that matters now is getting away.

You turn and run.

"Oi!" Sanzu's voice slices through the air, sharp and dangerous. "Stop running!"

Like hell you will.

You know what he's capable of, and you know there's nothing holding him back now—not Mikey, not anyone. Not after what you did. The memory flashes in your mind—the clattering of metal, the weight of his katana in your hands as you threw it into the trash. The reckless satisfaction of it all.

You can hear his footsteps behind you, the sound growing louder with each passing second. He's faster than you remember, and your chest tightens in fear. Sanzu is dangerous even when he's calm, but this?

This is personal.

The crowded street is a blur as you dash through it, weaving past confused onlookers, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. Dignity is the last thing on your mind right now—you're running for survival. And yet, amidst the chaos, a ridiculous thought crosses your mind: If I die today, I'll die looking like shit. No makeup, no cute clothes, just sweat and terror.

You can feel him gaining on you, the heat of his rage practically burning at your back, and desperation grips you. You need to think fast, or you won't make it. That's when you spot the riverbank up ahead, the water glistening in the distance.

Without a second thought, you sprint toward it, your feet barely touching the ground as you throw yourself into the icy water. The shock of the cold steals your breath, but you don't stop moving. You swim, forcing your body through the water, the chill biting into your skin.

When you finally break the surface, you gasp, a fleeting moment of triumph swelling in your chest. You've escaped.

Or so you think.

Your heart sinks when you see him standing on the riverbank, his figure dark and ominous against the bright sky. Sanzu is already peeling off his blazer, his eyes fixed on you with a predator's focus. There's no hesitation as he tosses it aside and kicks off his shoes. Of course, he's going to follow you. Of course, he's not letting this go.

You should have known better.

Sanzu dives into the water without a second thought, cutting through the current with frightening speed. And that's when it hits you—he isn't just chasing you out of anger. He's chasing you because you've crossed a line you can never uncross. Because Sanzu doesn't follow any rules, doesn't have any boundaries.

And neither of you are sane enough to stop now.

< part two ends >

author's notes. heyy beloved sanzu kinnies <3 i'm so so happy & grateful for all the love you showed to part one of BNT that i decided to bless you guys with twice as long part two hehe :D hope you guys enjoyed it! i've got some fun stuff planned for sanzu and y/n in the next part... so please stay tuned! also, i'd love to hear your thoughts so do leave some notes & comments!! tysm for reading guys! stay awesome ☆(>ᴗ•)

taglist. @iluv-ace @reiners-milkbiddies @bontenbabyy @risheliette @loveantonnlee @sukunas-bitxh @honeygonebads-blog @r3yk @soilaluna @l1ttl3m1ss666 @novv @slvdsjjk @miffysoo @qyoongi @drakensdarling @ask-the-insect-hashira @awkwardaardvarkforever @thebiggestlovergirlever @shinichirolover @kyyuuuuu @meowww1041 @kiasnotforever (comment below if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)

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hai7ani · 5 days ago

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Haitani Rindou is known to not be a very serious person.

There is nothing serious about him at all. He liaises with a bored look on his face, doesn't really attend executive meetings unless Mikey is there, and spends the rest of his days at his own club drowning in the girls, the music or the alcohol, and maybe letting off some steam by snatching away Sanzu's job.

But he is serious today. Angry, even.

The air is tense and it reeks of expensive European cologne when he steps one foot into the room. Briefcases filled with illegal substances welcomes his sight on the coffee table and tall stacks of cold, hard cash residing on his desk.

A man sits with one dirty shoe on his favourite British-imported sofa smoking a cigar, and Kokonoi Hajime on the opposite couch calm and collected.

There is also a girl crawling on all fours with a hot pink leash on her neck, tighter than a dog's collar.

Her skin glimmers under the dim lighting 一 with hints of blood that he could still recognise across her arms, but mostly with sweat. Her lips are pale, wobbly, and tears are pouring out of her sockets. Hurt and fear evident in her eyes.

She is you.

The dress that he got you 一 handpicked for you delicately 一 all ripped and torn and it barely clings onto your body anymore like it did all the time. You look like you're about to pass out anytime soon.

Haitani Rindou is filled with rage.

"Ah, Haitani! Just the man that I was looking for. Come, have a seat." The man invites with a huge menacing grin on his face, as he puts out the cigar on his expensive sofa.

It's my fucking office, you motherfucker.

Mario Ricci 一 he thinks it was, pauses counting the stacks of cash in his hands when Rindou does not move as he says. "Hmm?" He follows along his gaze which turns out to be stuck at you on the floor. His Italian accent is thick and heavy when he speaks, almost sounding like an ancient bard.

"I was passing through your halls and I saw this wonderful beauty standing right there, and I thought," he pauses, bending down slow to look at you.

"She'd be a perfect little mutt."

He tugs on the leash looped around his left hand, hard. His cologne fills up your nostrils from the distance and it is the only thing you can breathe in. More tears pool around your eyes as you cough 一 your throat is sore and the skin around it hurts. The buckle pushes hard against the side of your neck and he tugs another time.

"You wouldn't mind if I took this one home with me, yeah? You have plenty of sluts in your establishment already." There is a teasing glint in his eyes when he finally lets go, only to reach down and drag on your disheveled locks of hair.

He guides you like that 一 impatient and harsh 一 while you struggle with movement because you cannot look down at your hands, as you carefully crawl against the carpeted floor with your scalp red and painful.

You start sobbing again when he pulls away, and you lock eyes with the man that owns you, standing by the door.

There is fire in his eyes when he finally sees the picture that Mario painted for him. You're kneeling between his legs with two palms flat on the floor, catching your breath with uncontrollable drool dripping off your tongue.

Like a damn dog.

"God, she'd make a damn good slut. But I'm sure you already are during your time here, yeah, baby?" He taps on your cheek and swipes the drool away.

Your gaze is cloudy when you stare into Rindou's eyes. You're broken and battered. Your eyes no longer bright and shiny as when they used to admire him in the night, in his bed, when you'd draw your fingers along the lines and curves of his tattoos 一 they're filled with fear and you are so tired. You're shaking all around and you're so cold. You're a lot colder than what he's used to letting you feel. His fists tighten any more, deep in his pockets.

But he can still read you like an open book.

"This is a five million dollar deal." Kokonoi cuts in. "Can we be fucking serious? Just take the slut for free, Ricci. She's yours. We have more important things to talk about."

A quiet mewl escapes your throat when Mario grins, very satisfied with Kokonoi's words. You start to cry, begging, when he wraps a hand around your chin and bends down to give your cheek a wet kiss, disgustingly. You don't look away from Rindou the whole time.

Please don't give me away.

The sound of a gun clicking catches everyone's attention. You look him dead in the eye and he can hear you loud and clear.

Haitani Rindou isn't serious about a lot of things.

"Fucking let her go."

But he is serious about you.

"Or I'll put a bullet through your throat and it'll be no deal for all of us."

His own slut.

His favourite girl.

Sequel

#writing #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev x reader #tokrev #tr x reader #tr #bonten x reader #bonten #tokyo revengers smut

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turtleblogatlast · 10 months ago

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Love when people play with the idea that one of Leo’s katana could have accidentally been left in the Prison Dimension and furthermore I love when that idea has Consequences™️.

Oh a chunk of your soul is in a place nothing can escape unless by means of ripping a hole through dimensions? Good luck with that.

Imagine Leo doesn’t realize it at first, and just assumes that this off, empty feeling is just “depression kicking it up a notch haha.” Later, he thinks it’s “probably just the ✨trauma✨, that’s what Mikey’s pamphlet said, I guess.”

And then, his body heals, and the brothers go out on the first mission they’d had in a while.

Leo goes to teleport and-

He’d never known what the in-between state of teleportation felt like until then. Seeing the world in a state of everything and nothing, simultaneously. To witness reality as a mass of molecules, just an infinite well of things put together to make a whole, and he, too, is broken into pieces yet he feels it all. He doesn’t know what’s happening, and it doesn’t really hurt but it’s-

In a blink, he’s at his katana, his teleport successful.

He’d been in the inbetween for ten minutes.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #listen I love the prison dimension I love Leo’s teleportation and portal abilities and I love when two cool concepts overlap soooo #idk it’s late and I wanted to ramble #Basically take Leo’s abilities but add a bit of ~delay~ to them #I know now that both swords fall out the portal I’m p sure but CONSIDER #could have so easily had one not go through the portal on time or just barely miss out on falling though

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somerandomdudelmao · 1 year ago

Note

there's something so potent about mikey's spirit protecting leo and i'm going to try to put it into words here but forgive me if i don't accurately get my point across

by all accounts - mikey should have shattered along with his body. and you can see the evidence of that because his spirit is cracked and fraying and glitching just like when he was alive and pushing himself too far. and yet against all fucking odds he's holding himself together and ripping through the veil almost the same way casey is just so he can stand over his big brother and return the favor leo's been doing for years - saying 'don't touch him'

leo's been acting as a shield, but even shields wear down and crack and break because they're meant to take hits, to protect the person on the other side, but nothing in this world is indestructible - not forever.

recently i learned more about radiation therapy, the way it can target certain areas in the body with the right settings, but also the way it progressively wears you down because as much as it can help you, it's also hurting you. it feels very similar to the way leo stands directly in the path of the krang's power because 'i don't have magic, it can't hurt me' but it can because the magic was there once and nothing is ever fully erased from existence. it doesn't feel like it's hurting him, but it is. and like a wilting plant trying to sprout new growth, repeatedly exposed to blistering sunlight but never being watered because 'it's already wilting and dying, there's no point' - but there's always something beneath the soil, some remnant that toils ever upward to keep growing and living. leo's never really given himself a chance, has he? because he's been so focused on keeping mikey out of harm's way that he never stopped to dig down a little further and find those roots, still trying to take hold.

there's no way of knowing at this point in the story if leo is ever supposed to find his magic/ninpo again, but wouldn't that be something? anything can grow, given the right environment and attention. take what's left from the ruined timeline and plant him in new soil, free of warfare, safe with his brothers, and who knows what could grow.

and if mikey is there? if his family is there? you can be damn well sure they're going to water anything that looks like new growth - why wouldn't they? it's time to return the favor, after all.

Yes yep mhm uh huh YES T H I S

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darlingshane · 5 months ago

Text

vicious circle

Michael Berzatto x Spanish/F!Reader

Summary: You're ready to put an end to your complicated relationship with Michael, but he's not ready to let you go.

CW: 18+, explicit, smut, angst, oral sex (f. receiving), workplace relationships, boss/employee relationship.

Word Count: 2.4k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

This is it.

You’re done with him.

You’ve said that way too many times, and each time you’ve gone back to Michael.

Today feels different.

You’ve reached your limit, and you’re not going to break or give in to his worn-out excuses. It’s time to put your foot down once and for all, or he’ll keep walking all over you.

It’s something you’ve been thinking of for a while, and you can’t keep putting it off. So, at the end of the night when he goes outside to have a smoke after closing, you take that further step and leave an envelope on his desk with your name on the back and a two weeks’ notice. You could have sent it in an email, but he hardly ever checks his account and having something physical makes it more official and imminent. You know he’s not going to miss it cause every day he sits at his desk to go over the pile of bills after closing. And it only takes him five minutes to give up and go find the closest place open to get drunk.

Michael is still in the alleyway when you return to the kitchen to finish cleaning your station along with Tina.

There’s a song playing on your phone that you propped on one of the shelves. Occasionally, you hum and mumble the lyrics that you know so well. It’s a powerful Spanish ballad from an album you grew up listening to that really rips your soul apart. It’s about his guy that’s stuck in this vicious circle with a girl that does nothing but lie to him. She’s constantly changing his mind, coming to be with him whenever she feels like it, disregarding his feelings. And he can’t do anything but take her back when she returns.

