#SHE LOVES DRAKEN

[ofluminance-a]

Emma, how do you feel about guys with capes?

" hmmm. i don't think they're really my type. unless it's like.. zoro or something. i am a sucker for accents! i much prefer tall, blonde, with a dragon tattoo. " a silly grin. " or long black flowing hair, with pointy little fangs! ... purple hair is cute too! "

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

In timelines where Senju dies during tanabata, she dies still bearing the guilt of what happened on July 30th, 1999; and with the belief that she absolutely failed at what she wanted to do (ie: stop Mikey & Sanzu, tell the truth about the Concorde, apologize, make sure no more hurt is done) and failing before she could actually start acting on it - years of preparation, of building Brahman and training and fighting, only to not even be able to face Mikey and Sanzu. Maybe she would've failed (and we know she would've) but she'd have had a chance to try. Senju-who-dies-during-tanabata (aka Senju in Bonten timeline) dies thinking: 1) she's the reason why everything went wrong with Mikey and why their two families fell apart, 2) she won't ever have the chance to face them and attempt at stopping their rise to power, 3) she won't ever be able to even merely apologize, were all of her plans to fail. The guilt has been eating her alive for years and she just wants her brother and childhood friend back; and maybe they wouldn't forgive her, but perhaps they'd stop the destruction they're causing, including to themselves.

She dies before even seeing them one more time. But on the other hand, there's something that makes this death worth it and that's the fact she did right by protecting Takemichi. She's regretting not being able to see Sanzu and Mikey, but she's not regretting saving a life - keeping a promise. I think she could've given it to anyone (that's just how she is) but, see, Takemichi is the first person she's befriended in years. Mikey, Baji, Emma? gone from her life since the Concorde broke, gone because of her own fault. She doesn't seem to have any other friend, and that's why she jumped on Takemichi at the first opportunity she got - because her only recurrent social interactions are with Brahman members, and they're Benkei&Wakasa's age. She has no one her age to bond with, but then here comes Takemichi. And she doesn't want to lose that, she doesn't want to mess it up again.

Her goal is to defeat Mikey and destroy Kanto Manji. That's how Brahman came to be. And yet, whereas Takemichi writes this down for his tanabaka wish, Senju writes 'protect Hanagaki'. She doesn't want Brahman to get big, she doesn't want anyone to be hurt, if there is damage she wants it to be kept as minimal as possible... She can't let Takemichi die. Not only is he the first friend she has in a while and, simply, a human being she rather not be hurt(even at the extent of herself being hurt instead) - he's also the one they(her&Brahman) think can get to Mikey, alongside Draken. It's been so many years, what emotional ties does Mikey have towards her now? Takemichi and Draken would be more effective than she could ever be (as much as she wished she could handle everything on her own)

[rinupi]

[artbysarf]

Sketched out my current DnD party to compare heights! Lathander's silliest soldiers

[angstigone]

each time I remember that emma sano is with a gentle giant who is also a taurus, I cry inside, because why can't that be my life?

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Who are your fav Tokyo Rev charas? Top 3 overall? If you had to pick 1 from every gang? (and reasoning?)

(not an interrogation, just interested and would love to hear your thoughts!)

Gotta say top two are Kazutora and Izana (obviously) but third would probably be Takemichi or Chifuyu

I love love love Izana's character design + the Tenjiku arc is my fav one

Kazutora imo felt like the most realistic villain in the series even though he wasn't a long term one. His backstory (and Izana's) hit me in my feels really bad and felt oddly relatable.

Michi and Chifuyu are both awesome, best duo fr like they just compliment each other so well. Even tho Michi sucked at fighting he's an absolute tank when it comes to damage and he's just so willing to risk his life for his friends 😭 and Chifuyu is literally the bestest friend someone could ever ask for, him having Michi's back is just the cutest thing ever

[amarantoestrella]

You guys what if… WHAT IF, hear me out… Farmer! Draken???? In his older and wiser age he is tired of hanging out with criminals, he decides to change his ways and live a simple life. A quiet life.

I just think he would look so attractive slanging bales of hay or herding sheep or helping mother cows give birth to calves.

Farmer! Draken in the chicken coop gathering eggs for you to cook up for breakfast before he scrambles yours.

Farmer! Draken who asks you to have as many kids as you can because he just wants a big family.

Farmer! Draken who lets you home school the kids while he teaches them how to do farm chores like milking cows and tilling the land.

These are all wholesome but also Farmer! Draken who buys you a big o plot of land miles away from anyone so that you never leave him.

Farmer! Draken who will drop his overalls and fucks you right on the front porch because “nobody’s gonna see anyway.”

Farmer! Draken who has a shed hidden away in an abandoned corner of your property that you’re never allowed to go near.

[karu-sano]

This is going to sound mean (it probably is) nd I know it's a product of fandom osmosis-ing it's way into our collective consciousness, but Emma is soooooo much less interesting than fan content makes her out to be

[missmadella]

"How They React When You Dress Up Beautifully (But Usually Dress Boyish) "// Tokyo Revengers

Charakters: Mikey, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, Sanzu, Ran, Rindou, Shinichiro, Wakasa, Hanma

Synopsis: you’ve always been the hoodie girl. the one in scuffed sneakers, hands in your pockets, hair tied up, blending in with the boys without even trying. you weren’t there to be looked at — you were there to hold your own. and you did. but tonight? tonight, you show up in a dress. and not just any dress — one that fits, hugs, flows, turns heads. hair down. lips glossed. eyes soft but untouchable. and suddenly, no one knows what to say.

he stares. he freezes. and then he remembers how to breathe.

CW: possessive behavior, mild jealousy, physical affection (waist grabbing/thigh touching), suggestive dialogue, strong language, gender assumptions, toxic remarks from side characters

Mikey (Sano Manjiro):

When you first joined Toman, you were all hoodies, joggers, combat boots — tough, quiet, and fast with your fists. Mikey assumed you were just another strong kid in a sea of delinquents. Until Draken casually said, “You know she’s a girl, right?” Mikey froze. “Wait— she?”

You weren’t bothered. You didn’t correct anyone. You let your fists do the talking.

And god, did Mikey fall fast.

The way you handled yourself in fights. The way you leaned back on his bike like you owned it. How you never tried to impress anyone �� just did your thing. Mikey loved that.

You were you, no matter what.

__________________________________________________________________________

The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees surrounding the old shrine, casting golden light over the cracked stone path. The Toman boys had gathered early, as usual — laughing, arguing, throwing weak punches, killing time before the captains' meeting started.

You were leaning against Mikey’s prized bike, one leg propped up on the step, hoodie sleeves pushed up to your elbows, hands in your pockets. Comfortable. Invisible, almost — exactly how you liked it.

Mikey was sprawled lazily on the shrine steps, back against the railing, munching on a dorayaki. His legs were stretched out, crossed at the ankles, eyes half-lidded in his usual not-quite-here, not-quite-gone state. You caught him glancing at you every so often, though.

"Yo, [Y/N]," Baji called suddenly from where he sat cross-legged beside Draken. “Serious question.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

He grinned wickedly. “You sure you’re a girl?”

The entire group broke into a mix of groans and snickers.

“Baji…” Mitsuya warned, but it was too late.

Even Smiley jumped in. “For real, though. Hoodie, boots, baggy jeans. I thought you were one of the boys until, like… last month.”

“Didn’t she knock out that Mobius guy in, like, one hit?” Takemichi added, trying to defend you — but mostly just fueling the fire.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t frown. You were good at brushing this stuff off. You’d heard it before — from rivals, from randoms. But something about it coming from your people — even jokingly — made it stick just a little more than usual.

You pushed off Mikey’s bike and walked slowly toward them, stopping right in front of Baji.

He was still grinning until you flicked his forehead. Hard.

“Ow—!”

You smirked. “You wanna test if I hit like a girl again, or are you still nursing that bruise from last week?”

The others laughed. Even Baji had the decency to rub his forehead with a sheepish grin.

But the teasing… didn’t really stop. Just got quieter. Lingered in the way some of the boys eyed your outfit, or nudged each other when you sat back down. Like they couldn’t quite picture you in any other way.

Mikey had been quiet through it all. Now, he was watching you again — not with teasing or judgment, just that unreadable calm of his. Dorayaki half-eaten in his hand.

“Nothing?” you asked when you caught his eye.

He shrugged and licked his thumb clean. “I like you like this.”

A warmth bloomed in your chest — a quiet kind of comfort. You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, surprising him just enough to freeze. You chuckled.

“You taste like dorayaki.”

Then you kissed him again — soft, quick, on the lips — before pulling back to sit beside him on the step.

He blinked, then smiled to himself, mumbling, “Good.”

Still, even with his quiet reassurance, the teasing hung in the air like a thin mist — not heavy, but not entirely gone either.

__________________________________________________________________________

A few days passed after the teasing at the shrine.

You didn’t let it show, but their words echoed in your head more than you expected. Not in a way that made you feel insecure exactly — but it stirred something inside you. A quiet want to remind them, maybe even remind yourself, that just because you didn’t show it, didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

So tonight, when Mitsuya messaged the group about another Toman meetup at the shrine, you made a decision.

No hoodie. No combat boots.

Instead, you stood in front of your mirror in a soft, flowing dress — nothing flashy, but elegant in its simplicity. The fabric complimented your frame, and the color made your eyes stand out. Your hair was styled neatly — maybe a loose wave, maybe tied back with a soft ribbon. And the shoes? Cute, comfortable, and just a little dressy. Enough to make a statement.

You looked at yourself once more.

“You are a girl,” you whispered with a smirk.

Then you headed out.

The sun was just beginning to set when the Toman captains began gathering at the shrine again — laughter echoing, engines cooling, boys lounging on the steps with drinks and snacks in hand. It was the usual chaotic calm before a meeting.

Mikey was perched on the top step, half-lidded eyes scanning the horizon as he slowly nibbled at a dorayaki. His gang surrounded him in clusters — Baji play-fighting with Chifuyu, Draken arguing with Smiley over something dumb, and Mitsuya sketching something in a small notepad.

No one noticed you at first.

You didn’t roll up with a loud voice or stomp of boots like usual. This time, your arrival was silent. Smooth. Confident.

A dress — soft in color, simple but beautifully fitted — hugged your form and flowed with each step. Your hair was done — styled softly to frame your face — and your usual boots were replaced with adorable, polished shoes. No hoodie, no slouch. Just you, in a way they had never seen before.

You walked up the path like you owned it.

Baji was the first to glance your way.

He paused mid-sentence, blinking.

“…Yo, who’s that?” he muttered, elbowing Chifuyu.

“Dunno,” Chifuyu whispered back, eyes narrowed. “She lost or something?”

Mitsuya looked up next, brows furrowed. “Wait. She looks… kinda familiar?”

“Holy shit,” Draken murmured. “That’s— wait. No way.”

But Mikey didn’t look up. Not yet.

You walked past the others without a word — straight to the steps. His gaze lifted just as your shadow fell over him.

He blinked.

You smiled softly, leaned down — and kissed him on the lips. Light, sure, confident.

He went stiff, stunned — and then blinked again, his mouth parting slightly.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes and said sweetly:

“Miss me, baby?”

BOOM.

The realization hit all at once.

“Wait— THAT’S [Y/N]?!” Baji yelled.

“No. No way!” Chifuyu’s jaw dropped.

“What the f— you’re kidding me,” Smiley practically choked, appearing from behind the bikes.

Even Draken looked halfway between impressed and shocked. “That’s... definitely [Y/N]. What the hell.”

Mitsuya just leaned back and gave you a proud little nod. “Damn. You pulled that off like a runway model.”

Mikey stared up at you in a daze, still holding the half-eaten dorayaki like he forgot what it was. Then slowly, he smiled — lazy and warm, the kind of smile that made your knees a little weak even though you were the one with all the power right now.

“You really trying to give me a heart attack?” he muttered.

You laughed. “What? You didn’t recognize your own girlfriend?”

“I thought you were some kind of dream.” He reached for your hand, pulling you gently down to sit beside him. “A very pretty one.”

The rest of the gang was still making noise behind you, but Mikey didn’t care.

He pulled you in close, rested his forehead against yours, and whispered, “Remind me to never let anyone else see you like this without me standing right next to you.”

You smirked. “Possessive much?”

“Damn right.”

And with that, he kissed you again — this time slower, deeper, like the teasing didn’t matter anymore. Like he wanted to make it very clear you were his.

___________________________________________________________________________

Mitsuya Takashi:

The music pulsed low through the speakers of the small design club Mitsuya was part of — a cool, casual creative space filled with fabrics, threads, sketchbooks, and the occasional loud personality.

You usually didn’t come here. It wasn’t really your scene. But Mitsuya had left his bento behind, and you were already out, so you figured — why not drop it off?

Wearing your usual: black joggers, oversized hoodie, hair thrown up lazily, and sneakers you’d worn into far too many alley fights. You didn’t care — it was you. And Mitsuya never complained.

When you walked in, he was in the middle of helping two girls adjust a dress on a mannequin. They both turned as you approached.

One of them blinked, glanced at your outfit, then gave a tight smile.

“Oh… hi,” she said, eyes scanning you quickly. “Are you one of the junior designers?”

You smirked. “Nope. Just the delivery girl.”

Mitsuya looked up at the sound of your voice, and his face lit up instantly. “Hey, babe. You brought it? You’re the best.”

You tossed him the bento and leaned on the edge of a table, letting him finish his work. As you did, you could still hear the quiet voices behind you — whispers they definitely didn’t think you could hear.

“That’s his girlfriend?”

“She’s so… plain.”

“She dresses like a guy. I mean, he’s so stylish—”

“I thought he’d be into someone more… delicate, you know?”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even look back. You just stood there, cool and unbothered, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

Because deep down? You didn’t care what they thought.

But later, as you lay on your bed at home, a small thought slipped through:

Still… wouldn’t it be fun to shut them up without saying a word?