The lyrics roughly translate to – She combs and tangles my soul. She walks with me, but I don’t know where she’s going. My rival, my partner. She’s deep inside my life and at the same time she’s so out of it.

It’s the perfect song to describe your situationship with Michael. Your back and forth with Michael Berzatto is nothing but a constant headache, and you refuse to be like the guy in those lyrics and let him use you whenever he wants to.

The music changes to something more upbeat in your playlist when the song ends, and you can see Tina from the corner of your eye shyly swinging to the beat.

When Michael comes back into the kitchen, he picks up Tina’s hand and starts spinning her and dancing around with her animatedly with a big smile on his face, singing along, stirring a laugh out of her.

Every other day, he’s like a fucking black cloud sucking all the air out of the room with all his gloom and doom. But tonight, he’s in a really good mood, and you love it, cause you’re about to change that. He’s caused you so much pain that it’s only fair to take your stab at poking the bear for once.

“C’mon, that’s enough, Mikey. I gotta finish here and pick up the kid.”

He gives Tina one final spin to end the dance, and tells her to go home, that he’ll finish in the kitchen.

It wouldn’t be the first time he's done that.

The thing with Michael is that he never follows through with anything he says. He's just empty words and promises. When he says he’s going to do something for you, like cleaning your station, you’ll always return the next day to find it how you left it cause he really doesn’t give a fuck.

While she slips off his kiss-printed trademarked apron and goes to the lockers to pick up her stuff, Michael tells you that you can leave too. But you stubbornly shake your head without looking at him.

“Okay, have at it,” he scoffs and retires to the office.

You're scrubbing the surface of the stove imagining wiping that grin off his face when he opens the envelope.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, chula.” Tina says from the entrance to the kitchen.

“I won't. Buenas noches.” (Goodnight.)

“Buen-” she starts saying back but is quickly interrupted by Michael who comes out again, wearing the scowl you proudly put on his face.

“Can I see you in my office?”

“Todavía no he terminado.” (I haven't finished yet.)

“I don’t give a shit about that. Office. Now.” He orders storming back into his little cluttered room.

You glance to the side to see Tina still standing there, throwing a most puzzled look at you.

“¿Pero qué le has hecho?” (What have you done to him?)

“¿Yo? Nada.” You shrug casually. (Me? Nothing.)

“Estaba el pobre de tan buen humor. De verdad que te gusta arruinarle el día al jefe.” She says with a humorous tone. (Poor guy was in such a good mood. You really enjoy ruining the boss’ day.)

“Puto cabrón likes ruining mine,” you scoff, cleaning your hands in the sink before taking off your apron and turning off the music on your phone.

“You two are more alike than you think. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I’ll try.”

Tina finally bids you good night before leaving out the back door.

Taking in a fortifying breath, you pause for a second before crossing the doomed threshold into his office.

He's sitting on his chair, staring blankly at your notice letter.

“You're not quitting,” he says, swiveling in his seat as if you had no other choice.

You clutch your fist to keep yourself from giving up to his objection. Printing your nails on the heel of your hand reminds you to remain strong and firm in your decision.

“You're not my boss. Well, you are for a few more days, but you have no right to force me to stay.”

“You're a fucking piece of work. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“Takes one to know one. I'm just so fed up with all this shit, with you, with this fucking place…”

“What? You found a better job than this?”

“No. But I will. Why? Don't you think I can't, motherfucker?”

“Didn't say you couldn’t. I'm sure with your experience you have many better options than this, sweetheart.”

“Then, what's the problem?”

“I can't just let you go.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you practically run this place. If you leave…”

“You'd have to hire someone else to fill my position, and would have to pay them more than you can't pay me.” You finish the sentence when he trails off. “You're so full of shit, Michael. You and I both know that the only reason you won't let me go is cause you can’t handle seeing me moving on. You could just say that instead of being a coward.”

“I’m the coward? That’s rich. How many times have you said you were leaving and backtracked?”

“This time is different. You've left me no choice. I'm busting my ass here and for what? For nothing. I pick up all the slack, I do everything you refuse to do and wait, you still never thank me for it, you never even considered giving me a raise.”

“Is this about money? You know I'd pay you more if I could.”

“I don't care anymore. I'm done bailing you out and trying to save something that doesn't wanna be saved.”

“Are we talking about me or the shop now?”

“Both. I can't be working here, and have you coming and going out of my life whenever you want to. I’m sick of your games. You can't say you won't let me go and then sit all day in the middle of the kitchen, so I can hear you yapping with Richie about this girl and this other girl you screwed. You're fucking toxic, and unprofessional. I doubt anyone will ever put up with your shit for as long as I have.”

Out of frustration, you dig your nails so hard into your skin it almost stings, but it helps you keep you from breaking in the middle of that sentence.

“I didn't fuck anyone. I was just messing with you.”

“Mira,” you sigh, defeated, “you're exhausting and incredibly immature for a forty-year-old. Get your shit together. I don't care what you do, or where you stick your dick in. I'm done. Let me be done, Michael.”

“I can't.” He finally stands up to level up with you, but leans on the desk instead. “Let's work on a solution. Tell me what do I have to do for you to stay?”

“Give me a raise. Stop being an asshole. And grow up.” You enumerate sharply.

You do have a few more in your list, but those are the main three.

“I can do two out of three.”

You can't stop the urge of rolling your eyes cause you know he's pathological.

“No deal.”

“Please, don't do this. I'm begging you here. Do I need to get down on my knees?”

That'd be a first.

“Look, I promise to stay away from you, or talk shit with Richie when you're around. You won't hear anything like that again. Just… please, this will fall apart without you, mi vida. If you really need a raise I'll think of something. But give me some time. I…”

The desperation in his voice cracks your armor, and you can't help but feel sorry for him. It's that familiar feeling that doesn't let you escape his hold on you, even when you’re well versed in his bullshit and know that always promises big, but never delivers.

It's weak and fucking pathetic to see how you fall for it every time he calls you mi vida. (my life)

Your fist unclenches, letting your defenses abandon you because you're just as bound to this place and his lies as much as he is.

His posture straightens, shortening the distance between you and him. One of his hands reaches to frame your chin, and you inevitably let him hold your face, leaning on his touch, as he inches closer to capture your lips.

“Lo siento, mi vida,” he mumbles while his mouth gently bounces against yours a couple of times. “I promise I'll do better.”

“Stop promising. Just show me, Michael.”

With his hand still holding your face, he glances at your eyes before focusing on your lips again, watching up close his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Fuck, you look so hot when you're angry,” he deflects cause he can't cope with the fact that you're right— he’s fucked up.

“Fuck you,” your grit stirs a chuckle out of him as he pushes your back against the wall.

A second later, he’s seizing your mouth once more, tearing apart your invisible armor away as his tongue slides to break the last defense you’ve put up. You let him, cause at the end of the day you still love him. No matter how many times he’s wronged you, you can’t bear the thought of leaving him stranded.

The desperation burning at the tip of his tongue is intoxicating. The only thing you can do is give in and kiss him back with nothing but anger. Which he happily accepts. He has you where he wants to– pinned against the wall, his hands devouring your body, and letting you drown in the depths of his mouth while he steals every last breath until your lips hurt.

When he’s done with your mouth, he moves to your neck. His bearded face scratches your skin as he mouths his way all over the surface; carelessly nibbling and sucking your flesh raw between his teeth, leaving his mark.

“Dime, corazón… what do I have to do for you to believe that I’m for real this time?” His breath catches in your ear. (Say, sweetheart…)

You almost break into laughter. It seems like a joke. You won’t believe anything until you see it, but you play along.

“Eat my pussy.”

“You’ll believe me if I do that?”

“No, but it’d be a start. Hey, you say you wanted to get on your knees to beg… So beg me.”

Pegging you with a look, he doesn’t hesitate to follow your request.

You watch him gravitate toward the floor on one knee without taking his eyes off you. His fingers swiftly open your jeans, tugging them down to your ankles. He licks his lips, letting his fingers scratch the surface of your thighs before pulling down your panties too. Then he buries his face between your legs and works his tongue to tell the same lies to your clit. He laps around it like he does with your relationship, touching the edges without diving further into the core. He’s always known exactly how to give you enough to satisfy your cravings but always leaves you asking for more. You want his soul and body to be yours, only yours. Right now, the only thing you own it’s his mouth and fingers that work together in harmony with the tickling of his beard to coax your orgasm to the surface.

He’s two-knuckle deep, fingertips pressing directly on your g-spot, when his lips finally wrap around that swollen bud. You have to grip on his hair to keep your knees from buckling down as he drives you to the finish line.

Pulling hard on his locks makes him grunt sinfully against your folds. You tug again and again, earning yourself a string of groans and curse words printed directly on your cunt. A mild wave of bliss flows nicely all over your body as he slips his dripping fingers out of you. He brings them to his mouth and licks him clean as you regain your breathing.

“You taste as good as I remember.”

“Don’t forget about it when you’re eating out some other puta.” You grumble pulling your panties and jeans up.

“Hm,” he stands and lifts your chin with those same fingers that were inside you. “You know I’d never do that to you.”

“No, no lo sé.” You lightly shake your head. (No, I don’t know.)

“I’m telling you.”

“A lot of shit comes from your stupid mouth.”

“A lot of good things go in too… Like you,” he deliberately licks his lips, collecting the shining remains of you.

“Just remember, next time you won’t get a chance like this. I’ll simply leave. And no more pussy for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

#jon bernthal #michael berzatto #michael berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #mikey berzatto #mikey berzatto x reader #smut #darlingwrites

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rinhaler · 1 year ago

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holding you at gun point to write smth abt draken with this <3 (bonus points if daddy kink bc daddy issues go brrrrr)

ohhhhh my first tr writing on this blog lets gooooooooo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, cheating, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spit.

words: 1.1k

“Fuck—” you moan, feeling the impact of being slammed against the wall by Draken before he suffocates you as his lips encase yours. He’s so touchy, always has been, though things might have gone a tad too far this time. “K-Kenny, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Sh, baby.” he interrupts, kissing you again before he trails his lips lovingly along your jawline and gropes your breast as he starts suck kisses into your neck.

“What about Mi- What about Manjiro?” you gasp, angling your neck to give him better access to you. You suppose you aren’t truly thinking about Manjiro at all. “He’ll be s-so mad at you, and me, Kenny, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

He silences you as he lifts you fully into his hold, your legs wrap around his waist and you capture him in another kiss. You can feel how hard he is, even through his jeans. And his moans, God, his fucking moans are spellbinding. You’d happily face Mikey’s wrath if it meant you can listen to Draken grunt and groan like this for you whenever you please.

“Fuck Mikey,” Draken tells you, his voice dropping a few octaves as he drops you down onto your mattress below. “I saw you first, y’know. Knew you were meant to be mine the moment I saw ya. And he fucking—” he stops himself, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him.

Desperate hands reach and grab to hold him in any capacity. But he pulls away to yank down your panties. Although, his frenzied hands are too impatient, ripping them apart with ease.

You sit upright to chase him, eager to kiss him once more. He breaks it to throw his shirt over his head into a crumpled pile at the foot of your bed. He watches you, huffing excitedly as you undo his belt and pull down his zipper.

He grabs your chin, jerking your gaze upwards so that your needy, shimmering eyes answer the question of just how much you want him. Or, rather, need him. They’re glittering with want and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier pair of eyes.

You break the stare, your head drooping as you pull down his jeans and underwear in the same eager motion.

You’re almost salivating when you see his cock for the first time. Oh, he’s perfect. His leaking cockhead is flushed beautifully as he aches for you. He’s so messy, so beautiful. And it’s all for you. He smirks upon seeing a little bit of drool form on the corner of your slack jawed mouth. He wipes it, softly, before pushing you onto your back.

“You’re fucking soaked…” he laughs softly, pushing two fingers into your tight heat and scissoring you open briefly. His hands, you’ve never failed to notice, are massive. They’re veiny and intimidating, his fingers curl deep in your walls. And they venture deep enough to have you screaming as he finds your g-spot. “I can’t wait anymore, baby, I’m sorry… hope that was enough for ya.” he warns you, pulling out his fingers and lining up his cockhead with your wet hole.

“Unff, f-fuck, Kenny…” you mewl, nails clawing into his muscular back as he splits you open on his length.

“Fuuuuuck me, baby.” he chuckles shallowly, slotting himself inside fully until he has no length left to give. And he fucks you, slow but deep. Skin slapping against skin filling the room you sleep in, usually, beside Mikey. “Your pussy’s made for me, can feel it…” he tells you, kissing you right after.

“Wanna be d-daddy shaped, p-please, fuck me hard.” you tell him. Black eyes widen with lust and adoration after hearing you speak so salaciously. A large hand frames the lower half of your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker for him. And he can’t help himself, he can’t fucking control himself. You see his mouth contort and then you’re hit with a glob of saliva, his spit landing perfectly between your lips and slithering onto your tongue.

“Swallow it, baby, g-good girl…” he struggles to keep his composure as he fucks into you. You are a good girl. So obedient, so fucking perfect. And the moan that leaves him is almost angelic as he watches you swallow his spit so beautifully. “This is daddy’s pussy, yeah? Gonna let me fuck this little cunt as much as I want, aren’t you? Until you’re fuckin’ mine.” he speaks, knowing in reality it makes no sense. You’re already his, in his mind.

Consequences be damned.

You wrap your arms around his body, holding him close as he pounds into you. You know you have to be quick about this, Manjiro could be home at any minute. But you can’t stop before you’re satisfied. Before you’re done. Before you’re fucking ready. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment as he lets himself enjoy the moment, fully.

And you practically feel his cock twitch when he pulls away to look into your pathetic wet eyes. Are you really going to cry from the pleasure? Is he making you feel that good?

“P-Put a baby in me, daddy?” you blink up at him so fucking innocently. Are you serious? Have you forgotten who you’re meant to be committed to and that you’re not meant to be doing this right now? Draken isn’t sure he heard you right. Not until you repeat it with a broken whisper and little please please please’s spilling from your lips with each thrust.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so fast in his life. Fractured moans fighting their way out of his lungs as he fucks his cum hard and deep into your unprotected womb.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” he apologies, he’d had no intention of cumming that quickly. “’m not done with you.” he promises, pushing one of your knees into your chest before searching for your aching clit as you make out nastily.

Tongues and moans dizzying your brain with each swipe of his fingers.

You hope Manjiro won’t be home anytime soon.

Because you can’t get enough of his best friend.

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #ken ryuguji #tokyo revengers fanfic #draken smut #ken ryuguji smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji x y/n #tw cheating #tw breeding kink #tw daddy kink #tw spit

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katanablue · 5 months ago

Text

Leo + getting caught

Warnings: female reader, fingering (m+f), semi public, you get CAUGHT

Leonardo was supposed to be training you, teaching you basic self defense and he was! For the first hour at least. It had become a weekly thing for the two of you, Leo worried out of his turtle mind for you whenever you were by yourself. He wanted you to be able to protect yourself, as any good boyfriend would, so he took it upon himself to teach you how to defend yourself and get away if you ever found yourself in such a predicament. He hopes you never do but he’d prefer to be safe than sorry.

Today he was teaching you how to break out of several holds but gradually he learned that the continuous press of your sweaty body against his, combined with your grunts and moans, was steadily doing more harm than good.

Something about your smell today was enticing him more than usual and he isn’t sure why. But at this point he doesn’t care, not when he has one of his thick fingers buried deep inside you, mouthing at your neck and nipping every now and then while you drip so prettily onto his wrist. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull your pants down completely, just shoving his hand past the waistband and straight to your core. He practically moaned when he felt how wet you already were, the slick sounds reaching his ears and probably echoing throughout the training room. Leo’s got you pressed tight against the wall, subtly grinding his lower half against you while attempting to quiet his own sounds of pleasure.

Your left leg is barely hooked around him, the ridge of his shell digging into your flesh while your right arm is wrapped around the back of his neck. His mask ends are twisted in your fingers, your lips brushing against his cheek while you pant oh so beautifully against his ear.

Leo is rarely, rarely one to do something like this in public, especially in a place he considers so sacred like the dojo. But he just couldn’t help himself anymore; with the way you were breathing heavily whenever he had you trapped and how beads of sweat would roll down your neck and disappear down the center of your chest and into your shirt.

All it took was one flick of your eyes from his to his lips for him to crack.

“Smell so good,” He rasps against your throat, licking up your pulse and collecting sweat before biting at your jawline. He curls his fingers more within you, going to quickly swallow up your moan and shove his tongue into your mouth.

“Can you take another?” He whispers, prodding another finger at your entrance.

With a shaky breath you nod at him, taking your free arm to trail down his plastron to begin stroking his cloaca. He hisses at the contact, ready to just drop into your waiting hand. Leo adjusts himself to start rubbing at your clit, slowly pushing his second finger inside you.

“Good girl.” He growls lowly, plunging his fingers even deeper inside. Two of your own fingers just barely breach inside his slit, feeling his already hard member. You’re ready to take him into your palm, stroke him so that he can feel as heavenly as you do right now.

A high pitched scream pierces your ears, followed by a “Ew! Guys, what the heck!”

Leo rips himself away from you, hand retracting from your pants when the voice of Mikey rings in his ears and shatters the lust filled moment. Embarrassment floods your entire body, your cheeks setting aflame and you quickly adjust yourself to look decent. Leo keeps his lower half turned towards you to hide himself, anger and shame evident on his features.

“Michelangelo!”

The orange clad brother had quickly covered his eyes when he stumbled upon the raunchy scene of his friend and eldest brother, feigning gagging and turning quickly to face the other way.

“Seriously? Leonardo, I would’ve thought that you of all people would’ve known better. For shame brother, for shame.” Mikey tuts and exits the room, wiggling a finger up in the air. He leaves the two of you to bask in your awkwardness, you and Leo glancing at everywhere but each other. He clears his throat and turns to face you, taking a hold of your hand.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly.

“Other than being totally and completely utterly humiliated? Peachy.” You mumble, taking another look at the exit before landing on Leo. He gives you an apologetic smile, rubbing his finger over the back of your hand.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He sighs and uses his free hand to rub his forehead, horrified at allowing himself to get so swept up in his lust for you.

Now it was your turn to give an apologetic smile, gently nudging his arm with yours.

“It’s fine. I mean, we’re all gonna be scarred for the time being but,” You lean forward and kiss his cheek, happy to see when Leo smiles and turns his head to give you another peck.

“For what it’s worth, it was very sexy seeing you unable to restrain yourself.” You tease in an attempt to make light of the situation.

Leo scoffs but laughs, another wave of heat flushing through his cheeks as the image of Mikey catching the two of you passes through his brain again.

“Yeah well, maybe we can continue this back at your place. Where there will be no interruptions.” He’s already interlaced your fingers and pulls you towards the exit without waiting for answer.

Because how could you ever say no to your favorite leader in blue? Especially when you know that you’ll be able to scream his name without any restrictions?

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #leonardo x reader #tmnt 2003 #2003 leo x reader #my writings

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baby-tini · 5 months ago

Note

I SAW U SAID MIKEY BRAIN ROT IS BACK….

So how about yandere kantou mikey w a reader who runs a flower shop? :3 perhaps smut maybe so…if you feel like it…..

When you met Mikey, you knew who he was, you would've been stupid if you didn't. But you didn't expect too bump into him outside the flower shop, that you had owned, passes down in a family business. You had bumped into him and fallin' on your ass, flowers spreading around you, some getting in your hair as you looked up at him. He had been awestruck in all honesty the first time he saw you, you looked a little angel to him. Wide eyes looking up at him while you pout, he became hooked that very moment. Visiting you everyday after that, pushing away trouble, even though, he was the epitome of it. He hasn't missed a day, always chatting you up at work. When Mikey had asked you too be his, you told him no at first. You weren't stupid you understood the dangers of being in a gang, muchless being the bosses girlfriend. Other gangs would try and kill you just by association. When you explained your worries after he had repeatedly asked you out, he laughed in your face but then he quickly turned serious and grabbed your hands. Repeating the promise that he would protect you with his life, and he held true to that promise since that very day. He's very rarely not by your side and when he isn't, again very rarely, he leaves his only most trusted men with you, ready to die for you, as ordered by Manjiro Sano himself. The first time Mikey had kissed you it had also turned into your first time, it was when you were closing shop. He had come in as your shift ended and had planned too take you home but, you still needed too get a few things done before you left. It wasn't planned for, it was more on impulse and it was sloppy, but... a cute kind of sloppy, his hands were all over you. Pulling at your shirt only top then just shove his hands under it. He wasn't the most coordinated, going off that you assumed he wasn't the most experienced either. But that wasn't really a problem for you since you were barley experienced yourself and you were happy that Mikey was going to be your first time. He had laid you down on a flower bed of loose petals, kissing down your neck as he ripped open your shirt, tearing it down the neck line and pulling you towards him too push it off your shoulders. As he tears your bra at the clasps and roughly pulls at the straps, pushing them down your arms as he throws, said bra, to the side as he kissed down your chest. Leaving hickeys and bite marks on your skin, coming back later to nurse the sore skin with his tongue. Kissing down your chest too tug at your nipples with his teeth, rolling his tongue around the perked nipple, head back as you lean back on your arms. Moving your hair away from your chest and running a hand through his hair as he leaves sloppy kisses between your tits. Grabbing a fistfull of his haie too bring back toy your lips, kissing him as he slips tongue in while you push off his Kanto jacket and tug at his shirt. He pulls back, pulling his shirt off and throwing it to the side as he leans down too kiss you again, wrapping an arm around the back of your waist and pulling you towards him. Messily un-doing his, you struggle with getting lose but he just pushes your hands away pushes you back against the flower petals. Un-doing the button and pulling zipper down as he lifts your skirt and pushes your panties to the side. Slipping his tip in and rubbing your thighs as he groans, it's a stretch too take in the tip, your stomach sucking in and tensing as your hands press against his chest, also tense. He pushes your hands away and gathers both your wrists in a single hand as he pins them above your head and continues too slowly push in.

A huffed out whine that turns into a wince, escapes your lips as your face turns to the side. He uses his free hand too turn your face towards him and a grin splits his lips, "ah ah, you're gonna look at me while I fuck you open, yeah?" You give him a groan before turning your face back towards him with a small pout. He rubs his left thumb across your cheek, under your eye as he fully pushes in. His abs flexing as he pants, slowly inhaling as his eyes shut tight and he groans. He moves his free hand too rest by your head, holding his weight up, as he leans down to your face and capturing your lips in a kiss. Wrapping your legs around his waist, tight, you lean up a bit, using him as leverage too kiss him back. Pulling back too kiss down his neck and leave marks of your own on his soft skin, licking up his jugular too suck on it later. He leans back a bit, straightening up and starting a slow, bearable pace for you, wincing slightly from how tight you are, as soft velvet grips his cock like a vice. He whines as he slowly pushes back in, he lets go of your wrists, both of his wrists grabbing your hips, his grip tight and bruising as his pace picks up and he fucks into you a little quicker. Bleary eyes stare at you from above, behind long, pretty lashes as he watches your face twist from pain to pleasure because of him. He straightens up fully as he moves you on, his cock, your slick dripping down his balls as they slap against your ass. Your hands quickly clawing at his chest when he goes faster, leaving long red marks, almost drawing blood as your nails dig into his shoulders. He huffs out a chuckle as you twist in his grip but he just pulls you closer, the harsh sound of his balls clapping against your ass meeting your ears. "She's fuckin'- ahhh shit... so fuckin' tight." It falls from him in a huff as he tenses his arms and shoulders, his nails digging into your thigh as he groans behind sealed lips. Fucking into you harder as you push at his chest. Back arching as you loudly whine into the empty shop. Squeezing eyes shut as you claw at the loose petals, tears clinging to your lashes, making your eyes sting as the salty liquid rolls down your cheeks. He leans down again, on one of his forearms as distracts himself from your soft walls, nipping at your throat, he can feel he's about to cum, the vice grip of your cunt getting impossibly tighter around his cock. "Mmm... gonna- hah.. gonna cum 'jiro, can't.. can't hold it. I need.. I need-" He shushes you, running a hand through your hair and kissing your bare shoulder. Encouraging you too cum for him as he speeds up, the knot in his stomach slipping loose as he fucks himself closer to an orgasm. You bite down on his shoulder as you cum, pussy convulsing around him as you wrap your hands up into his hair and tugging at the blonde chunks. He cums as you tug on the strands of blonde hair, groaning in your ear as rides out the shared orgasm. When he comes to a full stop, cock still balls deep inside you, he pants into your ear with a plead. "Stay with me forever... don't leave me like they did.. please."