___________________________________________________________________________

A Few Days Later – Shrine Meeting Pickup

Mitsuya was finishing up club work when you texted him.

“I’ll meet you out front. Ready when you are, fashion prince.”

He chuckled and packed up his things, heading down the steps of the club with a light smile. You were always cracking jokes. Always casual, lowkey — always you.

So when he stepped outside and saw someone standing by the gate, dress fluttering gently in the breeze, he paused.

For a moment, he didn’t even realize it was you.

The dress you wore hugged you in all the right places, soft and flowy, not flashy — but effortlessly beautiful. Your hair was done, shoes delicate, and your usual confidence was still there… but this time, wrapped in elegance.

Mitsuya blinked.

And blinked again.

“…[Y/N]?”

You turned to him with a sweet smile. “Took you long enough.”

He slowly approached, eyes drinking you in like you were a piece of art — no, like you were the runway.

“Holy shit,” he muttered softly. “You look… breathtaking.”

You smirked, adjusting your dress lightly. “Too boyish for you now?”

Mitsuya frowned for half a second — then it clicked. His gaze darkened just a touch as he remembered the girls at the club.

“They said that?” he asked, voice low.

You shrugged. “Didn’t matter. I know you love me for me. Just figured… I’d give them something to think about.”

He reached out, took your hand gently, and pulled you close.

“I love you in your hoodies. I love you with messy hair. I love you when you’re wiping blood off your knuckles.” He leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “But seeing you like this? That’s not just pretty — it’s dangerous.”

You laughed softly. “Good. Let them be scared.”

He smirked, then kissed you, slow and firm — right there outside the club, where anyone could see. Not because he needed to prove something — but because he was proud.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, “You're mine. And they all just realized they never even stood a chance.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Chifuyu Matsuno:

The pet shop was slow that afternoon.

Chifuyu was restocking cat food behind the counter when the doorbell chimed and a girl — older high school maybe — walked in with that confident sway that made Baji would’ve whistled at, but Chifuyu didn’t even blink. He gave her a polite nod and went back to shelving cans.

But she didn’t move on. Instead, she leaned on the counter, elbow propped up, voice just a bit too sweet.

“You work here all the time, right? You’re kind of cute.” She smiled. “Are you single?”

Chifuyu paused. “Ah, no. I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head. “Where is she?”

Right on cue, the bell chimed again, and you walked in — hoodie, old jeans, sneakers. Comfortable, like always. You noticed the girl at the counter but didn’t think much of it. You headed toward Chifuyu, ready to hand him the drink you grabbed for him on the way.

The girl turned, eyeing you. Up. Down. Then smirked.

“This is your girlfriend?” she asked, not even trying to lower her voice.

You raised a brow. “Problem?”

She laughed, like it was a joke. “No, no... it’s just surprising. I figured he’d go for someone, I dunno— more feminine? Prettier?” She added, “No offense,” in a voice meant to offend.

Chifuyu stiffened behind the counter. “Hey, that’s enough.”

You just sipped your drink, unfazed. “You done?”

The girl rolled her eyes and walked out, muttering something under her breath that sounded like, “Should’ve been me.”

Chifuyu turned to you, brows drawn tight. “I’m sorry. That was—”

You cut him off with a grin. “Relax. It’s not the first time someone judged a book by its hoodie.”

Still, something in your chest twisted. Just a little.

___________________________________________________________________________

Chifuyu was waiting outside the little soba shop near your usual meeting spot, playing with his phone when he heard your footsteps. He looked up casually — and froze.

You were wearing the cutest outfit he had ever seen on you.

A soft, flowy skirt that hit just above your knees. A cozy sweater tucked in neatly. Delicate earrings. Your hair was styled, face softly made up — nothing over the top, just enough to look effortlessly beautiful.

“Hey,” you said, smiling.

Chifuyu just stared. Like you’d punched the wind out of him.

“Babe?” you tilted your head.

He blinked. “You’re... holy crap.”

You smirked. “Still think I’m not pretty enough for you?”

His whole face turned tomato red.

“No—! I mean— You’re always pretty, it’s not about the clothes— I just—damn.” He looked like he short-circuited.

“You okay, Chifuyu?”

He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, nodded quickly, and looked away like he needed to reboot. “Y-Yeah. I just wasn’t ready. You look like… like you stepped out of a movie or something.”

You laughed and leaned in to fix the collar of his jacket. “Good. I wanted you to see what ‘not pretty enough’ looks like.”

He finally turned back to you, eyes soft and serious now. “You didn’t need to prove anything. But... I’m really glad I get to be the only guy who sees you like this.”

You gave him a wink. “Only if you stop turning the color of your fish tanks.”

He groaned and muttered under his breath: “Too late for that.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Sanzu Haruchiyo:

The Bonten hideout was buzzing that evening — sharp suits, low voices, and tension like cigarette smoke in the air.

You were never one for flashy entrances. Hoodie on, hair tied back, combat boots heavy against the concrete floor as you made your way toward the back, where Sanzu was seated on one of the couches with a drink in his hand and a bored expression on his face.

There was a girl sitting next to him — one of the newer affiliates, clearly trying to climb the ranks by any means necessary. She laughed too loudly, leaned in too close.

Sanzu didn’t move. But his eyes flicked to the door the moment he sensed you.

The girl noticed. She turned too, eyebrows raising slightly at the sight of you.

“That her?” she asked, low. “The girlfriend?”

Sanzu hummed, swirling his drink.

The girl’s lips twitched. “Huh. I expected someone more... polished. She kind of looks like she works security.”

You reached the edge of the couch just in time to hear it.

“I do,” you said dryly. “His.”

The girl blinked.

Sanzu gave a wide, lazy grin — not even hiding how much he loved that.

The girl stood up fast, murmuring some fake apology and brushing past you.

You didn’t chase her.

But your fingers lingered a little on Sanzu’s shoulder as you walked by. “You free tomorrow night?”

He looked up at you like you were made of gold. “Always, baby.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The restaurant was private, upscale, drenched in dim lighting and heavy marble tables where the core Bonten members were already gathered. You were running a little late — intentionally.

Because tonight, you weren't wearing a hoodie.

You stepped into the room in a dark, body-hugging dress that split at the thigh, delicate chains brushing your collarbone, your makeup sharp and your heels clicking softly as you walked.

Conversation halted.

Rindou blinked. Ran actually coughed. Kakucho whispered something under his breath.

And Sanzu? Sanzu froze — eyes locked on you like he’d just watched a cathedral rise from the floor.

He stood up slowly, like in a trance, pushing his chair back with one hand and licking his bottom lip like he didn’t know what else to do with himself.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered.

You smiled, coming to stand in front of him. “Miss me?”

He grabbed your waist — not gentle — pulling you flush against him in front of everyone.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he said, voice low and ragged at your ear. “And it’s working.”

You leaned in, lips brushing his cheek. “Still think I look like security?”

He growled something under his breath and kissed you, hard, in full view of the Bonten table, like he was branding the moment into the timeline.

Later, as you sat on his lap while he lit a cigarette with shaking hands, he whispered against your neck:

“Next time someone says anything about you… they die before they finish the sentence.”

You laughed, sipping his drink. “Relax. I just like reminding them you’re mine.”

He pulled you closer, breath hot at your throat. “No one could ever forget.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Ran Haitani:

The Bonten meeting was already heating up when you walked into the lounge.

You weren’t dressed to impress. Just your usual look — hoodie, cargos, clean sneakers. Comfortable, low-effort. Just how Ran liked you.

You spotted him instantly: sprawled lazily on a black leather couch, legs crossed, one arm draped over the backrest like he owned the room. (He basically did.) He looked up the moment he felt your eyes on him — and smiled.

That lazy, lethal grin that said “Come here, baby.”

You were halfway across the room when a girl — tall, glossy, and clearly not from your side — stepped right into your path and shoulder-checked you hard enough to knock you off balance.

“Oops,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

You steadied yourself, shooting her a cold glance.

She turned to Ran with a syrupy voice. “Ran~ I didn’t know you were into ugly girls now.”

You blinked. Excuse me?

The room quieted just slightly. Someone muttered “damn” in the back.

Ran didn’t stand. He didn’t raise his voice.

He just leaned forward with a slow, sharp grin. “Huh. I didn’t know I was talking to a corpse.”

The girl blinked, confused.

Ran stood in one smooth, terrifying motion, walked straight past her, and stopped in front of you. Without a word, he slid one hand around your waist, tugged you flush against him, and kissed you — full, possessive, leaving-no-room-for-doubt.

You barely had time to gasp before he pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You good, pretty girl?”

You nodded, slightly dazed. “Yeah…”

He looked over his shoulder at the stunned girl still standing there, and with a light but pointed tone, said, “Next time you try to talk, don’t.”

Then, as if she no longer existed, he turned, led you over to the couch, and sat down — pulling you right onto his lap, tucking your legs over his, one arm still firm around your waist like you were made to fit there.

The girl stormed off, flustered and silent.

Ran kissed your temple and whispered, low, teasing:

“I dare someone else to try that again.”

You chuckled softly. “You really like making a scene, huh?”

He smirked. “No, baby. I like reminding everyone who you belong to.”

You leaned into his chest, grinning. “You’re lucky I do.”

He gave a little laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“No,” he whispered. “I’m the lucky one.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The warehouse was buzzing low with tension — Toman and Bonten finishing up a deal that had taken longer than expected. Everyone was watching, waiting, half-expecting trouble.

And trouble had a name — the same girl from before, standing near Ran with that smug look like she thought she’d won last time.

But this time, you weren’t the hoodie-and-sneakers girl.

No, today, you owned the room.

You stepped inside wearing a sleek black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, a daring slit running up the side. Your makeup was flawless — smoky eyes, deep red lips, hair cascading in soft waves. Your heels clicked confidently on the concrete floor.

Heads turned. Even the roughest gangsters paused. Ran’s eyes darkened as he caught sight of you.

The girl near Ran’s side froze — mouth open, completely caught off guard.

You smiled, slow and cold, as you walked over to him like you owned the place.

Sliding onto Ran’s lap, you leaned in and smoothly stole the cigarette from his lips, holding it between your fingers, and locking eyes with the stunned girl like she was beneath you.

“Miss me?” you purred, voice low and sharp.

The girl’s mouth snapped shut, and she took a step back, powerless.

Ran’s grin was wide, full of pride and amusement. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear.

“You look dangerous tonight, baby.” His breath was warm. “Good luck trying to forget who owns me.”

You gave a little laugh, flicking ash from the cigarette as you turned your eyes back to the girl, who was now fully retreating.

Ran cupped your face, kissed you deeply, and whispered, “You’re mine. Always.”

The room was electric. Everyone knew the message.

And no one dared to challenge it again.

___________________________________________________________________________

Rindou Haitani:

The Bonten hideout was shrouded in cigarette smoke and low conversations, a familiar haze that settled like a second skin. You were leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, watching the usual dance of power and strategy between gang members.

Sanzu was there, of course. Always watching, always sharp. And tonight, he had his sights set on you.

He flicked ash from his cigarette, eyes gleaming with that sly, dangerous amusement only he could pull off.

“Never seen you dress up before,” he called out, voice dripping with mockery. “Do you even know how? Or are hoodies the only thing you’re comfortable in?”

The room shifted slightly; some chuckled, some glanced your way, waiting for your reaction.

You just smiled — a slow, confident curve of your lips that promised something different.

___________________________________________________________________________

The street was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights as you stepped out of your building.

A sleek black luxury car waited at the curb, the engine humming softly. Behind the wheel, a professional-looking driver sat, eyes forward, ready to go.

But it was the man standing outside the car who caught your attention.

Rindou — sharp suit, cool and calm — leaned casually against the door, his arms crossed. His dark eyes locked on you the moment you appeared, a slow smile spreading across his face.

You were wearing a dark red dress that hugged your figure beautifully — the fabric silky and smooth, accentuating your curves and tone with elegance. The slit on the side revealed just enough to turn heads without saying a word. Your hair fell in loose waves, your makeup perfect with smoky eyes and matching red lips.

Rindou pushed off the car and approached, his gaze hungry and possessive.

“Damn,” he said quietly. “You look like trouble.”

You smiled, stepping closer. “Exactly what you need.”

He opened the door for you with a flourish, then held your hand as you slid into the backseat. The driver started the engine, and the car pulled away smoothly into the night.

The restaurant was dim and classy, the kind of place that made everyone sit up and notice when you walked in.

Sanzu was already there, leaning against a pillar with that cocky smirk. His eyes flicked over you and Rindou.

“Never saw you dress like that before,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

You didn’t flinch.

Instead, you walked over to Rindou, sliding onto his lap as if you owned the place.

After you slid onto Rindou’s lap, the room held its breath.

You locked eyes with Sanzu and coolly said, “Hope you learned to shut up now, Sanzu.”

Without hesitation, Rindou grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. His lips crashed onto yours — deep, fierce, and full of possession.

He kissed you like he was marking his territory, like the whole world was watching and he wanted to make sure no one could miss it.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes burned with fierce pride.

“Sanzu doesn’t know how hot you are,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “And he sure as hell doesn’t know that you’re mine.”

His hands held you tight, as if letting go was unthinkable.

You smiled against him, heart pounding.

“Good. Let him think whatever he wants. I’m right here.”

Rindou’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

“Exactly. And I’ll make sure everyone remembers that.”

The room was silent — the message clear.

You were his. And no one could take that away.

___________________________________________________________________________

Shinichiro Sano:

Shinchiro was behind the counter of his shop, focused and calm as usual, fixing a bike with his sleeves rolled up.

You leaned casually against the doorway, dressed in your usual comfortable, boyish clothes — hoodie, jeans, sneakers — because, honestly, that’s just how you liked it.

A couple of gang members were hanging out nearby, watching you both with that teasing smirk.

One of them nudged the other and said loud enough for Shinchiro to hear, “Man, she’s like one of the guys, huh? Hard to believe she’s even his girlfriend.”