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tojisbbg · 2 years ago

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❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

pt.1, pt. 2

a/n: highly requested for pt. 2!! you ask and i shall deliver 😌

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

it was currently seven in the evening, the newlyweds bid the last couple of guests goodbye. throughout the whole event, mikey tried his very best to plaster on the most convincing smile he possibly could to mask the chaos going on inside him.

there was never a second where you’ve left his mind, ghosting through every lane in his brain as he couldn’t focus on anything but you. he felt guilty, knowing that perhaps his marriage wasn’t going to last as long as he had hoped for.

“better invite us to the housewarming party, sano. your wife’s cookies are no joke.” pah nudged mikey, a small laugh leaving his chapped lips as he faintly nodded his head. mikey watched pah walking towards the door before suddenly stopping, watching as his friend bent down to fix the bottom of his wife’s dress. the hopeless boy couldn’t help but watch, observing the affection and love reciprocating between pah and his wife, before they both left together.

in the back of his mind, the memory of you zipping up his jacket properly during the cold winter season, lending him your scarf and making sure that he was all warm and snuggled up was fresh in his mind. you always made sure that he never got sick and when he did, you would ditch everything in your agenda to make it your business to nurse him back to health.

no one has ever cared for him like you have and mikey knew what he had to do.

“honey?” the voice of his wife awakened him from his train of thoughts, turning his head to the side as he was met with a warm smile. god, he felt so guilty for what he has done and was about to do.

“yeah?” he responded, waiting for her to ask.

“i was thinking that the two of us could have a small movie night when we get home.” she suggested, eyes twinkling with hope as mikey gulped harshly.

home.

they bought a house together and planned to live there forever until time was up. but, he always wished that it was you instead. mikey couldn’t bare to look her in the eye, clearing his throat as he tried to think of an excuse.

“it’s been a long day, you must be tired. i’ll drop you home and go over to ken-chin’s place since he suddenly left and isn’t answering my calls. get some rest, okay?” he lied straight through his lips, and his poor wife was too naive and quickly sympathized with it.

“of course, i hope him and y/n are okay. let me know what happens, hm?” suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, making him freeze.

it felt so wrong, like he was being suffocated. mikey didn’t like this one bit at all, it felt too new and unpleasant. he’s been with ___ for a couple years by now and these things were never an issue. yet, after your sudden confession, the regret of not coming clean to his feelings years back ate him alive.

“hm, let’s go.” mikey gave her a smile, placing a hand on her back as he led her out of the church.

the drive to his house was not very long, giving him enough time to quickly slip out of the annoying suit as he slipped on a pair of jeans and a flannel. he saw his wife sitting on the couch, a small bag of chips in her hands as she munched on the salty snack while watching a rom-com movie. she noticed him and gave him a wave, making mikey want to rip his hair out as he just wanted to tell her the truth.

but, he wasn’t ready yet.

he walked over to her and place a faint kiss on her forehead before looking down at her.

“i’ll be back soon.” mikey assured, making her nod as she watched his figure walk out of the front door.

the ride to the brothel was about thirty minutes, making mikey curse on why he bought a place that had to be so far. the urgency to see you grew stronger and stronger with every light and block he passed. mikey quickly parked his car after arriving in front of the brothel before rushing out to go up to the floor where you and draken lived on.

the elevator dinged and he stepped off, now standing in front of your door. his breathing became irregular, anxiety swallowing him up whole. all the possibilities of you hating him and banishing him away from your life scared him to death. a shaky fist came up to the wooden door, knocking twice.

the door opened, revealing his tall best friend, staring down at him with a death stare that made chills run down his spine.

“ke-”

“what do you want?” draken brashly cut him off, making mikey’s lips agape as this sudden behavior from his right-hand man was completely unexpected. surely he knows that you might’ve ranted to draken about whatever happened between you two, but usually draken doesn’t like to get involved in neither your or mikey’s personal life.

“i just came to see y/n and talk with her, five minutes is all i’m asking for.” mikey chewed on his lower lip, eyes sternly on his shoes as he couldn’t bare to see his friend look at him with such hate-filled eyes. draken bitterly laughed, making mikey wince in pain as he knew that this was going to be bad.

“oh, so now you wanna see her, huh? you disappeared for nine fucking years, sano. nine damn years! you didn’t care about my little sister at all, whether she was alive or dead. did she tell you that she fell sick from not eating because she was looking for you? how she couldn’t sleep a single night in peace ‘cause she thought you were dead? of course not, you were too busy being blind and fucking some other bitch.” draken yelled through gritted teeth, making mikey look up at him with anger.

“mind your fucking words, don’t call ___ a bitch.” the shorter spat out, tension growing between the both.

“how rude of me, i forgot that you were a gentleman. well then, goodnight.” draken scoffed, attempting to close the door before a foot lodged into the remaining space.

“please, all i’m asking for is five minutes.” mikey begged, tears welling in his eyes.

“you had nine years to talk to her, but you didn’t. there is no five minutes, mikey.” the taller spoke, voice know cracking as mikey’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“w-what do you mean? where’s y/n? don’t just stay quiet, answer me!” he grabbed onto draken’s arms, only to have it harshly ripped away from his grasp.

“she’s dead! y/n is dead, my sister is gone.” the tears that draken has been holding on since mikey has arrived came flooding down, as he glared at his best friend with bitterness.

the words kept on repeating inside of mikey’s mind, taunting him as it felt like time has stopped. for some reason, it felt as if his body turned into stone, he couldn’t move. suddenly, a wave of rage began to build up, making him grit his teeth before balling his fists. anger clouded his sight as all he saw was red, eyes darkening.

“you piece of shit!” mikey bellowed, lunging towards draken before landing a hard punch on his jaw. remi screamed in horror, panicking as she saw both men breaking out into a violent fight.

“you knew about her tumor! you fucking knew and you didn’t tell me?! what kind of a fucking friend are you, traitorous jackass!” mikey continued to throw endless amounts of punches on draken’s face, receiving some back as well, but no matter how hard draken hit, he felt numb.

“stop!” remi yelled, before throwing her shoe at mikey’s head, making him wince at the stinging pain the heel left. draken was on the ground, breathing heavily as he shoved the smaller figure on top of him to the side.

“do you think that beating each other to death will bring y/n back? do you think she’ll be happy? huh?!” the girl sobbed, landing a hard slap on each of their cheeks as both draken and mikey looked down at the floor in shame.

“her death was inevitable, that tumor was a ticking bomb. she’s finally free from those painful chemo sessions, headaches, vomiting and seizure episodes. she won’t suffer anymore.” remi sadly smiled, body trembling as draken pulled her into his chest.

“i deserved to know, she was my other half.” mikey lowly spoke, tears pooling in his eyes, blurring his vision.

“you didn’t deserve shit, sano. all y/n has ever done is love you with all her heart. you were her world, everything revolved around you. yet, you failed to notice that. what did you do instead? you fucking disappeared without a word. oh and even better, you found some chick too. you never cared about my baby sister, you didn’t! so stop acting like the victim here.” draken sneered, meeting mikey’s teary eyes as he grew quiet.

“i was trying to protect her, i was afraid that my presence in her life would do more harm than good. i was scared that one day something bad would’ve happened to her because it involved something to do with me. i couldn’t risk it, that why i even disbanded toman.” mikey explained, breaking out into a painful cry as his heart bled.

“did you even love her?” draken questioned, watching the man in front of him choke on tears.

“god, i loved her to the moon and back! she was all that i could think of every second that i breathed. if i knew sooner, then i would’ve never left. i would’ve never been a coward, i’d stay by her side to protect her. i could’ve had more time!” mikey yelled in agony, making draken grab a hold of him.

“it would’ve never been enough! y/n didn’t tell you because she knew that it would’ve destroyed you.” draken hugged him, patting his back as remi joined them both as well.

after a few minutes, draken decided to take remi outside for a small walk, feeling like they needed some fresh air. this gave mikey some time to go see you. he hesitated for a bit, not being able to face you even though you were long gone. but, he eventually mustered up the courage and opened your door.

there, you laid on the bed like a pretty flower, your skin pale as snow due to the life in you being drained out.

“i know you told me that you didn’t wanna see me again, but i missed you. i don’t wanna let you go, y/n. i can’t live without my other half, i love you so much.” he cried, stroking your cold face as his tears fell on your cheek.

if only he knew, he would’ve cherished you longer.

---

mikey walked inside his house, eyes swollen from crying in the car, nearly getting into an accident twice from his blurred vision.

he saw his wife with a teary face, her friend my her side rubbing her back. the both of them noticed his appearence, and instead of a look of relief, the both of them looked angry.

mikey stood in his place, watching his wife rise from her spot and walking towards him before landing a harsh slap on his face.

“you fucking cheater! you don’t love me, i was your escape route. you love y/n, don’t you?” she asked, voice becoming shaky as she looked at mikey through glossy eyes.

mikey remained quiet, and there she got her answer.

“i knew it, i knew it! yet i still had some trust and hope within you that my guts were wrong. that maybe those little gestures you both gave each other was nothing but platonic. i was wrong, you and that two-faced bitch lied to me!” she screamed in agony.

“watch you mouth! you don’t get to call her that, you heard me? everything that she has ever done for anyone was nothing but a selfless act. you don’t know her.” mikey said through gritted teeth, making his wife scoff.

“yeah? well, you can now go back to her and continue to kiss her mighty ass ‘cause i want a divorce.” she sternly said, crossing her arms over her chest before walking to the door with her friend.

“i’ll get you the papers by next week.” mikey bluntly said, not even trying to fight or defend himself. he was tired and he didn’t want to live in an unhappy marriage for the rest of his life knowing that his heart belonged to you and only you.

“why? i wish to cut my ties with you as soon as possible.” she said with disgust laced in her tone.

“because i have to attend y/n’s funeral.” mikey deadpanned, making his wife’s mouth gape open.

“huh, guess karma is real. that’s what you get, sano.” his wife’s best friend taunted, making his now ex-wife giggle.

“i’ll come tomorrow to get my stuff. i can’t stand to stay here for another minute. also, i hope that two-faced bitch burns in hell.” she cockily said before heading out the door, slamming it shut.

---

it’s been about a month since you’ve died and mikey hasn’t visited your grave yet. he was there for your funeral, seeing how draken never requested the morgue people to not take off the promise ring you both have on your pinky finger. but, he didn’t stay for the burial.

mikey sat on the bench by the river, sighing as he fished out the pack of cigarettes he bought earlier. he opened the lid, plucking one of them out before placing it on his lips. as he brought his lighter closer to the end of the cigarette, your voice echoed in his mind.

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?”

he took it out, placing it back in the package. mikey stood up, walking towards the garbage can before throwing out the pack of cigarettes.

mikey decided that it was time to see you.

he reached your grave as you were buried in the nearest cemetary, easy for your sibling to visit you on the weekends. mikey sat in front of your tombstone, placing the cup of chocolate pudding on the ground.