Another laughed, “Yeah, kinda forgot she was even a girl sometimes.”

You just rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything.

Shinchiro glanced up and smiled softly at you, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe he was the lucky one.

__________________________________________________________________________

The sun was dipping low, casting a warm golden glow over the quiet street as you approached Shinchiro’s shop.

This time, you weren’t wearing your usual hoodie and sneakers.

Instead, you stepped out in a soft cream blouse with delicate lace trimming at the cuffs, tucked neatly into a flowing navy skirt that swayed gently with each step. Your hair was styled into loose waves that framed your face perfectly, and your makeup was subtle but glowing — just enough to highlight your natural beauty.

You walked with quiet confidence, the soft click of your polished flats echoing slightly on the pavement.

The gang members leaning against the walls outside the shop immediately noticed.

The conversation around them froze. One of the guys stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide.

“Is that… her?” another whispered, disbelief clear in his voice.

The usual teasing smirks vanished, replaced by stunned silence.

Shinchiro, coming from inside the shop, stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you.

His eyebrows lifted, and his breath hitched for a second.

“Wow,” he murmured, voice low and full of awe.

You smiled softly, stepping closer until you were just beside him.

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek.

“You look… incredible,” he said quietly, his eyes shining with something tender and proud.

From the corner of the street, Wakasa leaned casually against the wall, watching the scene with a sly grin.

He called out loud enough for everyone to hear, voice full of authority and humor:

“And this is why you shut the fuck up when it’s about Shins girlfriend.”

The group exchanged embarrassed glances, knowing better than to argue.

Shinchiro pulled you into a quiet embrace, his hand resting protectively on your lower back.

“I still don’t know how I got so lucky,” he whispered into your hair.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words.

“Well, lucky’s on your side,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

___________________________________________________________________________

Wakasa Imaushi:

Wakasa lounged against the cracked brick wall outside the usual hangout, a cigarette lazily perched between his fingers. The dull orange glow pulsed rhythmically as he exhaled smoke, eyes half-lidded in that usual relaxed, cool expression. The world around him seemed slow, the evening light casting long shadows as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

You approached quietly, your footsteps soft on the concrete, but this time something was different. No hoodie. No oversized jacket. No boyish jeans.

Instead, you wore a summer dress — soft and flowing, the fabric light as air, with gentle pastel hues that caught the fading sunlight and seemed to shimmer. The dress hugged your waist just right, flaring gently into a skirt that fluttered softly with each step. Your hair was styled simply, but in a way that made you glow with a delicate, feminine beauty that Wakasa had never really seen before.

His cigarette suddenly slipped from his lips and hit the ground with a soft clatter, forgotten.

Wakasa’s dark eyes flicked up, wide with surprise and something raw and unguarded.

For the first time, the usual calm, almost indifferent mask faded.

His breath hitched, and the slow, lazy smile he usually wore vanished as he stared at you, his gaze tracing every curve, every detail of this new, stunning version of you.

He straightened, pushing off the wall with a sharpness that made the air between you crackle.

His movements were slow and deliberate as he closed the distance, like he wanted to savor every moment of this surprise.

When he reached you, he lifted one hand gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing softly, reverently, across your skin.

His voice came low, rough around the edges, but filled with a possessive warmth:

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

Then, without hesitation, he leaned in.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was slow, deep, and fierce — like staking a claim on you in a way words never could.

The cigarette smoke seemed to disappear entirely as you lost yourself in that kiss, feeling the heat of his desire and the protective intensity behind it.

When Wakasa finally pulled away, his dark eyes burned with pride and something softer — admiration, awe.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Always have been. But this… this is something else.”

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest, knowing this was a moment neither of you would forget.

Wakasa pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours, and added quietly, “No one else better even think about it.”

The streetlights flickered on, casting a soft glow around you both, but all Wakasa saw was you.

___________________________________________________________________________

Hanma Shuji:

The pulsing lights of Hanma’s club cut through the smoke-filled air as music throbbed from every corner. The usual chaos of the night buzzed all around, but Hanma’s eyes never left the entrance.

He was leaning casually against the bar, a glass of something dark in his hand, his signature devilish grin playing on his lips.

Normally, you’d stroll in like always — hoodie up, jeans, sneakers, blending into the rough crowd with that boyish comfort that Hanma secretly loved.

But tonight was different.

When you walked through the door wearing a tight, sexy dress that hugged your body perfectly, showing just enough skin to drive him wild, the entire room seemed to dim.

Your heels clicked confidently on the floor, turning heads left and right — but Hanma’s gaze was locked on you, sharp and hungry.

Without breaking his gaze, Hanma pushed through the crowd and pulled out the seat next to him.

As you settled down, he didn’t just let you sit quietly.

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

His fingers pressed possessively against your hips, tracing slow, deliberate circles.

Then his other hand moved to your thigh, fingers grazing up and down with a teasing, almost electric touch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Not some hoodie-wearing kid tonight.”

You smirked, leaning into him, your lips close to his ear.

“Thought I’d shake things up,” you teased.

Hanma’s grin widened, dark and dangerous.

“You do more than shake things up, baby.”

He tightened his hold on your hips, pulling you even closer as his eyes sparkled with wicked amusement.

“Don’t think I’m gonna let you out of my sight tonight.”

The tension between you crackled like electricity, the wild energy of the club fading into the background as you two owned the moment — fierce, unstoppable, and utterly magnetic.

[cannellee]

♡. TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE

𐐪 alpha! tokyorev x omega! reader · (draken, ryusei, kazutora, hanma, rindou, sanzu, shinichiro, chifuyu, baji, mikey)

— synopsis : their girlfriend says something totally innocent, or she thought. they catch the double meaning right away, while she remains clueless.

cw : suggestive dialogue, innocent and clueless girlfriend, misunderstandings, sexual references, kinda nsfw.

note : i'm slowly restyling my blog, finally saying bye to the red & strawberry-coded vibe. this post is part of the new look (although the only change here is the colour, and i also might change it again in the future). but i'm also working on a new masterlist layout. curious to know how you feel about the softer format (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

MY MASTERLIST : 💌

♡. ALPHA! DRAKEN (guys love when girls make sounds)

you're walking home with draken after a late dinner, the city quiet around you, just the echo of your steps and the occasional passing car. his jacket is slung over your shoulders, and you’re sharing a bag of snacks you picked up at the store.

you bite a biscuit, then say thoughtfully, “my friends said guys really like when omegas make noises.”

draken slows a little beside you. “…noises?”

you nod, completely casual, thinking about the conversation you had earlier. “yeah. like when we’re eating or watching something. they said alphas feel more connected or something when they can hear what you’re feeling instead of just guessing.”

he stops mid-step, and turns his head slowly toward you.

you only blink up at him, a little confused. “what?”

draken presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, watching your face like he’s trying to figure out if you’re messing with him. but you’re not. at all.

and so he exhales slowly through his nose and keeps walking.

you keep going too, unfazed. “they were saying stuff like, ‘don’t just sit there, if it’s good, let him hear it.’” you say, imitating one of your friends with a laugh. “‘make a little sound, show appreciation, y’know?’ i guess alphas are more sensory-driven?”

draken is staring ahead now, jaw a little tight.

but you dont notice any change in him, so you keep going, and glance up at him again. “i’ve been trying it. like earlier at dinner when that soup hit just right? I was like ‘mmh’ without even thinking.”

“…yeah.” draken’s voice comes out lower than usual. “i noticed.”

you smile brightly, proud of your progress. “right? it kinda feels nice too. like I’m not holding anything in.”

he hums, hand tightening slightly on the convenience bag. but as usual, you don’t notice.

“i think i’ll try it when we watch that movie you picked out. let myself be a little more expressive.”

draken clears his throat, shifting the bag to his other hand. “just—maybe tone it down if there are other guys around.”

you blink. “huh? why?”

he glances at you, expression unreadable. “because i know what they’ll hear when you do that.”

you frown in confusion, gentle eyes trying to understand what he meant by reading his face. “hear what?”

but he doesn’t answer. instead, he just puts his arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you a little closer to his side. his scent settles heavier around you, it's warm and grounding, you always love when he does that. it makes you feel safe.

“…what did you think i meant?” you ask.

he chuckles, lowly. “nothing, baby. just remind me to have a little talk with your friends.”

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! RYUSEI (nervous with first times...)

the sun’s lowering over the park, soft orange stretching across the concrete path as ryusei walks beside you, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding the soda you’ve both been sipping from.

your scent is warm in the evening air, the kind of softness only an omega can have, the one that lingers subtly when you’re relaxed.

you’re sitting on the edge of a bench now, legs swinging slightly. you take the soda back, fiddling with the straw mindlessly with your fingers. and then you say it, all quiet and casual :

“i get kinda nervous with first times.”

ryusei pauses, just a second too long and then repositions himself slightly, leaning an elbow on the backrest, his eyes sharp now.

“first times?” he repeats, his voice was soft but laced with interest. “you mean, like… trying new things?”

you nod without looking up, lips curling around the straw, taking another sip.

“yeah. i never know what to say. i always overthink it. but… i like figuring it out with someone I trust.”

and with that, he stills. because there’s no way you realize what that sounds like.

and yet, you're all soft posture, calm breathing, sitting close enough that your scent reaches him, untouched by the breeze. you’re not even doing anything, just being yourself in the most innocent way.

ryusei clears his throat, covering the heat crawling up the back of his neck.

“right,” he says, with a low smirk. “good thing i’m pretty experienced.”

and at that, you giggle, finally looking up at him. “you mean with awkward new things?”

“sure. whatever you call them.”

and then, there’s a slight pause. and just when he thinks you’re about to shyly apologise for saying something so out of pocket, the way you always do when you catch yourself thinking out loud, you tilt your head up and add : “like the first time i had to cook for a whole family. i totally froze. i didn’t even know how to preheat the oven.”

ryusei blinks at your confession, totally thrown.

“…oh,” he says, slightly after. and then he chuckles, leaning back and letting the tension leave his shoulders.

“that’s… not what i thought you meant.”

and you frown softly at him, not sure what he actually had in mind. “what’d you think i meant?”

“never mind,” he says, smiling lazily. his voice is lower now, but in a calm way. though you didn't notice how tensed he had been since you started talking.

you laugh a little, oblivious. “i burned the garlic bread. i was so embarrassed. but i didn’t feel as bad after, because they still liked it.”

and he watches you as talk, all sweet and happy, head tilted slightly. “you always do that.”

“do what?”

“talk like that.” his eyes narrow a little, still amused. “say stuff that sounds like something else, and act like you’ve got no idea.”

you blink slowly at him, looking genuinely confused. “…something else like what?”

he doesn’t answer you. he just leans in, close enough to catch another inhale of your scent, and takes the bottle from your hand.

“you really don’t know, huh?”

you smile easily with that soft look you always give him, shrugging. “i just like talking to you.”

ryusei exhales through his nose, something between a laugh and a sigh. his instincts tickling him upon witnessing how oblivious you could get.

he ends up handing you the soda back. “you’re dangerous.”

and you blink again, soft scent hugging him almost mockingly. “what?”

“nothing,” he says, dismissing your question. “you wanna go get dinner?”

and you nod, hopping up without hesitation, brushing your hand against his arm in passing, delighted to be spending time with your boyfriend.

and ryusei follows, quiet, amused, and just a little bit on edge, wondering how long he’s going to survive this kind of innocence.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! KAZUTORA (been doing lots of stuff with other guys lately...)

you’re sitting side by side on the couch, both scrolling lazily on your phones. the room is totally quiet except for the faint city sounds slipping through the windows.

you're thinking a bit too much, as usual, and that's when, out of nowhere, you say like it’s nothing : “i’ve been doing a lot of stuff with other guys lately.”

kazutora’s eyes snap up, heart pounding a little faster. he tries to keep calm, but his voice drops low, cautious. “stuff?”

you bite your lip, thinking for a second, which doesn't help your case.

“yeah… like hanging out, talking, and sometimes they ask me to give them a hand with things.”

kazutora freezes for a moment, his mind racing. 'give them a hand' sounds innocent enough, but there’s an edge to it that makes him extra cautious, especially since kazutora knows how you somehow always end up in weird situations.

and so he leans in, voice quieter but tense. “what kind of things?”

you shrug, totally unaware of the implications. “oh, you know… stuff like helping them study or giving advice for group projects, but sometimes they ask for… other stuff too."

kazutora’s jaw tightens. his protective instincts kicking in hard, heart hammering, he doesn't know where this is going, but he somehow absolutely hates it.

“other stuff?”

you nod like it’s no big deal. “yeah, like sometimes they want me to do things i’m not really sure about. but I just say yes, I don’t like turning people down.”

kazutora exhales slowly but the worry doesn’t leave his eyes, it even gets worse, scent barely held in. he’s silent for a moment, trying to imagine what she might mean. his mind spins through possibilities, tension taking over all his senses.

“you’re telling me other guys ask you for things you don’t even wanna do… and you just go along with it?” he finally says quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.

you smile softly, still clueless. “yeah, basically. but it’s easier to just help out than explain why not.”

kazutora nods slowly, his jaw ticks and he laughs once, bitterly, like he can’t believe you just said that so casually. a few seconds pass in silence, the air thick with his rising anger, unsure what to say first, how to address the fact that other alphas have been taking advantage of your sweet nature.

but you don't notice that, and you add casually, "like the other day, this guy i don't even know asked me to help him practice introducing himself before a big meeting. he was really nervous.”

kazutora blinks, the tension draining away. his expression shifts to confusion, absolutely blown away by what you just said. but relief soon takes over his mind.

“wait… that’s it?”

you grin, completely unaware of the panic you just put him through. “yeah! i’m just too nice, i guess.”

kazutora laughs softly, shaking his head. he reaches over and kisses your forehead, feeling lighter now that the misunderstanding is cleared.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! HANMA (like warm and sticky stuff)

the kitchen smells like vanilla and cinnamon, warm and sweet and a little chaotic. there's flour on the counter, a spoon is dropped into the sink, and you're leaning over the mixing bowl, swiping some of the gooey batter onto your finger with a satisfied hum.

hanma stands across from you, sleeves rolled up, grinning as you sneak another taste.

“god, i love swallowing warm, sticky stuff,” you sigh, licking your finger clean. “it reminds me of when i was little and used to eat frosting off the spoon. it’s just so comforting.”

and there’s a pause. then, with a loud clang, hanma drops the mixing bowl.

batter splatters onto the floor in slow motion, and you let out a startled yelp, “hanma! that was our last batch!”

but he’s not listening. instead, he’s bent over, bracing himself against the counter, laughing so loud. his whole body shakes, and he actually wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.

“you—” his laughter makes it hard to speak clearly, “you’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”

you frown, crouched down with a rag in your hand, already cleaning his mess. “what? i was just talking about the batter.”

he stares at you, absolutely delighted. “you don’t even know what you just said, do you?”

you tilt your head, confused, and repeat yourself. “that i like eating the warm—”

he practically chokes hearing you, grabbing the edge of the counter to steady himself.

“oh, my sweet baby,” he says between laughs, “you say the filthiest things with the most innocent face.”

your eyebrows knit together, clearly confused. “i’m not filthy! i was just—”

“—swallowing something warm and sticky, yeah, i got it.” he finishes, still grinning like it’s the best thing he’s heard all week.

you narrow your eyes at him. “why is that funny?”

he walks around the counter, still laughing under his breath as he crouches down to help you clean up the spilled batter, hand brushing yours as he leans close enough for his voice to drop lower. "you're dangerous, y'know that? sayin' stuff like that with no clue what it does to me."

you blink, soft eyes looking up at his amused face. “...for saying i like cake batter?”

and he just laughs again, shaking his head, clearly giving up on trying to explain.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! RINDOU (guys love it when girls use their mouth)

you and rindou are sitting on the rooftop of your apartment building, the city lights twinkling below you. the night air is cool, you’re sharing a bag of chips and you’re mid-rant about your younger cousin’s school struggles.

“she’s so stressed,” you say, frowning as you remember the phone call you just had with her. “she says the boys in her class never get what she’s trying to say, and she ends up getting blamed for stuff during group work.”

rindou hums disinterestedly beside you, more focused on your voice than the actual words. he likes how you talk when you’re distracted : thoughtful, cute, a little out of breath from talking so much, and that sweet scent you let out only near him.

you dig in the bag for more chips and add, almost too calmly for him, “apparently guys love it when girls use their mouth.”

his heart misses a beat and he's snapping his head towards you. “…what?”

you glance up at him, puzzled. “yeah, like when they explain things properly? instead of just expecting guys to magically understand.”

he stares at you for a while, like he just got hit by a brick. but you don’t notice, as you’re too busy unwrapping the chocolate you found in your pocket.

“my cousin said the boys get super frustrated when girls just kind of stare and wait for them to guess what they mean. so i told her : just use your mouth. speak up. say what you want.”

he covers the lower half of his face with his hand, ears flushed pink. “please stop saying it like that,” he mutters under his breath.

you blink at him, absolutely confused at the change in his scent. “huh?”

“nothing,” he coughs, shaking his head, lips twitching as he tries to erase a grin. “just… remind me never to let you give advice when I'm not around.”

you shrug, tossing the wrapper into back into your pocket, “why? i think i give great advice.”

he doesn't respond, simply laughs at you, and how cute you're being. so you give him a playful nudge, not understanding where his agitation comes from. “you’re weird.”

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! SANZU (a nice, deep sleep)

you’re lying stretched out on the couch, the late afternoon sun spreading its soft shadows around the room. your voice is low and almost dreamy when you whisper, “i like it when i can’t move the next morning. it means it was a good night.”

sanzu, sitting beside you, blinks slowly, his eyes narrowing, playful but confused. “...what kind of night are we talking about here?”

you grin, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “sleep, silly. like, a really deep kind of sleep. you know, the kind where you wake up sore all over but totally refreshed.”

he lets out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face as his expression softens into something almost amused, looking at you with gentle eyes, as if you were the most precious thing ever. “baby, you don’t make it easy for me, do you?”

you lift your head, catching his eyes with a small, innocent smile. “well, maybe i like it when you tire me out.”

sanzu’s eyes darken just a little at that, and he moves closer to you, his voice dropping low and calm. “well, next time, just tell me. i want to be ready for you.”

you sit back, feeling the warmth of him beside you, his presence comfortable and making you feel safe and protected.

and the subtle hum of his steady breathing tells you he’s more than willing, even proud, to take care of his omega, no matter what kind of night it is. (soft sanzu!!!)

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! SHINICHIRO (need both hands)

you’re trying to help shinichiro carry a heavy box into the house, even though he insisted you stay still and safe.

the edges dig into your palms, and you’re struggling to keep a grip. suddenly, your fingers slip, and the box tilts dangerously.

you gasp, dropping it with a soft noise on the floor. “oh my god, it slipped out of my hands... it was so thick, I could barely wrap my fingers around it.”

shinichiro freezes, eyes wide in a second before his breath stays stuck in his throat. “…what now?”

you huff, rubbing your palms like that’ll make the sting go away, admitting shinichiro was right and that you should've just rested on the couch.

“the box,” you say, cheeks flushing faintly, “the corners are just too wide. you’re stronger than me though, so you can probably handle it better.”

he blinks slowly, then looks up at the ceiling as if asking the sky to give him patience. his voice is low, with a mixture of exasperation and amusement, visibly shocked at what can come out of his omega's mouth so innocently.

“i am SO in love with you, but damn, you say some wild stuff.”

you roll your eyes playfully at him and start to walk past him, muttering under your breath, “i'll need both hands next time.” oblivious to the way he almost drops to his knees at your innocent words, that sounded way too dirty for him.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! CHIFUYU (so big it breaks your jaw)

you’re sitting outside the konbini store, sipping a peach juice from the carton. chifuyu sits beside you, slowly unwrapping his sandwich without saying much, only listening to your rambling.

you take a bite of your snack and mutter, “ugh, that was way bigger than i expected.”

that catches his attention, and chifuyu glances over, eyebrows knitting slightly in concern.

“like, i thought it’d be bite-sized, but my jaw literally cracked trying to get a single bite.”

you say it completely casually, as if you’re just talking about the size of your snack, which you are. meanwhile, chifuyu’s eyes look down for a moment, his throat tightens, and he shifts awkwardly, clearly caught off guard by the unintended double meaning.

“you… you okay?” he asks, voice a little unsteady, playing it cool but failing miserably.

you nod, poking at your wrapper and smiling softly. “yeah, just didn’t expect it to be that big. didn’t look that way from the outside.”

chifuyu clears his throat, cheeks flushing faintly, and he quickly looks away, blinking rapidly as if trying to reset his thoughts. feeling guilty for what goes through his head when you look so clueless and peaceful, munching on a little piece of chocolate you took from the bag.

you smile at him, oblivious to how flustered he’s gotten, and keep sipping your juice. chifuyu slowly calms down, thanking the comforting pheromones you let out, and reminding himself to keep his cool next to you.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! KAKUCHO (poor gag reflex)

you’re sitting side by side on the couch with kakucho, sharing a big cup of bubble tea. the kind scent of your boyfriend surrounds you as you chew thoughtfully on one of the tapioca pearls.

and suddenly, you pause, brows furrowing slightly. “i always forget i have a really sensitive gag reflex.”

kakucho’s eyes narrow just a bit, his breathing steady but there's a faint surprise inside his gaze. “you do?”

you nod at his question, swirling the straw between your fingers. “yeah. these pearls... if i don’t chew them enough, they get stuck. one moment i’m fine, the next i’m tearing up like I’m about to cry.”

he watches you carefully, expression calm but clearly registering the unintentional effect of your words, amused but worried at how casually you can say such stuff.

he leans back slowly and lets out a shaky breath, voice low and even. “you don’t realize what you say sometimes, do you?”

you look up at him, genuinely confused, scent soft and innocent. “huh? i’m just talking about the boba.”

his eyes darken slightly as he meets your gaze, voice dropping again, low and steady. “you make it harder than it has to be".

you smile softly, oblivious to the weight behind his words, deciding to just go back to sipping your drink.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! BAJI (love to keep a mouth full)

you’re sitting outside, enjoying each other's presence, your soft scents enveloping the both of you. the sun is slowly setting, the day coming to an end, leaving you all tired and in your own little world.

you pick up a pen from the ground, turning it thoughtfully between your fingers. and then, without much thought, you say to baji, "i’m kinda weird, you know? i really like having stuff in my mouth, even if it’s not food."

baji glances over at you, one eyebrow quirking up as a slow, knowing grin spreads across his face. "not food?"

you shrug, smiling softly like it’s no big deal. “yeah. sometimes i chew on pens or straws when i’m thinking. helps me focus.”

he chuckles low, leaning back on his hands, watching you with a mix of amusement and something quieter, loving how you can say the most out of pocket things. “never knew that about you.”

you shrug again, completely casual, unaware of the double meaning lingering beneath your words. “i guess it’s a bad habit or something, but i can’t help it. it makes me feel calm.”

baji’s gaze lingers on you a little longer, entertained by your innocence, knowing full well how that sounded. he keeps his voice soft, careful not to break the peaceful mood between you two. “good to know you’ve got your ways.”

you grin and hold out the pen to him, inviting him to do the same. “want to try?”

he laughs quietly, shaking his head with a smirk. “nah, I’ll leave that one to you.”

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! MIKEY (sitting on it just right)

you’re hanging out by mikey’s bike in the garage, the afternoon sun peaking through the window. he’s wiping down the seat when you glance over, curious.

“i’ve never really sat on a bike like this before,” you say, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “it looks kinda… intimidating.”

mikey smirks, not saying anything yet, just enjoying your presence and how you always have so much to say, filling his ears with your soft voice.

you keep talking, totally chill, like you’re just sharing your thoughts. “i mean, you gotta really get on it, right? like, sit down hard enough so you don’t slip off. i bet it takes some time getting used to it.”

he raises an eyebrow at your words, but you don’t notice. you simply keep going, “yeah, and your legs have to grip it tight, or you’re not gonna stay steady when it moves.”

mikey finally looks up at you, a little amused. “you’re overthinking it.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “nah, i’m serious. i can imagine it’s kinda rough at first, but that’s just part of learning, right?”

he leans back, folding his arms, trying to keep his cool. “yeah… sitting on it the right way’s important.” he answers, a bit cautious.

you grin, nodding. “exactly! i don’t wanna mess it up when i'll first try. i want to be good at it.”

mikey clears his throat, voice low and amused. “maybe I should teach you sometime.” he says, watching how you happily hop onto the seat at his words, absolutely clueless at how your words affect him.

💌 thank you for reading (❀´ ˘ `❀) ♡

— i really liked the concept behind this one, but somehow i'm not entirely satisfied with how it turned out. i feel like it could've been better... i hope you still enjoyed though !

— i actually planned to make it into two parts, but i ended up writing for ten characters all in this one instead, so no part two ig! (or only if you have other characters in mind!!)

[beeing1alive]

Could you play the Tokyo Revengers characters with a really pretty girlfriend?

Note: Of course and I had a lot of fun writing this

f.t.: Mikey (Manjirō Sanō); Draken (Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya (Takashi Mitsuya); Chifuyu (Chifuyu Matsuno); Baji (Keisuke Baji); Takemichi (Takemichi Hanagaki); Angry (Souya Kawata), Smiley (Nahoya Kawata); Hakkai (Hakkai Shiba); Kazutora (Kazutora Hanemija), Koko (Hajime Kokonoi); Inupi (Inui Seishu); Hanma (Shuji Hanma)

Mikey is not at all shy about telling you how perfect and really perfect you look in every conceivable situation. You go for a walk? He tells you he's never seen anything prettier. You're in the shower? He's practically glued to it and won't stop telling you how wonderful you look.

Draken almost always looks at you. At least whenever he can. For some reason, his eyes are always around you, no matter what you're wearing. He might go crazy if you're wearing a short skirt or a tight shirt because he can't help but stare at your accentuated body parts and blush every time you move even slightly. We won't go into that any further.

Mitsuya always gets extreme love attacks when you wear clothes that he has made. He always adjusts every seam and every fabric to your perfect body, so that all the wonderful parts are highlighted. Every time you walk around in front of him in one of these pieces of clothing, he forgets how to breathe and has to turn away to hide his blushing face.

Chifuyu thought at the beginning of your relationship that you were only with him because you wanted to get closer to one of his friends. Not a single girl has ever looked at him the way his friends are looked at, so he wondered why such a beautiful person fell in love with him. But after your first kiss, he realised that love can't be faked so well.

Baji got a nosebleed when he saw you for the first time. You just walked into the classroom in your school uniform and as soon as he caught a glimpse of your pretty face, it happened. Of course he was terribly uncomfortable and that wasn't the first impression he wanted to make on you, but at least now you can tease him every time he stares at you.

Takemichi wonders every day why someone like you, who could get anyone with his beauty, would want to be with him. You just look so pretty with that sweet grin painted on your perfect face. He thinks that you are a work of art. Of course, he's not just with you because you're pretty, but honestly, he loves your body.

Angry adores your body and he just can't keep his hands off you. Not just in the kinky sense, but much more in general. He's very shy, but even so, his little finger is given away with yours as soon as he walks or stands next to you. There is simply no prettier creature for him than you.

Smiley really does show you off a lot. To be honest, he always stands behind you so that you come into your own in front of him. It's just his thing to stand behind you, one arm around your waist, like: I know, she's a masterpiece, isn't she? Well, unfortunately it's already mine. I don't know why, but his grin always gets a little more mischievous when he sees that another boy staring at you and then realises who is standing behind you.