“felt like you wanted some.” he smiled, opening up his own as he took a scoop of the sweet treat in his mouth.

“how did i do it, y/n? how did i live all those years without you? now that you’re gone, i feel suffocated. it feels like i’m falling in this bottomless pit with no one to save me.” mikey’s voice broke, tears stinging his vision as he bit his lips to conceal a choked out cry that itched to leave his throat.

“you just have to find happiness again, mikey.” a soft voice spoke from behind him, the familiarity of the tone set chills all over his body. he turned around, eyes widening in shock as he couldn’t believe it.

“y/n?” he called out, but it was barely a whisper. mikey knew that you were dead, and that perhaps he was going insane, but he didn’t care.

you smiled at him, taking a seat in front of him as you grabbed the chocolate pudding he brought for you.

“are you real?” mikey finally mustered up the courage to ask, making you chuckle as you grabbed his hand. your flesh was cold, making him intertwine his fingers with yours in an attempt to give you some of his warmth.

“it’s time to let me go, mikey. you have to live, travel, start a family and just be happy; without me.” your eyes held so much sadness and depth, it no longer twinkled with hope like before, making his heart ache.

“i can’t. i need you by my side, y/n. please, come back.” he begged, shaky hands coming up to cup your face. tears began to stream down his face as he softly cried, making you sigh as you pulled him in a hug.

“do you remember our first meeting?” you asked, gently stroking his hair as he nodded.

“i told you, there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. that’s what i want, mikey.” you spoke, making him look at you with glossy eyes.

“if only i knew sooner, i would’ve done things so much more differently.” mikey sniffled, making you shake your head in disagreement.

“that’s why i didn’t tell you. my condition would’ve consumed you and i didn’t want that. i didn’t die in vain, i died knowing that i had a loving family and person who loved me for who i am. i’m happy, mikey and it’s time that you find that happiness too.” you assured, kissing his forehead as small drops of rain began to fall.

“i envisioned a happy life with you, with one or maybe two little kids running around our house. ken-chin and remi visiting us on christmas, road trips and so much more. i’ll wanted to marry you, y/n! you’re the only girl that i have ever loved, the one my heart belongs to.” mikey broke down, trembling as the rain drenched him. you couldn’t help but let a few of your own tears fall, watching the man that you love crumble to pieces.

“then marry me, sano.” you looked at him with adoring eyes, making him shoot you a confused look. you took off the promise ring on your pinkie before handing it to him. he took off his as he placed it in your palms, eyes never leaving yours.

he slid on the ring on your ring finger as you did the same to him. mikey gave you a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

“god, i love you so much.” mikey mumbled under his breath, leaning in for a kiss. you accepted it, and for some reason, your lips felt warm and soft.

“i love you too, which is why i need you to live for me. i’ll always be here with you mikey, somewhere safe and sound.” you placed a hand over his heart, making him cry harder as he nodded.

“okay. i’ll try, for you.” he offered you a broken smile, kissing your hands as you hummed.

“goodbye, mikey.” you said, and it made his heart drop.

“wait! don’t leave just yet! ple-”

but it was too late because now it was just him who sat alone by your grave. mikey saw that the pudding he got for you was gone, making him believe that the vision or ghost of you was in fact real.

you came back to him, even if it was for a moment.

mikey knew that he had to give his life a chance, a chance that you never got. which is why he promised to live to the fullest for you.

---

big flashing lights nearly blinded the famous race car driver as he cleared his throat, waiting for the interviewer to bombard him with questions.

“mr. sano! what a pleasure to have you here, thank you for joining us today.” the woman politely said, making mikey give her a small smile.

“the pleasure’s all mine, thank you for having me.” mikey smoothly replied, making the crowd swoon. for a man that was pushing his mid-thirties, mikey looked amazing, without a doubt. his voice was crisp and honey-like, making it hard for people to resist him.

not to mention the generous heart he has.

the interview was pretty long, consisting of questions that made mikey talk about his childhood, goals and inspirations. until the burning question hit him like a truck.

“mr. sano, you’ve got quite a fanbase.” the interviewer started off, being cut off by the loud squeals of mikey’s fangirls, making him chuckle.

“we all want to know, are you single?” the question pondered in his head, but mikey knew the answer and didn’t hesitate.

“i’m not, actually.” he revealed, making people gasp and scream from shock.

“who’s the lucky girl if i may ask?” the interviewer continued to ask for further information. mikey smiled, thinking about the only woman that will ever own his heart.

“my best friend, y/n. she’s my wife who unfortunately passed away a few years ago due to an inoperable brain tumor. she’s the love of my life and i miss her every day. i funded the research foundation for inoperable brain tumors in memory of her. she’s the biggest inspiration in my life and i hope she’s happy when she watches over me.” mikey spoke into the mic, making the crowd briefly go silent before a loud wave of claps echoed through the room.

“you’re a great man, mr. sano, i’m sure your wife is very proud of you. she sounds like an amazing woman.” the interviewer offered a consoling smile.

“she was. y/n was brilliant, she was smart and talented in almost every aspect. she’s my other half, which is why it made it hard for me to learn how to live without her after she passed away. but, she always told me how there was too much love in this world and i shouldn’t be consumed by grief. so, i picked myself back up and started something to give other people hope for a better tomorrow.” mikey explained, seeing how the audience was in tears from his heart-touching words.

for a breif moment, mikey saw you amongst the crowd. his eyes widened, seeing you in a beautiful cherry sundress, similar to the one you wear every summer in high school. you were clapping and you blew him a kiss, to which he caught as his eyes teared.

mikey knew that he would never stop falling in love with you and that he would let you break his heart over and over again.

because his heart belong to you and only you.

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rizsu · 2 years ago

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let me in ( please ) manjiro, ran.

sum. when they fuck up & now are locked out of the house

mikey and emotions do not mix well. they're like oil and water. mikey is a victim to various emotions he has no knowledge on how to handle. you can think of him as a baby who has no idea how to express different emotions so they start crying. and just like that, he said his piece of rather colorful words and left before it got worse.

it takes nothing but a simple stroll around the area and some icecream bars to cool mikey's head. during his little freedom, he did some intense self-reflection and replayed the argument to analyze. three minutes of sitting on the park's bench and he came to the conclusion that he was in fact wrong. he one hundred percent overreacted.

all for his own defense, he thinks that it can be justified. crossing his arms over his chest, mikey nods in agreement to the imaginary audience. they too agree that it can be justified! even if it was but a stupid moment of him letting his negativity roam in his mind and became insecure.

mikey walks towards the door, crunching every leaf in the way to calm his nerves. he's spent at least twenty minutes practicing his apology speech. he cannot afford to butcher it. gripping on the door's knob, he tries to unlock it but to no avail, it did not work. this cannot be real, he amuses himself. mikey gives it another try. maybe it was just a jam in the knob? no. he gave it two more restless twists but god's grace was not on his side today.

“where is my phone?!” he's confused. he swore he shoved his phone into his pocket but it's not there!? patting his torso and sweatpants to feel for phone's frame, panic's tide rises in his body. he's half a second away from running into the middle of the road.

and on your side, you're watching this go down through the door's peephole. right now you may or may not be holding the very phone he's looking for in your hand. trust, you would grant him access to your shared home but this is too hilarious to give up.

the click of the door's lock on your side succeeds in getting mikey's attention. he watches like a hawk marking its prey's home, waiting to see if what he wants is behind the other side. biting at his lower lip's skin, mikey patiently awaits for you to come into display.

you swing the door open and lean on its frame. swaying his phone in front of him, you tease, “looking for this?”

mikey, relieved, tries to grab what's rightfully his but fails. there's no way you're going to give him this so soon.

“not so fast, manjiro. aren't you forgetting something?”

mikey takes three cartoonish blinks. he genuinely does not know what he forgot. tilting his head to the side, he looks around trying to remember what he could've possibly forgotten. oh right, the apology!

“'m really sorry. forgive me i know i acted like an idiot.” he speaks. mikey hopes you can tell he's being sincere. he's not one for apologies at all—which is easily known by his body language. he's rocking back and forth on his feet while playing with his fingers—almost replica to a child getting scolded for eating all the chocolates.

you try your hardest to not cackle. being able to witness the ‘invincible’ mikey awkwardly apologize feels like a gift from your ancestors. it may as well replace the definition of neuron activity.

“you're lucky i love you. come in.” tilting your head, you gesture for him to enter paradise. you didn't miss the way he clasped his fist whispering a “yes!” to himself. you really do love this loser.

pop-up quiz: if you lock ran out the house, would he:

a) go buy gifts to appease you.

b) demand that you open the door.

c) fight the tears and travel to rindou's to clear his mind.

d) none of the above.

correct answer? d) none of the above. see, if you dare to think you can get rid of ran you are just loud and wrong. you can't rip ran off of your skin even if you got the creator of earth to do it. he's like a flee.

he's a little on the lazy side which results in him barely caring for anything which also results in his nonchalant attitude in arguments. what happens when he just says to calm down? getting locked out until further notice. do not let this fool you, ran will, by any means necessary, make sure that you're not mad at him—even if he must guilt you in the process. ran can live alone but he's grown too attached to let you slip through his fingers.

like the fool he is, ran came up with the master idea of staying in the courtyard as he sets up his scheme. he has a plan, he just needs a platform. feeling mischievous, ran waited until four in the evening to begin his performance. dailing your number, he waits for you to pick up. the moment you do, he reads the script written on his palm.

“hey...still mad at me?” “yes. goodbye.” “WAIT—i'm sorry, unlock the door please?”

a moment of silence alongside a heavy sigh from you tells ran that chapter one: act one was successful. reeling out the hose, he quickly attaches it to the pipe before turning it on. taking large steps to the front door, he hides the hose behind the door as you open it.

“missed you. i'm shivering, would let me in?” coating his words with honey, he plasters a pleading look on his face. surely this would work..right..? yeah, no. you feel your anger bubbling again. for what and why would he bother you with this nonsense.

“what the fuck are you talking about? the sun is very much there.” you point towards the sun, completely finished with this idiocy.

“no, baby...it's not...” raising the hand that's holding the hose, ran turns the sprinkler effect on as he frowns. him suffering out in the real (fake) rain must hurt you. you know how he easily gets sick.

well, that's what he thinks. you think this is absolutely stupid. the scenario of ran, standing under the hose as it soaks him while the sun has yet to set truly makes for a good spongebob episode.

“ran, put it off. now.” demanding that he finishes his act, you publically judge him. although this is so stupid that it's hilarious, you don't want him to flood out the entire front yard. he's done enough to be let in the house.

“but do you forgive me, my love?” “RAN.”

ran chuckles to himself. chapter two: act two has been successful. dragging the hose back to its original position, he cleans up before entering your home but ran still feels mischievous. so what does he do? purposefully give you a tight back hug so that you can be soaked too but masks it with the excuse of “i really missed you.”

when ran isn't practically decomposing in bed, he's the most childish man ever.

#. ae-generated: tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #mikey fluff #ran haitani x reader #ran x reader #ran fluff #mikey x you #ran x you #tokrev x you #tokyo revengers fluff #tokrev drabbles

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shantechni · 1 year ago

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"2012 Mikey is Abused" and other constant complaints that, quite frankly, don't make sense

Since one Reddit user (who shall remain anonymous) inadvertently made me type out an essay I intended to write and post in a more coherent manner at a later date, I will be using their comment and my response.

Anyways, the comment itself starts off fairly normal and agreeable:

But then I see the next three points and my sleep-deprived mind just goes off the rails, so let's start with the second point:

Let me preface this by saying I absolutely do not condone the writing here because everyone under the sun will agree that we could've easily had the "Karai is our sister!?" plot twist without Leo and Karai briefly developing feelings for each other.

The problem is that this brief development of feelings is wildly blown out of proportion by the fandom, so much so that it makes it seem as though Leo and Karai actually had anything legitimate going on between them.

The "incest-eqsue garbage" between Leo and Karai is almost nonexistent outside of the writing room. They openly crush on each other for a whopping six episodes by way of verbally teasing each other and being at odds before Karai tells Leo that she's the Shredder's daughter. That's it. He is not pursuing her after that (hardly ever did, not even to the extent that Donnie pursues April) and Karai isn't remotely fond of him anymore after he broke their deal. Then, after we find out alongside Splinter that she's actually his daughter, he tells Leo towards the end of Follow the Leader. We don't get a reaction, actually nothing on Leo's side since the Foot Clan is mostly absent with April being the main point of conflict, even in Target: April O'Neil because April's forgiveness of the turtles is the main focus.

Leo eventually attempts to tell Karai the truth in Wormquake! and The Manhattan Project and she obviously doesn't believe the poor guy, she just wants to kill the turtles and Splinter at this point. Leo doesn't tell her because "he still likes her", but because, in his own words, it would change everything. She deserves to know the truth and Splinter shouldn't have his own daughter cursing him at every waking moment. When she tricks the gang into bringing her to the lair under the guise of her finally accepting the truth, Leo is ecstatic and his first thought is for her and Splinter to make amends. He's upset that Raph still can't fully trust her in the end when she fought alongside them (who can blame Raph though, he's cradling an unconscious brother after a plan gone awry), and that's the end of that.

They dedicate two episodes to the guys attempting to rescue her because Leo has enough brain cells to worry about what the Shredder could be doing with her, and Raph makes a jab at Leo on one instance when they find her (there is absolutely no romantic undertone, Raph just picks at his old crush on her and their tendency to tease each other at the worst times). Then, when she wants to get back at the Shredder for ripping her away from a life she never knew was her's, Leo attempts to aid her because he knows it isn't wise to face someone like that alone, especially with his henchmen there.

There's one last self-aware jab at their past feelings in S5, of which Karai awkwardly remembers and forgoes mentioning, and that's the last you see or hear of that.

As much as I dislike it, I'd take this narrative over the Donnie-April-Casey hurricane any day.

It seems that 2012 Mikey's mere existence is a sore spot for fans because Jesus Christ this gets brought up way too much.

Mikey is not written as a complete idiot, he's written as someone who doesn't see a reason to take everything so seriously, has odd habits, and doesn't always think things through, yet is shown to be highly capable and intelligent when the situation calls for it. Yes the writers left much to be desired at times, but to say they wrote him to be a "complete idiot" and left it at that is just offensive. I'll ignore all the miraculous things Mikey can do with Kraang stuff and Dimension X and focus on what other things he's shown to be capable of.

Mikey was a temporary learning model for Donnie in how to fight without thinking, or in better terms, how to fight instinctually without becoming bogged down by your own mind. Splinter's lesson is shown in a comedic manner, but that's ultimately what helped Donnie defeat Falco.

Another interesting thing is his ability to keep his composure when no one else around him can do so. I mentioned this briefly in another post, but it really stands out to me how he put Leo at the top of his priority list in Invasion Part 2. He's as worried for Splinter as Raph and Donnie are, but they have with them a crippled and unconcious Leo who needs medical attention asap, compared to martial arts master Splinter who's older and wiser than the three of them combined at times. Even when they eventually find Splinter and lose him, he keeps the gang in line by reminding them, as well as himself, that Splinter can take care of himself.

Along with that is when Splinter was kidnapped in The Manhattan Project. Mikey was quick to intervene when Raph was angry with Leo for allowing Tiger Claw to coax him into calling Splinter, and he reminded the two of the problem at hand: they have Splinter, let's go find him and take him back. There are so many other moments when he becomes the levelheaded one in response to the chaos or disorder surrounding him.

Mikey is a highly skilled fighter, he's emotionally intelligent, he remembers the weirdest things that eventually aid the team, he's street smart, he's a fast learner (ex: Bradford's secret kata, as well as the temporary use of the plasma katana in Target: April O'Neil), he's great at distracting enemies without needing to become bait, he gets insecure about things, he has photographic memory, he's the most outgoing of his brothers and therefore ends up with the most friends, he's quick to adapt to a situation and think of a plan, he can throw together seemingly random ingredients to create exactly what Donnie would struggle to create, he knew exactly what to do to find Casey after his run-in with Tiger Claw, the list goes on.

Heck, just to add to this, Mikey is the one who saves the day in three separate stories in S5. 1) His temporary electric powers save the world from Dregg and the Newtralizer, 2) he convinced Frankenstein's monster to join their side, retrieved the scepter from Savanti and Dracula (he accidentally broke the scepter while he was at it, but that helped) and cured Raph and Donnie of their vampirism, and 3) he was the one who repaired Kavaxas' seal and made him reopen the portal to the Netherworld so the dead could return.

The brothers don't always take him as seriously as they should or listen to him, and that's understandable at times, but when they do, they're reminded of the fact that Mikey, in his own way, is intelligent.

If I had a dime for every comment I've seen about this, I'd be rich enough to buy the TMNT series from Viacom and right every wrong they made with the 2012 series.

These abuse allegations are as bad as people putting Markiplier in the same tweet as problematic Youtubers and saying something wild like, "these content creators should've been cancelled a long time ago." I feel like people who say the brothers abuse Mikey are either an only child or genuinely have a warped sense for what actually counts as abuse, and I'm not even trying to be mean, those are just my thoughts. I shouldn't even have to comment on this, but the fact that people are still seriously believing that to this day is shocking.

Would you also like to say that Raph was abused in Turtle Temper when Splinter had the boys ceaselessly taunt him in that little exercise? Or that the boys abused Raph everytime they downplayed his anger? Or that Raph abused Donnie by threatening to hit him if he didn't find Snakeweed's hideout? Or that Leo abused Donnie everytime he stressed him out by rushing him for answers? Or that Donnie abused Mikey because Mikey flinched 2cm to the right when Donnie raised his hand to playfully knock at his noggin? Or that Leo was abused by the team because they took forever to view him as their leader? Or that Splinter abused the boys because he was "too rough" on them during training?? Or that April abused Donnie because she "constantly led him on"? Or that Xever and Bradford abused Baxter???

I'm losing my mind over here

Mikey is never physically or emotionally abused by his brothers, the show speaks for itself. But if you somehow aren't listening, go look up a textbook example of abuse, or better yet, look at Karai.

Abuse is the Shredder locking Karai in a dungeon when she tries to escape to her real family and going so far to become a peak manipulator by saying Karai was hurting him by making him lock her away. Worse than that, he starts brainwashing her with mind controlling worms so she has no choice but to obey him. Even before then, he's lowkey uncaring of her wellbeing: he treats her like any other soldier of his and doesn't listen to her when she tries to tell him something. He doesn't address her concerns about the Foot bots nearly finishing her off, instead telling her, "disobedience comes with a stiff penalty, especially for my daughter," when she objects to him telling her not to take action against the turtles while he's gone.

He only ever pays her any attention or gives her praise when it benefits him and his vendetta against Splinter.

Splinter and the turtles are the farthest thing from the image of a family filled with abusers. Raph openly apologizes to Mikey when Splinter tells him to stop picking at him in Shellacne, Raph comforts Donnie when the brainiac is somber after forcing Timothy into the equivalent of a cold sleep, Raph apologizes when his anger gets the better of him and he hits Leo harder than intended, Donnie apologizes when he realizes he shouldn't insult Raph when the guy is visibly upset, Leo regrets doubting Donnie about Metalhead, etc., etc.

Even beyond apologies, Raph is the quickest to entertain Mikey and vice versa during a mundane moment, Donnie never kicks Mikey out of the lab, Leo plays around with Mikey when the situation doesn't call for him to be their fearless leader, and Splinter is quick to advise Mikey during Karai's Vendetta and Shellacne. There are even times when the guys just go along with Mikey's antics because there's no harm in doing so, and often times Mikey needs a moment to be silly.

If you think play fighting, teasing, or getting a little physical with a sibling is the equivalent of abuse, particularly in the context of TMNT of all things, you need to do some re-evaluation.

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carlsm1ssingeye · 18 days ago

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are you alright ?

c.g

warnings: none, fluff

carl grimes x f!reader

info: carl and reader are both 15/16 (s6) this is set in the alexandria era of the walking dead. carl never lost his eye !

you’ve known carl for a while. since you got to alexandria a few months ago. you still remember enid introducing you to everyone. you were nervous, not knowing how people would react to a new girl joining their group. you met everyone, it took you a while to learn their names, but you got the hang of it. carl, enid, ron, mikey. even though you’ve been here a while, they don’t know anything about you. well, not really. they don’t know that you were alone for more than a whole year after your family were ripped apart in front of you, they don’t know-

enough about that. you and carl have never really been fond of eachother. always bickering about something. you didn’t hate carl, hate is a strong word, you just don’t get along. that was, until, the alexandrian walls got smushed by a falling watch tower. walkers flooded in like water in a bath. people started dying. you heard screaming and went outside to be met with a bunch of walkers. you backed into an alley between yours and carl’s house, trembling at the sounds of the walkers gnawing on peoples flesh, the dead eating the living. you hit your head on something, wincing at, the pain. you could hear the screaming of terror or pain from their victims. your thoughts were put on a halt at the feeling of someone grabbing you…

a walker. you shoved it away, reaching for your knife in your waistband. it’s stuck. you began thinking of other ways to pierce through its brain, but then a knife stabbed through the back of its skull, blood spilling all over your body. the walker dropped, revealing carl standing there, a knife in his hand.

“are you alright? it didn’t bite you, did it?”

you stayed frozen, not knowing what to do with yourself as he quickly checked you for bites.

“no.” you managed to croak, and he looked up at your face.

“and you’re sure of it?”

you didn’t reply to that. he pulled you both through a door and into his house, before blocking up every door and window. his family always keep wood in the basement, especially for things like these. almost like they expected it.

he sat you on a chair and looked over you again, seeing the blood seeping from your head.

“walker did this?”

“no. i hit my head.” you mumbled, looking down as he lifted your chin, inspecting it.

“we better cover it. it could get infected.”

you didn’t protest, just sitting there as he got out a first aid kit and put rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab. your face scrunched at the pain as he dabbed your wound. he noticed, he didn’t stop though. knowing that it was for your own good.

he bandaged the cut as you still sat there, the silence uncomfortable.

“done.” he finally spoke up, you flinching at the sound.

“thanks…” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. everything had happened so fast. “where’s your family?” he looked at you. “i think their at glenn and maggie’s, their alright.” he smiled.

you felt your face heat up when you saw that grin. he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. this was probably the first time you’d every gotten along. and to be honest, it felt nice. for a while, you just sat there, gazing into eachothers eyes.

then he cleared his throat, stepping back. “what do you suppose is going to happen? out there, i mean.”

you looked at him and shrugged, your face still pinky from before.

“i’m not sure.”

about a month later, everything was back to normal. ish. there were not walkers, but about half of your people were gone. including the leader. so now, rick grimes has taken over for her. you and carl fought less, and lately, you’ve even began to catch feelings for him. you haven’t said anything, just in case he doesn’t feel the same. but everyday that feeling gets stronger. and soon, you’re bound to pop.

you’re at ron’s house with carl, mikey and enid. enid clearly has a thing for carl, which makes you feel left out. especially when he flirts back. it makes your blood boil. mikey and ron are playing a video game while carl is reading a comic and enid is next to him. you’re just standing there, really. half the time you don’t even know why you’re there. and then you see enid touching carls sleeve. that was the last straw.

you cleared your throat, “i’m gonna go get a drink.” you left the room quickly, going to the kitchen. you sat at the island for a while, before carl came in.

“something wrong?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. “you kinda stormed outa there.”

you just looked at him, not replying.