Hakkai is, just to be clear, extremely shy around pretty much any girl. You're certainly no exception. But we're only talking about in public here. Behind closed doors, he can hardly keep his hands or eyes away from you. He likes it best when you only wear short and comfortable clothes so that he can see a lot of your skin.

Kazutora hasn't seen you for a long time and honestly? He almost fainted when he saw what a beautiful young woman you had become. He quickly got used to it though and made a habit of admiring and loving every inch of your perfect body. He just can't help himself.

Koko loves your body and every inch of it. Sometimes you're just lying on your sofa scrolling through social media and he lies on top of you and draws circles and lines on your body. He loves these moments, especially because he can really relax, as he usually works so much and hardly gets any rest. And he has a clear view of your body…

Inupi stares at you from a distance and when you notice it, he looks away and blushes so much that you know he was staring has been staring. Your body is simply too hypnotising for him and he doesn't know what to do about it. Every single movement looks perfect and every part of your body is wonderful.

Hanma rarely tells you how great you look, but he definitely shows it. Not intentionally, but he shows it. Sometimes you notice how he stares at you with extraordinary affection or how he absently strokes your body and hums softly. He actually wonders why you're with him. With your beauty, you could have anyone. Oh God, he just loves you too much.

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[rinsoap]

THEM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND!

includes : ken ryuguji and baji keisuke. they are in their late teens/early 20s.

note : UR WELCOME TO THE FOURTEEN REQS IN MY INBOX BEGGING FOR BAJI CONTENT! i was gonna write mitsuya and mikey but i got tired lol

ken ryuguji as your boyfriend.

he loves taking you out on his bike. he likes how you hold him so tightly, and he likes the feeling of your cheek pressed against his back. when you first asked him, he was a little wary at first because he was kind of scared you might get hurt, but who was he to say no to his girl?

the girls at the brothel fucking love you. you exchange makeup tips and self care remedies, they pinch your cheek and tell you how cute you are. "hi love, what are you doing here looking so pretty!? ain't she pretty, kenny? yeahh he thinks so, look at him, he's blushing" "'course i think she's pretty, i'm the one dating her" oh and they love to give you life advice too; men, money, independance, all of it. draken is embarassed by how they act, but you think it's sweet.

he hates being posted to your socials. he's cool with it if his face isn't in the picture, but he values his privacy. his own social media presence is practically nonexistent, other than one highlight with one story from your birthday of you holding flowers he got you. the song he posted to you is my girl by the temptations.

though he likes his privacy, he does like pda. not intense pda, it's not like y'all have your tongues down each other's throats in public or anything, but he likes a lil kiss here n there. his arm around your waist, or your fingers intertwined with his. a kiss on your shoulder, and always one on your lips before you part. and while he doesn’t typically like to make a scene, when he misses you its a whole different story. he loves when you run to him when you see him after being away from each other for far too long, throwing your arms around his shoulders and his wrap around your waist to spin you around, peppering the side of your face with kisses as you tell him how much you missed him through giggles. "missed you too, angel," a kiss on your jaw. "i'm sorry i've been so busy lately," a kiss on your cheek "'m gonna make it up to you though, i promise." a kiss on your lips. yeah, it's that kind of pda.

he will call you so many pet names, it's not even funny. they're out of his mouth before he even realizes it. it's not like he hides his loving side exactly, it's just that with you, he gets to be a whole other type of gushy. his friends make fun of him whenever they get a glimpse of his softer side when he speaks to you, but he does not care!!! he'll never stop calling you his pretty princess or kissing your cheek or holding all your bags when you go shopping just because his friends think he's whipped. he would happily admit that they're right!!

baji keisuke as your boyfriend.

he may come across as cold, but make no mistake, physical touch is his love language. he always finds himself gravitating to touching you, even in public. whether he's holding your hand or resting his head on your shoulder or tracing hearts and stars into the skin of your thigh, he just wants to touch you!!! in private, it is so much more egregious. he'll be on top of you, attacking you with kisses, hands roaming over your skin. he loves when you sleep over because then he can extend his time to cuddle with you. he likes little spoon and big spoon equally, he just wants SOMEONE to be held!!!

he has and will fight someone for you, absolutely no question. he doesn't exactly get jealous, you express how much you love him enough for him to have interalized it, but he does let a threat or two slip out when a man's flirting with you right in front of him. when someone is being creepy to you, yes, he has been known to throw a couple punches. he'll stop when you ask!! its not like he's batshit!!!! when he's finished, you tend to his wounds. muttering about how stupid he is but giving him a kiss to his temple.

he knows how obsessed you are with his hair. he watches you from the corner of his eye, staring lip tucked between your teeth as he puts it up. he complains, but he secretly loves it. "man you treat me like some slut" "true i'm just using you for your hair. one day you'll wake up bald and i'll be half way across the country with a ziploc bag full of your beautiful hair" "i hate you" he loves lying on top of you, cheek pressed against your chest as you run your fingers through your hair. he always ends up mumbling how much he loves you when your fingers find their way into his hair. he also lets you play around with different hairstyles too! his favourite will always be a half up half down moment :p

he calls you bro more than actual pet names tbh. generally, he doesn't use a lot of pet names because he'd rather call you by your name, but when he's being extra sweet or when he's tired, he'll use them. you love how cute he is when he's about to fall asleep, he starts going on and on about how much he loves his pretty girl. "soo sweet to me, love you soo much... my lovely girl... my love" he'll whisper into your neck, not even knowing exactly what he's saying himself as his eyes slowly flutter shut. when he's in a good mood he'll greet you with a lil "hey baby" or "hello perfect beautiful girlfriend" bc he's annoying like that 😞

he can ALWAYS tell when something is wrong. a clench of your jaw or a slight falter in your eyes, he immediately knows. he'll ask about it as soon as he picks up on it. he's surprisingly very good at comforting. he'll listen as long as you need him to, he'll give you a temple kiss, a gesture that quickly became a sign of love and understanding in your relationship. he'll kiss you on one, then the other, and add "to ease your mind." and you laugh because it's corny, and he rolls his eyes and claims he's never doing a nice thing for you again, but he grabs your hand to take you out to eat because he knows food is the best comfort.

[t4kalcvr]

THE GIRL WHO MADE THE CAKE

𝐊𝐄𝐍 “𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍” 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐉𝐈 word count :: ( 10,924 ) genre :: fluffyyy, romance, pinch angst content contains :: emma and drakens situationship, takemichi’s wedding!! no we are NOT (technically) home-wrecking !!

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

the soft clang of metal echoed in the empty garage as draken leaned over the frame of a half-built bike, grease staining the curve of his wrist. it was quiet, save for the faint hiss of cooling metal and the low hum of a fan in the corner. the kind of quiet that made you think too much.

he reached for his phone without meaning to — just muscle memory by now. his fingers hovered over the screen, slow, hesitant, like they already knew what he was about to do.

emma sano.

still saved in his contacts, like she’d never left.

they hadn’t defined anything. not lately. just… late-night conversations when one of them couldn’t sleep. coffee in silence that still felt warmer than most things. accidental hand brushes that neither of them pulled away from.

draken had told himself he was fine with it. that it was enough.

but takemichi’s wedding was this weekend. and standing in a crowd of familiar faces, watching two people say forever, that felt like the kind of moment you either show up with someone you care about — or you don’t show up at all.

he exhaled through his nose and typed, thumb gliding over the screen with more weight than he’d ever admit:

“you free saturday? takemichi’s wedding. thought it might be nice to go together.”

he stared at the message.

then pressed send before he could talk himself out of it.

the screen stayed bright for a few seconds. no reply. no read receipt. nothing but that tiny, uncertain silence.

he pocketed the phone, wiped his hands off on a rag, and tried to tell himself he didn’t care either way.

he wasn’t very convincing.

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

emma was sitting on the floor of hinata’s bedroom, surrounded by bobby pins, an open makeup bag, and a half-eaten bowl of instant ramen. wedding planning had slowly taken over hinata’s apartment — shoes lined up under the window, garment bags everywhere, florals taped to the fridge.

hinata sat across from her on the floor, still in sweats, scrolling through a seating chart on her ipad. her hair was clipped up in a messy bun, and her face looked exhausted but happy — the way only brides-to-be looked.

emma’s phone buzzed once.

she picked it up without thinking, brushing a noodle off her hoodie. the message lit up the screen:

ken:

“you free saturday? takemichi’s wedding. thought it might be nice to go together.”

she stared at it.

her lips parted, but no sound came out. her thumb hovered, heart fluttering in a way it hadn’t in a long time. not since him.

he asked.

he actually asked.

a smile crept up before she could stop it. it bloomed slowly, softly — the kind of smile that lived in her eyes, not just her mouth.

she typed:

“i’d love to.”

then she let out a sharp little breath and looked up.

“hinata?”

hinata glanced up from her phone. “hm?”

“i need a dress.”

“you don’t have a dress for the rehearsal dinner?”

“no,” emma said, her smile turning sheepish. “not for that. i need a dress for your wedding.”

hinata blinked. “emma. you’re already invited.”

“i know. but… ken just asked me to go. with him.”

hinata’s eyes widened, mouth falling open. “wait—as a date?”

emma nodded, the tiniest bit flustered. “i think so? i don’t know. maybe. but… it felt different. it felt like he meant it.”

hinata squealed, nearly knocking over the ipad. “okay. okay. we’re finding you something gorgeous. like dangerous levels of gorgeous.”

emma grinned, cheeks warm. “i want something that says… ‘i might be over you, but not really.’”

“say less,” hinata said, already reaching for her laptop. “black or red?”

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

the sun was starting to set when emma stepped out of her room, heels on the hardwood floors, smoothing her hands nervously over the silk clinging to her sides.

the dress was deep red — soft and almost impossibly fluid, the way it caught the light and draped against her like it had been sewn just for her. spaghetti straps. low back. a slit that threatened mischief but kept it elegant. she had twisted her hair up into something loose and effortless, a few strands falling around her face in soft waves.

it was a little bold. a little risky.

but tonight felt like a moment that needed something brave.

she took a shaky breath and turned toward the door the second she heard the knock.

when she opened it, there was ken — standing in a dark charcoal suit, a single black ring on his finger, his hair pushed back but still messy at the edges. he looked freshly shaven, like he’d tried without trying. his tie was half loose like he couldn’t be bothered to do the final knot.

he blinked when he saw her. just stood there.

his mouth parted like he was about to say something — anything — but the words got caught somewhere in his throat. his eyes dragged from her heels all the way to the dip in her collarbone and then to her eyes, lingering there like he didn’t want to blink and miss it.

emma smiled softly, cheeks warming under his gaze.

“hi,” she said.

“…hey,” he finally breathed.

she stepped aside to let him in. he hesitated just a second before walking past her, his shoulder brushing hers lightly as he moved inside.

“you look…” he started, glancing over his shoulder, eyes lingering again.

“yeah?” she teased, heart hammering.

he nodded once. slowly. “like trouble.”

she laughed. “good.”

he stood in her apartment — clean and quiet, soft lamplight casting shadows on the walls — and watched her reach for her purse.

and just as she was slipping on her earrings, her phone started to ring.

emma froze.

the name on the screen made her heart drop to her stomach.

she picked it up, voice uncertain. “hello?”

draken watched her face carefully. her smile disappeared, but her brows pulled together in that way she always did when she was trying to calculate something fast.

“wait, now?” she asked, turning toward the kitchen counter, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she reached for her glass of water. “like, right now?”

a pause. her eyes darted toward him.

draken didn’t say anything.

she didn’t either.

just a look — long and quiet.

she wasn’t sure what she was asking for in that second.

permission? forgiveness?

he met her eyes and, without blinking, gave her the smallest nod.

go.

emma’s breath hitched, and she whispered something into the phone — she would be there. she could make it. she’d be there soon.

as soon as the call ended, she stood there for a beat, her chest rising and falling with something that wasn’t quite regret but wasn’t peace either.

“i’m so sorry,” she said quietly.

“don’t be,” he replied, voice calm. unreadable. maybe even proud.

she gave him a quick, fleeting smile — the kind you give someone who matters. someone who understands.

and then she ran.

into her room. heels off. hair falling down. fingers already undoing the zipper of her dress as she vanished behind the door.

draken stood alone in her living room, glancing once at the place where she’d just been.

when he stepped outside, mikey was already waiting near the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, dressed in a sharp black suit like some rebellious little prince.

“where’s emma?” mikey asked, swinging his head up casually.

draken didn’t look back at the building.

“work,” he said simply.

mikey didn’t press. just nodded and fell into step beside him.

and together, they walked toward the wedding.

toward something quieter. something that didn’t quite feel like loss… but didn’t feel like having her, either.

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

the ceremony had been beautiful — all soft pink florals and string lights woven through the rafters, vows that made even the toughest guys clear their throats a little too often. takemichi had cried. hinata had tried not to. everyone smiled through it.

now, the reception was in full swing.

music drifted through the venue — not too loud, just enough for the bass to ripple through the floor. glasses clinked, heels clicked against hardwood, and somewhere near the back, someone was definitely crying over the open bar.

draken stood near the edge of the room, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, a barely touched drink in hand. mikey leaned beside him, tie undone completely, hair slightly windswept from one too many fast spins with the bride on the dance floor.

they stood in companionable silence for a while, watching the people they used to ride into fights with now slow dancing and laughing like they’d never broken bones before.

“you okay?” mikey asked, not looking directly at him.

draken gave a quiet shrug. “yeah.”

mikey turned just a little. “emma?”

draken let out a breath. not quite a sigh. “she got a call. job thing. had to go.”

mikey nodded like he already knew.

“you still want it to work with her?” he asked.

draken took a long sip of whatever was in his glass before answering. “i don’t know, man. i think maybe it’s time to stop waiting.”

mikey raised a brow, clearly surprised. “you? giving up?”

“not giving up,” draken said, voice low, calm. “just… maybe i’m not meant for it. relationships. love. all that.”

mikey stared at him. “you’re not serious.”

“i am.”

“you’re gonna die old and cranky in your garage with a half-finished bike and nobody to nag you about leaving your tools everywhere?”

draken smirked. “sounds peaceful, honestly.”

but then — before mikey could push back — something shifted in the air. like the volume of the world turned down just a little. like something tugged his focus.

draken’s eyes drifted across the room.

and then he saw her.

you.

you were standing just beneath one of the overhead lights, laughing at something one of your friends said. your hand wrapped around a drink, your other gesturing mid-story. you were in a dress that wasn’t trying too hard, but the way it moved with you made it impossible not to look.

you hadn’t noticed him yet.

he took you in slowly — the way you tilted your head when you smiled, the faint line of worry in your brows when you were listening, the way you touched people gently on the arm when you spoke to them. like you meant it.

and then — as if something in the universe cracked just slightly — you looked up.

your eyes met his.

you didn’t falter. didn’t look away or shy from the weight of his stare.

you just… smiled.

slow. genuine. a little surprised, like you hadn’t expected him either, but now that he was here — maybe you weren’t in such a rush to leave.

mikey glanced over and caught the look. his smirk was immediate.

“yeah,” he said, “real peaceful.”

draken didn’t answer.

he couldn’t.

not when you were still looking at him like that.

draken didn’t move right away.

he stood there for a few moments longer, glass warm in his hand, pretending he hadn’t just felt that strange, low pull in his chest. it had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that — calm. curious. completely unbothered by the rough edges.

then, quietly, he started toward you.

you were leaning against a table near the edge of the dance floor, laughing with someone before they walked off to grab another drink. you spotted him the second he started walking over, and instead of freezing up or acting coy, you just grinned — like you were amused by the idea of it.

he stopped just a few feet away, one hand casually shoved in his pocket.

“so,” you said, arms crossed lightly, “are you here to ask me to dance?”

he looked past you at the people swaying under the lights, then back to you. “absolutely not.”

you laughed. “good. because i only dance when i’ve had at least three glasses of champagne or when there’s a serious cash prize involved.”

“you missed the cash prize round,” he said, deadpan.

you snapped your fingers. “damn. i was gonna bust out my interpretive worm.”

he couldn’t help it — he laughed. a real, low laugh, the kind that surprised even him.

you gestured to the empty chair beside you. “well, if you’re not gonna embarrass yourself on the dance floor, you might as well sit.”

he did. the chair creaked a little under his weight, and for a second, the music filled the space between you.

“so,” he asked, “you here alone?”

you took a slow sip from your glass. “define ‘alone.’ emotionally? romantically? physically?”

he smirked. “romantically.”

“yes,” you said. “i came with expectations and left them somewhere near the chicken skewers.”

he raised a brow. “tough date?”

you shrugged. “no date. just me. i figured if i was gonna cry at a wedding, i might as well look hot doing it.”

he leaned back in his chair a little. “bold move.”

“and you?” you asked. “you strike me as the type who claims he hates weddings, but still shows up looking like a half-unbuttoned heartbreak.”

he snorted. “i came with someone. she got called into work.”

you winced. “ouch.”

“yeah.”

“so, you planning to find a replacement?”

he looked at you, eyes narrowing with amusement. “why? volunteering?”

“absolutely not,” you said, smiling as you leaned your elbow on the table, chin in hand. “i mean, look at you. tattoos, slicked-back hair, that whole brooding ‘i fix motorcycles but can’t fix myself’ vibe. i definitely know better.”

his grin curled up on one side. “i wasn’t gonna ask you to come home with me.”

you lifted your glass to him in mock salute. “good. because i definitely wasn’t going to.”

“your loss,” he muttered into his drink.

you both laughed again, easy and unexpected.

then, after a pause, you tilted your head. “you know what?”

“what?”

“let’s not ruin this.”

he raised a brow. “this?”

“this,” you echoed. “this whole thing. the vibe. the not-knowing. let’s not turn it into something heavy.”

he looked at you, intrigued now.

“let’s give each other fake names,” you said. “no contact info. no social media. no ‘call me sometime.’ just tonight.”

“fake names,” he repeated, amused. “alright. what’s yours?”

you glanced up, scanning the room for anything you could steal a name from — and then, suddenly, it came to you. you looked back at him and smiled.

“sundrop.”

“…sundrop?”

you shrugged. “don’t question it. it’s got personality.”

he chuckled. “alright, sundrop.”

“and you?”

he thought about it for a second, then leaned in a little and said, “dragon.”

you stared. “seriously?”

“you picked a flower. i’m picking a beast. balance.”

you laughed, louder this time — a soft, rolling sound that made his eyes warm.

“fine, dragon,” you said. “let’s make a deal. we don’t know each other after tonight.”

“no numbers?”

“nope.”

“no goodbyes?”

“just one night. and we leave it at that.”

he clinked his glass against yours. “deal.”

and for a moment, under the fading lights of someone else’s forever, two strangers decided to exist only in the present.

no past.

no future.

just here.

just now.

the clink of your glasses still hung in the air when you leaned back in your seat, eyes bright with mischief, that sundrop smile still lingering on your lips.

“so,” you said, “what now?”

“we enjoy the night,” he replied, stretching out his legs a little. “eat, drink, mock slow dancers.”

you opened your mouth to agree, but—

“yo, draken!”

you both turned at the same time.

mikey was weaving through the tables, a plate already in his hand, the tiniest smear of red bean paste at the corner of his mouth. his suit jacket was long gone, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tie missing entirely.

“they just put out the dorayaki,” he grinned, waving the plate like it was a holy relic. “you better hurry or i’m eating yours too, draken. i swear—draken—draken, they’re still warm, bro!”

and just like that, he disappeared again into the crowd of dessert-loving guests.

you turned back to the man beside you slowly, your eyes narrowed and your smile threatening to break. “…draken?”

he held your gaze, his mouth twitching with guilt and amusement. “yep.”

“as in… your actual name is draken?”

he shrugged, palms up in surrender. “nickname, technically.”

“mikey blew your cover fast.”

“he really did.”

you tilted your head, teasing. “so what’s the damage? how much did he ruin our sacred no-names pact?”

“just the top half.”

“well, in the spirit of fairness…” you extended your hand as if meeting him for the first time. “i’m y/n.”

he shook your hand gently, still grinning. “nice to meet you, y/n.”

you nodded. “but no last names.”

“agreed.”

“i mean it,” you warned, eyes narrowed.

“same,” he said, still holding your hand for a beat too long.

you stared at each other — the champagne buzz softening the room around you, the music playing like it had been written to soundtrack this exact conversation.

“alright,” you said finally, “we adjust the rules. first names allowed. everything else? off limits.”

he smirked. “no childhood trauma dumps?”

“not unless you bring snacks.”

he chuckled, sitting back again. “deal.”

and just like that, even with names known, the moment held its magic — two almost-strangers choosing, very deliberately, to stay right here.

the band had just started a cover of something slow and vintage when you nudged draken with your elbow.

“alright,” you said, voice playful. “show me your moves.”

he glanced at you, brow raised. “moves?”

“you know,” you grinned. “how you get the girl.”

he leaned back in his chair, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth. “you asking for a demonstration?”

“i’m asking for entertainment,” you teased. “don’t tell me you’ve got nothing in your arsenal.”

he held your gaze for a beat longer, then stood up without a word. you watched as he walked straight toward the bar, that same slow, confident swagger in every step, like the world never rushed him.

he came back with a full bottle of wine under one arm and two elegant glasses swinging lazily from his fingers.

he held them up. “step one: wine.”

you laughed, standing to meet him. “classic. not bad. smooth, but safe.”

“don’t underestimate the basics,” he said, pouring two glasses like he’d done this a thousand times — and somehow made it look new.

as you took your first sip, your eyes flicked to the head table.

“you know…” you said slowly, glancing toward the bouquet resting near hinata’s seat, “we should really do the single ladies a favor.”

“how’s that?”

“we steal the bouquet,” you said with a smirk. “save them the humiliation of diving for it.”

he looked over at the head table, then at you. “you’re dangerous.”

“no,” you said, sipping your wine, “i’m fun.”

he chuckled and glanced around the room, eyes scanning for opportunity.

then he turned back to you and gave the smallest nod — “watch this.”

he stepped forward, lifted one of the wine glasses, and gently tapped the rim with his ring.

ting ting ting

“kiss! kiss! kiss!” he chanted.

you joined in, grinning. “kiss! kiss! kiss!”

within seconds, the room caught on. laughter burst out across the tables as everyone turned toward the blushing couple. takemichi looked panicked; hinata rolled her eyes affectionately and kissed him as guests whooped and clapped around them.

every head turned.

“now,” you whispered, already slipping off your heels.

you moved in sync — draken swept the bouquet under his arm with the ease of someone who’d done far riskier things in his past, and you ducked behind him as the two of you bolted down a hallway, hidden by applause and chaos.

your laughter echoed quietly in the corridor as he pushed open an unmarked door and motioned you inside.

the room was warm and still — an empty space left untouched by the reception. a grand piano sat in one corner, glossy under the soft spill of moonlight through tall, arched windows. velvet curtains swayed gently as the air shifted.

you leaned against the door, breathless. “i can’t believe that worked.”

he held up the bouquet like a prize. “still got it.”

“not bad, dragon,” you said, crossing the room barefoot as your dress swept the floor. “you’ve got moves after all.”

“just getting started,” he muttered, half to himself.

you turned to him, eyes glinting. “well then… impress me.”

he stepped closer, the wine bottle still in his hand, eyes never leaving yours.

and just like that, the game shifted.

not louder. not flashier.

but real. subtle.

the kind of move you don’t even realize is happening until your heart skips.

draken wandered over to the piano, running his fingers across the keys like he wasn’t sure if he should — and then, with a quiet smirk, he sat down and started to play.

the sound that came out wasn’t soft or romantic.

nope.

it was funky.

bouncy.

ridiculous.

you blinked once, then laughed — not because it was bad, but because it was so good and so completely unexpected from a guy like him. it sounded like something you’d hear in a 70s spy movie montage — dramatic flourishes, syncopated rhythm, total chaos.

you looked at him.

he nodded at the empty space in front of the piano bench. “your move, sundrop.”

you raised your brows. “oh, we’re doing this?”

he kept playing, clearly unbothered. “better make it count.”

you stepped into the light with the dramatic flair of someone who knew full well they had no clue what they were doing — which, to be fair, was the point.

you started with a cha-cha that somehow turned into finger guns, threw in a painfully awkward body roll, then added a full spin that almost tripped you off your feet — but you landed it with confidence like it had all been on purpose. your finale? a full-on jazz hands explosion in his face.

“ta-da!” you declared, out of breath and fully committed.

draken’s fingers stumbled on the last chord as he burst out laughing.

“wow,” he said, deadpan through a grin. “i mean… that was something.”

you put a hand on your chest. “be honest. life-changing?”

“you just invented four new dance styles and a lawsuit.”

you laughed as you flopped down next to him on the piano bench, cheeks warm and smile wide. your thighs barely touched, just a few inches of space between you and the wine bottle still rolling gently on the floor nearby.

“okay,” you admitted, catching your breath, “i have no idea how to dance.”

he turned to you slowly, brow raised. “you don’t say.”

“not even a little bit.”

“you really fooled me back there,” he said, eyes mock-wide with awe. “the part where you almost broke your ankle? inspired.”

you snorted, leaning slightly against the piano as you both laughed again — the kind of laughter that came easy and unfiltered, the kind that stayed behind in the corners of your mouth even when the moment passed.

outside, the music of the wedding pulsed faintly. but here — in this quiet little room, in a stolen piece of the night — it was just you and him.

and the tiniest, growing feeling that maybe this wasn’t just fun.

maybe this was starting to matter.

you were still catching your breath from laughing, curled sideways on the bench beside him, your knee almost brushing his. the glow from the moonlight softened the edges of everything — your hair, the curve of his shoulders, the space between you.

he glanced at you, eyes glinting. “you know, it’s kind of a shame.”

you turned your head, playful. “what is?”

“that you’re not getting some tonight.”

your jaw dropped, mock offended. “excuse me?”

he shrugged, lips curling. “just saying. a woman steals a bouquet, does jazz hands in heels, risks arrest… seems like she should get rewarded.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “i could get some tonight.”

his brow lifted. “oh?”

you leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing like you were making a point — like this was evidence in your favor. “you’re a guy.”

“correct,” he said, unblinking.

“you’re here.”

“still tracking.”

“you’re a guy i could get some from if i wanted to.”

he didn’t miss a beat. “absolutely.”

you broke into a laugh that doubled you forward, hands braced on your knees.

he grinned at your reaction, clearly proud of himself. “what, am i wrong?”

“no, it’s the way you said it! like—zero hesitation. so matter-of-fact.”

“i’m just agreeing with you,” he said, mock-innocent.

your laughter faded slowly, leaving the two of you sitting there in that in-between silence — the kind that isn’t awkward, just full.

you met his eyes again. and this time, you didn’t look away right away.

neither did he.

his expression softened — the edges of his mouth twitching slightly, like he wanted to say something else. or maybe lean in.

your heart beat louder than the music outside.

his eyes flicked down — just once. barely.

and that was your cue.

“we are not gonna kiss,” you blurted, pointing at him.

draken dropped his hand dramatically onto the piano, letting it crash into a chaotic jumble of keys.

ba-donnnng.

you burst into laughter again. “i’m serious!”

he just looked at you, eyes narrow. “why not?”

“because if we kiss,” you said, “then it becomes real. and this is not real. this is wine and a piano and fake names and me doing the interpretive worm.”

“so you’re saying… a kiss ruins it?”

“yes. because a kiss makes it mean something.”

he tilted his head slightly. “not if it’s a bad kiss.”

“you saying you’re a bad kisser?”