“y/n, really? i’m trying to help here.”

“does what happened a month or so ago not matter to you? what was that?” you blurted.

he sat next to you. “i could say the same thing.” he looked at you.

you didn’t know what to say to that, and just sat there.

“i didn’t think you were comfortable with it.” he claimed, his eyebrows knitting slightly.

“what’s that with enid then?” he looked at you, slightly surprised.

“there’s nothing with enid. nothing. I promise. i’ve told her to stop, but she won’t listen.” he got closer, “it’s you that i like, y/n.”

you looked at him, “and you’re sure?”

he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “yes, i’m extremely sure.” you smiled, he held your chin. “you’re beautiful, you know?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone.” you quickly quipped, he smirked. “even better.” your lips joint.

that was your first of many kisses with him.

this was my first ever time writing, thank you for reading! (i accidentally deleted it like twice and had to re-write it, damn)

i know it’s quite short and not the best but i tried and i hope to get better!

please leave suggestions or tips and tricks if you have any, i hope you enjoyed!

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #the walking dead #fem reader #x reader #female reader

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sarathrwizard · 21 days ago

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7 Day Camp Stay. Breaking camp.

Yay! This is it! Got the art done and everything!

Kind of sad it had to end so soon...

Thank you all for commenting, leaving hearts and just reading it in general!

Hope you enjoy the last day! (Under the cut)

7 Day Camp Stay

Breaking camp:

Donnie woke up bright and early. 5:00 in the morning! ... just kidding he slept till 9:45. But this was it! It was packing day. He got out of bed and gathered his stuff together. Donnie checked his phone and the weather said it'd get pretty windy around 2:00 this afternoon. Best that they got the tents down before then.

Donnie went outside to find breakfast. I mean, his breakfasts have consisted of many things. But three times it had something to do with bread and cheese. Surely he would have something different, right?

So there he was, eating cheese... and bread... boy there wasn't many choices, was there? He didn't care, he'd be home soon enough where he could eat whatever his heart desired. We all know what that is.

The others were starting to crawl out of their cocoons. There wasn't anything planned for the day. If anything, they planned to get home before supper.

About an hour later, unpacking was in full swing. Chairs were being folded up and sleeping bags were being rolled. Mikey spent his time making lunch so that everyone could have the energy. Donnie walked over to the restrooms one last time.

*Flush* went the toilet as he opened the stall door. We walked over to the sink to wash up. Boy, whoever was in here last left a huge mess around the sink. How can you even spill that much water? Donnie was practically stepping in an inch deep puddle in front of the sink. He pocketed the soap and looked underneath the sink to see one of the pipes leaking.

"That would do it."

Donnie confirming to himself. He would fix it if he had his tools. Donnie stood back up to see a giant garden spider right on the lip of the sink, slowly crawling closer to his hand. In a panic, he ripped his hand away with full force, throwing his body weight from one direction to the other way too quickly. His foot slipped from under him and he landed smack dab on the tiled floor. Right onto his bruised hip.

Donnie quickly got up and slid himself away from the sink. Leaning himself on the wall, he checked his hip. Whatever had healed from the last time he bruised it, just got reset. But this time it felt like it hurt worse. Maybe because tile doesn't give like dirt does. Tears were escaping his eyes once more.

"EVERY! SINGLE! DAY!"

Donnie yelled. The walls yelled back at him. Sobs escaped his throat as tears flowed down his face.

"...Why can't I go through one day without getting hurt?"

Donnies voice cracked. Tears dripping off his chin, adding to the already large puddle on the restroom floor. Just then, the door opened. An orange colored coat sleeve poked through.

"Hey, Donnie! I just came to tell you-"

Mikey cut himself off when he saw the distress on Donnie's face, the way he was slouched against the wall, and how he wrapped his hands around his hip. Mikey quickly came over and crouched down.

"Hey, what's wrong, Donnie? Does your hip hurt again?"

Donnie being babied by his baby brother? This was priceless. Donnie needed to keep it together! Cause if he continued to cry, Mikey would start crying too! He tried, he really tried! But he didn't have the energy to tough it out. More tears started dripping from his eyes. He could feel his little brother getting worried. Mikeys fingers tightened, gripping harder to Donnie's coat sleeve.

"I'll be fine."

Donnie said through a sigh.

"Just, please help me get up, okay?"

Donnie asked as politely as he could. Mikey grabbed onto his arm and helped pull him up. He put some weight onto his leg and, yup! It hurt like the dickens! Whoever they are...

Donnie and Mikey slowly made it back to camp, limping along the way. They turned the corner to see the others finishing their lunch. Donnie looked over at Mikey.

"Don't tell the others about my hip."

Donnie whispered. Mikey creased his brow. But Donnie's eyes had a sense of pleading in them.

"Please."

Mikey gently nodded. Donnie got onto his own two feet and tried not to limp as much as he could. Mikey and Donnie made it to the picnic table and sat down to eat. It looked like it was turkey sandwiches one last time. There was so much running around in Donnie's head, he could barely eat. Every bite felt like it was going to choke him.

Mikey must have seen him struggle. He reached out and gently grabbed Donnie's hand. Donnie gripped back harder every time he swallowed. Mikey had finished his sandwich already. He grabbed a cup and filled it with drinking water, then handed it over for Donnie. If Donnie couldn't swallow the food, then he'd wash it down instead.

Lunch felt like it took twice as long to finish. But he got it done, with some emotional support on the side. Leo and Raph were getting more of the stuff packed away. Donnie lifted himself from the table.

"Let me do the dishes."

Donnie said as he got back onto his feet.

"Are you sure?"

Mikey asked, tilting his head slightly. Donnie nodded and got the stuff ready. He started scrubbing, feeling his hip scream in protest. He tried his best to ignore it. He had to ignore it! He wanted to be useful! To help with packing up anyway he could.

The winds started to pick up. Was it 2-o-clock already? Donnie picked his phone up to check the time. It was only 12:40. The winds came early! Donnie looked up to see the others having a heyday with folding up the tents. As Leo and Raph were trying to fold up the tent, Mikey was just having fun wearing the tent fly as a cape.

The pain in Donnie's hip was only getting worse and worse. He could barely stand anymore. Raph was walking by with the tent all folded up and packed tightly into it's zipper bag. Raph must have gotten the big brother tingles again cause he stopped and looked over at Donnie.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

Raph asked as he placed the tent bag down on the picnic bench.

"Yup! Just peachy! Totally not in excruciating pain right now!"

Donnie said through gritted teeth. Raph looked down to see the bruise on Donnie's hip had spread down his leg and looked much darker than it did yesterday. Raph grabbed Donnie under the arms and lifted him up. Donnie wiggled his legs and flapped his hands.

"Hey- no! I'm almost done with the dishes anyway! Just let me finish them!"

Donnie argued, though it wasn't very convincing. Mikey quickly took over doing the dishes. Leo grabbed the tent bag and brought it to the Taxi rockets trunk. Raph carried Donnie over to the car and sat him down in the back seats.

"When did your bruise get that bad?"

Raph asked, his brow creasing. Donnie looked at Raph. Dang, he just wanted to cry again. He hated it when Raph acted like their Dad. But telling Raph what happened was probably a better idea then keeping it bottled up.

"Earlier this morning. Slipped in the bathroom."

"Why didn't ya say anything? I could have handled the dishes!"

"I wanted to be useful! I wanted to help with packing! Not sit on the sidelines because my hip hurt again..."

Donnie hugged his stomach. These emotions were just churning inside of him today! Practically building a home in there! He rubbed his hands together. He felt a hand lay on his shoulder.

"I get it. But there's no harm in asking for help when you need it. That's what I'm here for!"

Donnie looked up at Raph and wiped away a few stray tears with his sleeves. Raph gave him a few pats on the shoulder.

"You can hang tight, we're about done with the packing anyway."

Raph got up to finish breaking camp. Donnie got into his seat properly and leaned his head back. He got some of the dishes done. At least he help with something.

...

The four of them were in the car and had just started on their journey back. Raph was driving, Mikey got the front seat cause he called dibs, so Leo was stuck in the back with Donnie. Donnie was reading on his phone while gently laying his hand onto his bruised hip.

Drip! Drip! Drip! Water sprinkled onto the windshield. Rain? But there was no rain predicted for today? The trickle got heavier and heavier. All conversations stopped. The cabin went silent as all eyes were glued onto the road. The rain was so heavy you could barely see 3 feet in front of you, and it was still daylight!

Donnies stomach clenched as he nervously clung onto the back of the front seat. Raph seamed like he was going to power through it! The Car suddenly swerved. Donnie's heart dropped into his stomach. Oh, the adrenaline was kicking in now!

"What did you do that for!?"

Leo asked as he leaned forward.

"There was a big tree branch on the road. I didn't want to hit it."

Raph said as he kept his attention on the road ahead. Donnie groaned nervously. Leo looked over to see Donnie gripping onto the front seat with his head leaning against it. Donnies cheeks were pinker than usual. that wasn't a good sign.

"Raph, pull over and turn on the hazards."

"Don't worry! Raph's got this!"

"Raph! Please...!"

Raph gripped the steering wheel. He did as told and slowed down to pull over, Flipping on the hazards. Leo unbuckled himself to get closer to Donnie. He wrapped his arms around Donnie and let him lean his head onto his shoulder. Donnie knew it was a mistake to read in a moving vehicle. It always make his stomach turn. But that sudden jolt only made it worse.

The wind knocked against the car, making it slightly sway. Donnie could hear Mikey start to whimper. But Raph was already on top of it. Raph adjusted the seat back to make room for Mikey. Mikey unbuckled and hopped into Raphs lap.

The rain consisted of a shower head on full blast and literal buckets being dumped. Donnie's heart felt like it could start a moter. Fear was creeping around him again. Donnie folded his hands together and closed his eyes. He began to pray. He prayed for so many things. He prayed they would get back home safe. That no one would get hurt. That the roads wouldn't be flooded. He prayed that the pain in his hip would go away. That his stomach would settle down. He just kept on praying.

After a few minutes, the rain began to slow down and the wind calmed slightly. Donnie opened his eyes when he heared the engine starting. He looked around to see the rain was much more gentle now. His stomach felt better too. Leo buckled himself into the middle seat to stay near Donnie. Mikey had crawled back onto his seat and got secured.

They got back onto the road and continued on their way. Donnie sighed and released his hands from his death grip. Boy, his palms were sweaty! Donnie couldn't wait to get home and have some pizza. Donnie's sure the others wouldn't deny him of it. He laid his head a little further on Leo's shoulder and got more comfortable for the journey home.

The end.

_____________

Oh my goodness, that camping trip was relaxing and exhausting all at the same time!

I hope you enjoyed reading, 7 Day Camp Stay!

Lord bless all of you! And thank you again for you comments and likes!

*little happy dance!*

Last

#rottmnt #riseofthetmnt #saverottmnt #rise donnie #rise leo #rise mikey #Rise raph #based on a true story

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 9 months ago

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A/N ::: So I don't think I'm broken anymore. 1 week of a actually doing something didn't ruin me. I come back on the weekends.

C/W ::: Draken x F.reader, Make-up sex?, unprotected sex, P->V

WC ::: Kinda long, 3,035. Happy with every word.

You were going over to Draken's place to collect the rest of your stuff today. It's ok though, because he's out doing some stupid Toman shit and won't be there. Seeing him right now would be your absolute downfall. It would permanently wreck you. You're so fucking horny all the time. Yeah, so, you have toys. But your toys will never measure up to his cock. They'll never measure up to his hands or his mouth on you. He could get you wet by just looking at you for too long.

"Ohp, snap out of it, y/n. Stop. Now." You had to remind yourself on the way over there that not only would you not be seeing him, but you wouldn't be fucking him, either. And all the thoughts that penetrated your brain consisted of him. Pounding into you at such an unforgiving pace you thought you were actually going to die - but it was ok. There was no better way to go than being fucked to death by him. Him of all people.