“not at all,” he said, leaning his elbow on the piano, watching you closely now. “but if you’re scared…”

“i’m not scared,” you snapped back, eyes narrowing.

“then what’s the problem?”

“i just don’t trust you.”

“to kiss you?”

“no,” you said dramatically, “to not use too much tongue.”

he raised both brows. “you think i’d use too much tongue?”

you pointed to his mouth. “you look like a guy who gets cocky with tongue.”

he leaned a little closer, voice low but playful. “i’ll have you know i use exactly the right amount of tongue.”

you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “okay, mathematician.”

“balanced. measured. tailored to your face.”

you laughed again — a sharp, bright sound that filled the quiet room.

your laughter faded slowly, and what remained between you wasn’t quite silence — it was breath. thick and warm and close. his knees were still turned toward you, your legs brushing just enough to notice, and the piano’s last clumsy chord still echoed somewhere in the wooden floorboards.

he was watching you — really watching you now. eyes dark but soft, like he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here, in this little forgotten room with you, but now that he was… he didn’t want to leave it.

you tilted your head slightly, biting the inside of your cheek.

then, quiet and thoughtful, you said, “how about this.”

his brow rose.

you leaned forward a little, chin propped in your hand. “the drum roll.”

he blinked once. “drum roll?”

you nodded, explaining with a little grin, like you were letting him in on a very serious secret.

“you know how every kiss has a drum roll? the part right before it happens — the lean in, the pause, that… build-up. like the universe is holding its breath?”

he nodded slowly, watching you with interest now.

“that’s the best part,” you said, voice soft but certain. “it’s better than the kiss itself, sometimes.”

he tilted his head. “so… you’re saying…”

“we stop there,” you said. “we only do the drum roll.”

“just the lead-up.”

“just the lead-up,” you echoed, smiling. “no kiss. no tongue. no consequences.”

he blinked at you again, then let out a low chuckle. “you’re something else.”

you shrugged. “you in or not?”

he didn’t answer with words.

instead, he turned slightly on the bench, slowly — deliberately — and waited for you to do the same.

you did.

and then it began — the drum roll.

you both leaned in, carefully, like something fragile was held between you. his eyes flicked to your mouth once, then back up to your eyes. your breath hitched slightly, and you felt his fan across your cheek, warm and steady.

you were so close now. so close you could see the faintest scar near his temple. so close you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. so close your knees touched fully now, no space left.

but neither of you moved the final inch.

you just… stayed there.

hovering.

breathing.

letting the weight of almost settle around you like smoke.

you closed your eyes for a beat. just to feel it.

and he didn’t pull away.

not yet.

not until a few seconds passed and the silence deepened into something warm and impossible.

then you both leaned back at the same time, slowly, like surfacing from water. and when your eyes met again, there was no teasing in them — just understanding.

you’d shared something.

something small.

but impossibly big.

no kiss.

no contact.

just the best part of it.

the drum roll.

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

“…the drum roll?” mitsuya repeated, brows raised.

draken nodded once. “yep.”

mikey looked up, blinking slowly. “that’s it?”

“that’s it.”

mikey blinked again. “you didn’t kiss her?”

“no.”

“you didn’t ask for her number?”

“nope.”

“you didn’t even find out her last name?”

“i didn’t.”

“bro,” mikey groaned, slumping even further into his bowl. “are you actually stupid or just emotionally constipated?”

“i don’t think those are mutually exclusive,” mitsuya muttered.

draken gave them both a look. “it wasn’t like that.”

“it sounds exactly like that,” mitsuya said, finally lifting his chopsticks. “you met someone who clearly made you soft in the head and the heart, and then you just let her vanish like it was some poetic side-quest.”

“it wasn’t about closing the deal,” draken said, a little quieter now. “it was—i don’t know. it was perfect. she was perfect. we just… connected. for real.”

mikey frowned. “so then why not actually do something about it?”

draken leaned forward, elbows on the table, looking at the warped reflection of his glass of water. “because we weren’t supposed to. that was the deal. one night. no names. no kiss. and it worked. we ended it before we ruined it.”

“draken,” mitsuya said slowly, like he was breaking bad news, “you already ruined it by not following up.”

“it’s not like i’ll see her again,” draken muttered, voice low. “we left it exactly how it started — like a story you don’t finish.”

the ramen shop settled into a quiet stretch.

mikey picked up his tea. mitsuya took another bite of his egg.

draken sat there, still — jaw set, shoulders stiff. until—

“…damn it.”

he shoved his hands down on the table and stood up, the stool screeching under him.

“damn it, i have to see her again.”

mikey nearly choked on his tea. “finally.”

“took you long enough,” mitsuya added, but there was a grin in his voice now.

draken ran a hand through his hair, looking half-crazed and entirely alive. “i don’t even know where to start—she said her name was sundrop.”

mikey blinked. “like the flower?”

“or a soda?” mitsuya offered.

“no idea.”

“that’s the dumbest fake name i’ve ever heard,” mikey said.

“i know,” draken muttered, already pulling his phone out. “but it’s mine now.”

and just like that, the drum roll wasn’t over.

it was just beginning again.

draken was still standing, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping his phone like it might start ringing on its own. his brows were pulled tight, mind racing.

mikey and mitsuya stared at him from the booth, both half-finished with their ramen now, interest fully redirected to the drama unfolding.

“okay, wait,” mitsuya said suddenly, sitting up straighter. “you said her real name was…”

“y/n,” draken said, nodding once. “that’s all i got. no last name. no number. no workplace. just ‘y/n’ and that stupid fake name she gave me.”

mikey furrowed his brows. “sunlight?”

“sundrop,” draken corrected, sighing like the name actually hurt now.

“sundrop,” mitsuya repeated, squinting. “that’s so unserious of her.”

“and yet here we are,” draken muttered, staring at the name in his recent calls. “i can’t stop thinking about her.”

“okay, but listen,” mitsuya said, glancing at mikey. “didn’t y/n hang out with hinata at the reception?”

mikey blinked. “wait. yeah. they were definitely talking by the photo wall.”

“boom,” mitsuya said, gesturing with both hands. “there’s your link.”

“hinata,” draken echoed, eyes lighting up. “hinata would know who she is.”

there was a pause.

and then mikey frowned.

“…they’re on their honeymoon, bro.”

draken’s hand froze mid-dial.

“they just left for two weeks,” mikey continued, now slurping noodles again. “remember? takemichi said something about beaches and zero cell service. and ‘not even god is allowed to call us.’ direct quote.”

mitsuya nodded. “you should definitely wait until they’re back.”

draken slowly set the phone face down on the table. “…yeah. yeah, i’ll wait.”

a pause.

“you’re calling her right now, aren’t you?” mikey said flatly.

“yeah i’m calling her right now,” draken said, flipping the phone over again.

“don’t do it!” mikey exclaimed, pointing at him with his chopsticks. “don’t ruin their honeymoon!”

“you think she’s actually gonna answer?” mitsuya added, mouth half-full. “what’s your plan? leave a desperate voicemail?”

draken didn’t answer — just scrolled through his contacts like a man possessed.

mikey groaned and dropped his forehead dramatically into his bowl. “you’re the worst. they’re probably on a boat somewhere.”

“just one question,” draken muttered, holding the phone to his ear.

“draken—” mitsuya started.

“—and i swear i’ll be respectful—”

as the line started to ring, mikey leaned over to whisper urgently, “ask her about the cake.”

draken blinked. “what?”

“ask her where they got the cake,” mikey repeated, deadly serious. “it was so soft. like clouds. and the frosting wasn’t even too sweet.”

mitsuya nodded solemnly. “respectfully, i second this.”

draken rolled his eyes — but the smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

he wasn’t calling for the cake.

he was calling for her.

the line rang once.

twice.

a third time—

“hello?” a familiar voice chirped.

draken’s eyes widened. “…hinata?”

“draken?” she replied, equal parts surprised and suspicious.

he cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound casual. “heyyy hinata.”

mikey and mitsuya were already mouthing what is he doing? from the booth.

“i just—uh—wanted to say the wedding was so beautiful,” draken said, pacing in a slow circle now. “like… stunning. perfect weather. great venue. amazing speeches. and that dress? you? radiant.”

there was a pause.

“thank you…?” hinata replied slowly.

“also! how’s the honeymoon?” he asked quickly.

but before she could even open her mouth, draken steamrolled ahead.

“so i kinda met this girl at the reception and i was wondering if—”

“ohhh you have got to be kidding me!” hinata exploded.

“here we go,” takemichi’s voice groaned in the background.

“draken, twenty-four hours ago, you were inviting emma to the wedding—like, making a whole scene in the kitchen about how it’s ‘important’ and ‘we’re figuring things out’—and now you’re just suddenly over her?!”

draken winced. “i’ve… moved on?”

hinata let out a long, dramatic sigh — one that probably echoed across the entire island they were honeymooning on.

“what’s her name,” hinata asked finally. “and if it’s my fat cousin kaski, don’t lie. she has beautiful eyes and a killer personality.”

“it’s not kaski,” draken muttered quickly. “her name was y/n.”

“full name?”

“…just y/n.”

another pause. and then—

“well,” hinata said brightly, “you’re in luck!”

draken’s spine straightened. “really?”

“yep! lucky for you, i have my guest list memorized forwards and backwards.”

mikey gave a triumphant thumbs-up from his seat. mitsuya mouthed clutch.

draken exhaled, shoulders dropping. “thank god. i thought—”

“unlucky for you,” hinata cut in, her tone shifting instantly, “there was no ‘y/n’ on my guest list.”

draken froze. “…wait, what?”

“no y/n,” she repeated. “no y-n. no y period n period. no guest nicknamed sundrop. nada. zip.”

“what? that can’t be—”

“draken,” hinata said flatly, “i love you, but we’re on a boat. and takemichi just figured out how sunscreen works. goodbye.”

click.

the line went dead.

draken stood there for a full five seconds, phone still to his ear.

the silence in the ramen shop was deafening.

“…so?” mitsuya asked finally.

draken slowly turned back toward them, stunned.

“she wasn’t on the guest list,” he muttered.

mikey blinked. “you got ghosted by a phantom guest.”

draken dropped into the booth again, hands on his head.

“she’s not real,” he whispered.

mitsuya handed him the bottle of soy sauce like it was a shot of whiskey.

mikey leaned in, totally unfazed. “…did she say anything about the cake?”

“she wasn’t on the guest list,” draken repeated, still stunned, still reeling.

“so she crashed the wedding,” mitsuya said, piecing it together out loud.

“ohh,” mikey said, grinning now. “she’s good. she’s very good.”

mitsuya leaned back in the booth, nodding slowly. “maybe… maybe she gave a second fake name. like, for the rsvp.”

“a decoy fake name,” mikey said, eyes wide with admiration. “damn. she’s a pro.”

“i told you she was impressive,” draken muttered.

mitsuya, eyes suddenly distant, shifted gears again. “wait. what if… she didn’t want to kiss you because she was… a ghost.”

mikey sat up. “wait, yeah! and if you’d kissed her, your lips would’ve gone right through her and it would’ve felt really cold for a second!”

he slapped the table once. “yo. that’d make such a good screenplay.”

draken blinked at both of them. “guys.”

“she only appears under moonlight,” mitsuya added seriously. “only after bouquet tosses and ill-advised wine heists—”

“guys,” draken said louder, waving his hands. “she’s not a ghost.”

“you sure?” mikey asked, resting his chin in his hand.

“yeah. because she picked up the bouquet. solid object interaction. corporeal form. this isn’t ‘sixth sense,’ man.” mitsuya joked.

draken face-palmed.

“wait,” mitsuya said suddenly, sitting forward. “she was sitting across a few bridesmaids during the speeches, wasn’t she?”

“yeah!” draken snapped his fingers. “she was!”

mikey leaned back again. “okay, cool, cool — and how exactly are we supposed to get in touch with any of them?”

there was a pause.

draken looked at his phone.

then he grinned.

“i’m calling hakkai.”

mitsuya’s eyes widened. “you think—?”

“his brother definitely hooked up with one of the bridesmaids,” draken said, already dialing. “maybe she knows who y/n is.”

“that’s such a weird chain of people,” mikey muttered.

the line rang twice before hakkai answered, voice groggy and suspicious.

“…hello?”

“hakkai,” draken said, no time for pleasantries. “your brother hooked up with one of the bridesmaids, right?”

there was a beat of silence.

“…draken, what the hell—”

“i just need her number,” he said quickly. “i’m trying to find someone who might not even exist.”

“uh, no? i’m not getting involved with whatever bizarre scavenger hunt this is,” hakkai said immediately.

draken groaned. “come on.”

“hakkai,” mitsuya said suddenly, grabbing the phone and flipping the switch. “it’s me. listen. it’s romantic. it’s tragic. it’s maybe fate. you want to be the guy who stood in the way of that?”

silence.

then a sigh.

“…give me five minutes. if this girl blocks me, i’m blaming you.”

“deal,” mitsuya said, grinning as he handed the phone back to draken.

mikey blinked. “did you just romance-speech hakkai?”

“it works,” mitsuya shrugged. “i’m terrifying when i’m heartfelt.”

draken stared at the phone like it might unlock all the answers in the world.

and for the first time in hours…

he actually had a lead.

the phone was now on speaker, lying flat on the table between draken, mitsuya, and mikey — all leaning in like detectives on the edge of a breakthrough. on the other end, hakkai’s voice sounded deeply unamused.

“okay,” hakkai sighed. “she’s on the line. but i need more than ‘mysterious girl with a pretty face and a fake name.’ does anyone remember anything else about her?”

“what was she wearing?” the bridesmaid’s voice crackled faintly through the speaker.

hakkai repeated the question. “draken. clothes. anything stick?”

mikey scoffed. “he’s a guy. no way he can even remember her shoes.”

“actually,” draken said, sitting up straighter, “i do.”

mitsuya and mikey blinked in unison.

“wait, seriously?” mikey asked.