The 2nd in command of Toman. Mikey's №1… in many aspects. Sitting at the red light you started thinking about how Draken was your №1, how you were his №1.5. Mikey always came first when it came to business. You always came first when he was done with that shit.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice the light had turned green until the car behind you honked their horn. "Fuck!" You slammed on the gas and turned the wheel a little too hard, causing the car to jerk sideways and you almost lost control. "Perfect visual to my life right now. Goddamn it, Draken. Leave me alone." You were really starting to lose it.

After calming down and pulling over to catch your breath, you realized you were already at your destination. It wasn't like you needed to check the address or anything, you knew exactly where he lived. And so often, you were on auto-pilot. Whenever he called you, you floated out to the car and eased your way down into the driver's seat. Your pussy already sensitive. Reeling in the anticipation of what he was going to do to you. How he was going to make you feel.

"Fuck. Ok, y/n. Keep it together." You hopped out and made your way to the front door. No one was around, and the gate was unlocked. That's always a good sign. Draken must have forgotten to lock it before he left. He was expecting you to come by today, but you double - triple checked the date to make sure he wasn't going to be here. If he were, you know all to well that you'd end up fucking in his room before you left with the rest of your things.

As you unlocked the door with your spare key, you realized he probably left the gate open for you. "Thanks, Ken." you muttered to yourself as you walked into the living room. It was just as clean and organized as you remembered it. Nothing out of place. Everything had its spot. That's one of the things you loved about him.

You made your way to his bedroom, and as soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his scent. That fucking smell. It was so intoxicating. He smelled like a mixture of cologne and musk. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on, but it was so sexy. So damn irresistible. You wanted to rip off your clothes and roll around on his bed just to soak up his aroma. You had half a mind to find his cologne and spray it all over you and your stuff so you could have it permeate your senses one more time and last until the smell completely faded away. But you managed to resist the temptation to go down that path.

"Ok, focus." You had to snap out of it again. "This is the last time you'll be in here. Just grab your shit and go." You gathered your clothes and some other miscellaneous items you had scattered around the room. Some makeup, a few books you borrowed from him, and some other trinkets that you didn't even realize you had left behind.

As you were stuffing everything into your bag, you found one of your old bras. You actually weren't even sure if it was yours. "Damn, Draken." You laughed to yourself as you shoved it into your purse. You didn't know how it ended up in his drawer, but you assumed it was from one of his one night stands. They must have left it behind and he either didn't bother to throw it out or he didn't know what to do with it. You decided to take it and toss it when you got home. "It's not like he's gonna miss it anyway."

Once you were finished, you took one last look around the room. The memories flooded back into your mind. The nights you spent tangled in his sheets, him fucking you so good you almost passed out. The way he whispered in your ear how much he loved you. How he was addicted to your pussy. You remembered how you would sit on his face and grind against him until you came. How he would eat you out like you were the last meal on earth.

"Stop! Stopstopstop it!" You smacked yourself across the face, trying to snap yourself out of it again. You couldn't think about him anymore. It was too much. He was too much. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door, locking it behind you. As you walked out to your car, you saw the garage door was open and you noticed his bike sitting there. It was so shiny and well taken care of. You remember riding on the back of it with him, feeling the wind whip through your hair as he zoomed down the streets. You felt so free with him. So alive.

"Not the point, asshole." You said to yourself, making your way over to the open door. "Hello?" You asked. It wasn't like Draken to leave his door open like this. It wasn't like him to not have his bike. There was no answer so you walked in. "Anyone home?"

And there he was. Sitting on his stool, lowered all the way down so he could work on whatever the hell he was working on. You never knew what he was doing. But you knew that he looked amazing doing it. "Hiiii," you said, slowly dragging out the 'i'. He didn't turn around. Didn't even flinch when you said that.

"You're supposed to be gone, Ken." You said, annoyed. Still, he didn't move. "Did you hear me? I said you're supposed to be gone!" You started to get pissed off. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to be out with Toman, not here. You didn't want to see him. "Hey!" You smacked him on the shoulder.

He jumped up and put his fists in front of him. "FUCK! Don't fucking sneak up on me, y/n! Jesus!" It was then you saw he had earbuds in. A smile spread across your face. You weren't sure if it was the satisfaction of knowing he didn't hear a single thing you said to him or that you scared the shit out of him. He was always so aware of his surroundings. Always knew what was happening. But not today. Today he was at your mercy.

"You fucking scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing here?!" He was fuming. You couldn't help but laugh. You hadn't seen him this pissed off since you two broke up. It was a sight to see.

"I came to pick up the rest of my stuff, you jackass. You said you wouldn't be here." You crossed your arms over your chest. He looked so good when he was mad. It made your pussy clench.

"Yeah, well, Mikey had some shit going on and needed me here." He started to calm down after the threat of the unknown smacking him on the shoulder passed. "I didn't think you were gonna stop by today." He leaned back on his stool, eyeing you up and down.

You knew what he was doing. He was checking you out. Trying to get a rise out of you. Make you squirm. "I … don't … look at me like that, Draken." You didn't know what else to say. You were so frustrated with him. "Don't fucking start."

He stood up and walked towards you. "Start what? I didn't start shit, y/n. You're the one who came in here and started hittin’ me and shit. You smacked me on the shoulder." He whispered in your ear. You could feel his breath on you. How hot it was. How sweet it smelled - and you could never get over that. How typically gross things that other people look or smell like, you had grown to love about him. It was infuriating. You were doing so good until today. (Good meaning you had only thought about him while touching yourself. You hadn't actually broke down to see him.)

"Fuck, Draken." You pushed him away from you, but he grabbed your hands and held them in front of you. He was so much stronger than you. It was pointless to try and fight him off. It was pointless, but it wouldn't be a lost effort. Something would come out of it. And you hoped it would go in your favor. "Don't do this to me."

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you. "Do what? Hold you? Is that what I'm doing, y/n?" He squeezed you tight. Your back against his chest. His head resting on your shoulder. You could feel his breath on your neck. His cock starting to harden against your ass. "You want me to let you go?"

You shook your head. Yes or no, you don’t have a single clue but you still did it. You didn't want him to let you go. You wanted him to hold you forever. You wanted him to fuck you until you couldn't see straight. You wanted him to make you feel like he used to. But you knew it was wrong. You were broken up. He didn't belong to you. "We can't, Draken. We have to stop."

He turned you around and looked you in the eye. "Stop what? This?" He rubbed his nose against yours. Teasing you. All you could think about was how it would feel to have his lips pressed to yours. It was like a fire had ignited inside you. A burning desire to have him. To feel him. To touch him. "Is this what you want me to stop, y/n? This?"

Before you could say anything, he had his mouth on yours. You tried to resist, but it was useless. Your body melted into him like it always did. The kiss was so slow. So deliberate. So well-planned. You're sure he knew you were coming over today. You both made plans to not have to see each other, that was what was agreed upon. And yet here you both are.

Right where you need to be but not where you want to be? Is that what's happening? Is that the right order? Or is it right where you want to be but not where you need to be. But all you can think about is his taste. His tongue. Tracing your bottom lip from side to side, top to bottom. The warmth of it familiar and all-encompassing. You never wanted to give it up.

He started to pull away, but you grabbed his face and kissed him back. Your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, carrying you into the house. He set you down on the counter and started to pull off your shirt. "I missed this, y/n. I missed you."

He slid his hands down your body and undid your jeans, pulling them off of you. You couldn't believe you were doing this. That you were letting him do this. But you couldn't stop yourself. "I ... hoh ... fuck, Kennn-nuh."

He pulled you down and bent you over the counter. Your tits pressed against the cold marble. He slid his fingers into your panties and felt how wet you were. "So fucking wet, baby. You want my cock don't you? You want me to fuck you, y/n?"

You moaned as he rubbed your clit. "Yes. Fuck. I want you, Ken." He pulled your panties down and spread your ass apart. "Please fuck me, Ken." He spit on your pussy, getting it nice and wet. You heard him unzip his pants and felt the tip of his cock rub against your entrance.

"I'm gonna fuck you, y/n. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll forget why we ever broke up. You ready, baby?" He pressed his cock inside you, inch by inch. "Oh, fuck." You whimpered as he filled you up. "So fucking tight. You missed my cock, didn't you, y/n?"

He started to pump into you from behind. You couldn't believe how good he felt. How he stretched you out. The way he hit all the right spots. "I missed your cock, Ken. I missed it so much." He started to fuck you faster, his hips slapping against your ass. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum already."

He pulled you up and started to play with your tits, his cock still buried deep inside you. "Cum for me, y/n. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you, baby." He bit your earlobe and squeezed your tits.

"Oh, fuck!" You started to cum, your pussy clenching around his cock. "Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna cum."

He pulled out and your head dropped at the sudden lack of him. He turned you around and lifted you up, guiding your legs around his waist, He carried you down the hallway to his room but halfway there you slipped down on his cock. "Oh, shit. Fuck!" He started to cum, his cock twitching inside you. "No! Fuck! Not - not here, not yet!"

"Oh, god!" You started to cum again, your juices dripping down his cock and onto his balls. He pressed you against the wall and fucked you harder, his cum spilling out of you and onto the floor. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He grunted, his cock still pulsing inside you. "Oh, fuck, y/n. I'm still … cumming."

He slowly slid out of you and set you down on the floor. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath. "That was ..." you couldn't even form a sentence. You couldn't believe what just happened. You were supposed to be getting the rest of your stuff. And then Draken wasn't supposed to be here. And now you're cumming on his cock. You didn't know what to think or do. "Ken ... I think ..."

He picked you up and carried you to his bed. "Shh, just shh, y/n." He pushed your legs apart and kicked his pants off the rest of the way, laying down on top of you. "Don't talk. Just feel me, y/n." He kissed you again, this time it was slow and passionate. He slid his cock back into you, pumping in and out of you at an even pace. "I love you."

You looked up at him. "Ken." You put your hands on his hips and stopped him from moving. "You can't. You can't say that to me while you're buried balls deep in my cunt. It doesn't count. It doesn't count right now."

"The fuck are you sayin'. It should count more now than any other time. Why the fuck you think I'm saying it righ' now, hah?" He started to move again, his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust. "I love you, y/n. I always will. You can't change that."

You pulled him closer to you and kissed him again. You didn't want to argue anymore. You just wanted him. "I love you, Ken. I love you, too." He started to fuck you harder, his cock throbbing inside you. You eyes began to roll back into your head. "Fffuhcckk," you moaned as he fucked you deeper. "Oh, fuck. Oh … fuck."

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck. He started to bite and suck on it, leaving a trail of hickeys from your collarbone to your ear. "Cum with me, y/n. Cum with me."

You both started to cum together, his cock spurting inside you. He kept fucking you, his cum dripping out of your pussy and onto the bed. "Ken, stop. Stop, Jesus, mercy, uncle. White flag waving!" You laughed and pushed him away and he rolled over onto his back. He was so fucking hot. His chest covered in sweat, his cock still hard and twitching. "Fuck, you're something else."

He chuckled and grabbed your hand, pulling you on top of him. "Hmm … So are you." He pulled you down and kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. You felt so happy. You forgot how good it was with him. How perfect it was. How in sync you were with each other. "I love you."

You laid on top of him, listening to his heart beating. "I love you. I love you, too."

"So." He said quietly.

"Mm?" It was all you could muster at this point.

"Unpack your shit and bring the rest of it over. You live here. You live with me now." You could feel him smiling against the top of your head.

You looked up at him. "Ken. You can't be serious. I can't ...""Yes, you can. You will. Not letting you go again." He kissed the top of your head and picked up the key you sat down on his nightstand, slipping it back into your hand.

@arlerts-angel @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @viburnt @katshimizuu @darkstarlight82

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