“yeah. they were silver — strappy, but with that thin heel, and glittery. like… obnoxiously glittery.”

mitsuya nodded, impressed. “okay cinderella detail, go on.”

“when we left the reception room,” draken said, leaning forward slightly, “i asked her, like, what’s the first thing she wanted to do after the wedding ended. and she said…”

he grinned a little at the memory.

“…she said, ‘take off these damn shoes,’ handed them to me, and then did a full cartwheel across the courtyard. like — no warning. just boom.”

there was a stunned pause.

mikey looked like he’d just seen god. “…you watched a woman do a cartwheel in a formal gown and didn’t immediately propose?”

hakkai’s voice came back, dry. “i relayed the info.”

from the other end, the bridesmaid’s voice lit up. “awww, that’s kind of adorable. they sound cute.”

“yep,” hakkai said, with all the energy of a man in hour seven of being emotionally held hostage. “real fairytale stuff.”

“does that ring any bells?” he asked, hopefully.

a beat.

then:

“nope! sorry,” the bridesmaid said. “but hey — you trying to hook up?”

hakkai deadpanned, “wrong brother,” and immediately hung up.

the line clicked off.

a long silence followed in the ramen shop.

draken leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temples.

“well, that’s that.”

“we tried,” mitsuya said with a sigh.

“you guys owe me,” hakkai’s voice came through one final time — a text, not a call.

mitsuya raised his soda in solemn respect. “legend.”

mikey, still clearly focused on the cartwheel part, muttered, “if i don’t get that at my wedding, i’m not signing the papers.”

draken slumped deeper into the booth.

back to square one.

the silence after hakkai’s hang-up sat heavy over the booth.

draken leaned back, arms crossed, staring at the condensation running down his glass of water like it held answers. mitsuya sipped slowly from his soda. mikey twirled his noodles with exaggerated effort, clearly unbothered by the existential crisis unfolding next to him.

after a few quiet beats, mitsuya finally said, “hey. don’t lose hope.”

draken didn’t answer.

“she could’ve been staying at the hotel where the wedding was, right?” mitsuya offered, voice calm but hopeful. “we could call them. ask if anyone checked in under the name y/n. or maybe just ‘y’ or ‘n.’”

draken raised an eyebrow.

mikey slurped loudly. “or sundrop.”

both mitsuya and draken turned to look at him.

mikey froze, chopsticks in mid-air. “…okay, maybe not sundrop.”

draken shook his head and exhaled, leaning forward with both arms on the table.

“you know what?” he said, voice steady now — not defeated, but resolved. “this is fate.”

mitsuya frowned. “what?”

“i was never supposed to see this girl again,” draken said. “that was the whole point of the night. no names. no contact. no kiss. just that one perfect moment.”

he reached for his drink and stared down at the swirling ice.

“and maybe this is the universe keeping it clean. keeping it beautiful. maybe i’m just being saved from myself.”

mikey blinked. “you being serious right now?”

“dead serious,” draken muttered. “i mean, we’ve wasted half our ramen. it’s cold now.”

“so we just let her go?” mitsuya asked, still not convinced.

“we let her go,” draken said, nodding. “and we don’t talk about her again.”

mikey raised his bowl. “to wasting food and emotional suppression.”

“cheers,” draken said dryly.

the three of them dug into their mostly-forgotten bowls. the clinking of chopsticks replaced the chaos of a few moments ago.

but even as he ate, even as he told himself it was done, draken knew one thing for sure.

he was not done.

not by a long shot.

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

evening settled over the sano house like a blanket — quiet, soft, almost too still.

mikey had just dropped face-first onto his bed, stomach full of ramen, brain full of half-formed theories about cartwheels, ghosts, and unexplainable connections. he was drifting between consciousness and a very necessary nap when—

knock knock.

his eyes cracked open.

“…what,” he groaned toward the door.

“it’s me,” came emma’s voice on the other side.

he rolled over and forced himself up, still groggy, then padded across the room and opened it.

emma stood there, already halfway through pulling her cardigan sleeves down, looking a little flushed but smiling.

“what do you want?” he asked, rubbing one eye.

“just came to tell you something,” she said. “i got the job.”

his eyes lit up a little despite himself. “oh shoot. really?”

“mmhm.”

he leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “look at you. big boss manager lady.”

emma laughed lightly. “it’s not that big of a deal.”

“no, it is,” he said honestly. “that’s huge.”

her smile faltered a little — just a flicker — and she glanced down at her hands. “i still feel bad, though. for flaking on draken. right before the wedding.”

mikey tilted his head. “don’t.”

“i told him i’d go and then didn’t,” she said softly. “he didn’t say anything, but… i still feel like i let him down.”

mikey took a deep breath and stepped back, motioning for her to come in.

“you didn’t,” he said. “and actually… you’re not even ready for this.”

“what do you mean?”

he flopped onto his bed again, head propped on a pillow, one arm behind it. “i’m about to tell you the wildest story. sit.”

she did — crossing her legs at the foot of his bed, eyebrows knit.

“so,” mikey began, “in fact… you flaking might’ve been the best thing that could’ve happened to him.”

and then he told her everything.

from draken getting stood up at the wedding entrance

to the silky dress

to the bouquet heist

to the drum roll

to the ramen shop

to the ghost theory

to hakkai’s wrong-brother hookup connection

to the cartwheel

to the dead end.

he told it with his usual dramatic flair, hands moving with every name drop, every twist, every dumb decision.

by the time he finished, emma’s expression had gone completely still.

“…and so now,” mikey said, “he’s pretending it’s fate, but we all know he’s lying to himself. dude’s down bad.”

emma didn’t say anything.

she just kept staring at him — not shocked, not confused — but something else.

heartbroken.

“…what?” mikey asked finally, sitting up.

her voice was barely above a whisper.

“i know who she is.”

mikey sat up straighter, eyebrows pulled together.

“wait, how do you know who she is? you weren’t even at the wedding!”

emma looked down for a second, then lifted her eyes again, steady this time.

“actually…” she said quietly, “i kinda was.”

“what?”

“i didn’t plan to be,” she started. “i had my interview that afternoon, and once it ended, i was feeling so good — so excited. and i just… i don’t know. i wanted to tell draken in person. to surprise him. so i went to the reception.”

mikey blinked.

“i got there late, right after the ceremony ended. no one noticed me sneak in. and that’s when i saw them.”

she paused, and mikey saw her swallow — like the memory still stung.

“they were in this side room. not completely closed off, but kinda hidden. there was a piano. and they were sitting there. on the bench. really close. laughing.”

she looked away.

“and it hit me. like, actually hit me. how he was looking at her.”

mikey sat there, stunned.

“so i ducked out and went to the bathroom. ladies’ room near the back hallway.”

emma’s voice got quieter, breathier now, almost like she was back there again.

“i went into the last stall. sat down. and just started sobbing. quietly at first. and then full-on snot-level crying. like… embarrassing.”

she gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “i kept whispering, ‘oh, damn it. come on. stop it. stop it. what the hell are you doing?’”

“it wasn’t even technically anything. not a kiss. not a confession. but it felt like something. and it made me feel so stupid.”

mikey’s face softened. he didn’t say anything.

emma wiped under her eyes again, even now.

“i’m still sitting there blowing my nose into cheap toilet paper when i hear this voice.”

she straightened a little. “‘hello? you okay in there?’”

mikey raised his brows.

“i panicked,” emma said. “so i went, ‘uhhh… yeah! i’m fine! um… just allergies or something!’”

and then she smiled, a little — but it was fragile.

“i looked down. and i saw her shoes under the stall door.”

mikey froze. “the shoes?”

emma nodded. “silver. strappy. thin-heeled. obnoxiously glittery.”

mikey blinked again, piecing it together.

“i was still crying,” she continued. “and she goes, ‘listen… do you wanna come and cry out here? i’ve been told i’m an excellent hugger.’”

“you’re kidding,” mikey muttered.

“i said no thanks. told her i don’t cry in front of people. or at all. but then i blew my nose again and said, ‘oh man, this is so gross. does everyone snot up this much when they cry?’”

emma laughed softly. “and she goes, ‘hey, you’re speaking to a fellow snotter!’”

that part made mikey laugh too — just a little.

“she was funny. and nice. and she wasn’t trying to pry.”

emma’s face sobered again.

“but then… she asked me. ‘so why ya crying?’”

silence filled the room like heavy fog.

mikey sat back, arms crossed, eyes still locked on his sister.

then he nodded once and said, deadpan:

“because you have feelings for draken.”

emma stared at the floor, arms folded over her chest.

“i don’t know,” she said softly. “maybe?”

mikey’s jaw dropped. his arms shot out like he was trying to stop invisible traffic.

“okay, what is wrong with the two of you!? seriously?!!”

emma blinked, startled.

“you like him! he likes you! just be together already!” mikey threw his arms up again, spinning in a tiny circle. “jeez louise, happiness is not that difficult!”

“oh, listen,” emma said, getting to her feet now, flustered. “yes, i cried in the bathroom. and yes, that was weird!”

she began gesturing wildly. “but that doesn’t mean i’m in love with the guy!”

“really?” mikey shot back.

“yes! the fact is, i don’t know how i feel!”

mikey stepped forward, pointing dramatically. “yes, you do!”

emma stopped mid-motion.

“seeing him with someone else and crying about it? guess what?! that’s how you feel! that is nothing but how you feel!”

the room went still.

they stood across from each other — both breathing a little heavier now, the tension having finally caught up with them.

emma swallowed.

“okay, fine,” she snapped. “i have feelings for him. happy?!”

mikey grinned. “kind of, yeah.”

emma rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. she let out a long, frustrated breath.

“but it doesn’t change anything,” she said, calmer now, quieter. “i still want commitment. and he’s still draken.”

mikey’s smile faded just slightly. “yeah…”

emma turned to the door, but stopped herself. she took a deep breath.

“what i should do is tell him who victoria is. so he can be happy.”

mikey threw up his hands again. “or you could tell him you’re into him, and then you could both be happy!”

they locked eyes again — less heated now, but still intense. the kind of silence that isn’t uncomfortable… just waiting.

then emma nodded, almost to herself.

“i’m gonna go find him.”

she turned toward the hallway, steps already picking up pace—

“wait.”

she stopped in the doorway.

turned back.

mikey tilted his head. “which one are you gonna tell him?”

emma looked down at the floor.

at her hands.

at the door again.

“…i have no idea.”

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

the ramen shop buzzed with soft noise — the clink of chopsticks, the steady slurp of noodles, laughter bubbling up from booth to booth.

in the back corner sat draken, mitsuya, and nahoya, crammed into their usual booth, the remains of their meal scattered in front of them. nahoya was halfway through reenacting some wild interaction from earlier that day — something about a lady with a parrot in her bag yelling at a vending machine — and both draken and mitsuya were laughing hard enough that nahoya had to pause to wipe his eyes.

“bro, she threw a can of ginger ale at me like it owed her money!” nahoya wheezed.

“i swear, you live in a sitcom,” mitsuya said, shaking his head.

draken was just about to wipe his mouth when the bell above the door jingled.

“hey guys,” came a voice.

they all turned to see emma standing in the entrance, a little hesitant but wearing a half-smile.

“emma,” nahoya grinned. “yo.”

“hey,” mitsuya greeted warmly.

draken straightened, surprised but glad. “hey.”

emma shifted slightly, eyes flicking toward him. “um, hey draken. can i talk to you outside for a second?”

draken blinked. “uh—yeah, sure.”

he stood, wiping his hands on a napkin as he cleared his throat. “what’s up?”

but just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

emma opened her mouth again. “i have to tell you something.”

he glanced down at the screen. “um…?”

emma nodded, understanding. “go ahead. pick it up.”

draken answered and held the phone to his ear. “hello?”

“draken, it’s me. takemichi.”

draken smiled faintly. “yo.”

“my lovely bride would like to say something to you,” takemichi added with a chuckle, before handing the phone off.

“draaaakeeeeen,” came hinata’s voice, dripping in sarcasm.

he could already hear airport chaos in the background.

“i’m sorry i hung up on you earlier,” she slurred just slightly, “but my new husband and this vodka cranberry, which by the way cost ten dollars and fifty cents at the airport bar,” — a pause as she shouted in the distance — “when is this plane going to board?!”

a faint, calming “sweet pea” from takemichi followed, trying to gently reel her back.

hinata cleared her throat. “anyway. i realized that sometimes i can act like a crazy person. and i don’t want my new husband thinking i’m a crazy person.”

draken chuckled. “it’s fine, hinata. seriously. don’t worry about it.”

in the booth, mitsuya gestured wildly, pantomiming eating — shoveling invisible forkfuls into his mouth.

“oh,” draken added into the phone, “and the guys were wondering where you got that cake.”

“cake?” hinata asked, confused for a second.

but behind him, emma had gone still.

the noise faded into a dull hum around her as a memory resurfaced — sudden and vivid.

she was in the bathroom stall, sniffling, red-eyed and emotionally wrecked. and then came that soft voice:

“why don’t you take this?”

a bouquet slid under the stall wall.

emma blinked, reached down, and pulled it toward her.

“sounds like you could use it,” the girl had said from the other side.

emma’s voice had cracked. “thank you. you’re very sweet.”

and then: “so are you a friend of the bride or groom?”

a pause.

“actually… neither.”

emma’s heart picked up as the flash faded and she blinked back into the present.

on the other end of the phone, hinata finally answered draken’s question.

“we got it from this bakery downtown,” she said. “it’s called—”

“sundrop sweets,” emma whispered.

draken’s head turned sharply toward her, stunned.

“sundrop sweets,” hinata repeated. “you should go there sometime. amazing frosting.”

draken’s hand slowly lowered the phone from his ear, hanging up without another word.

his eyes widened as it clicked.

he turned to mitsuya, voice low but electric with realization.

“she made the cake.”

draken was pacing now, eyes wild, voice climbing in pitch.

“she wasn’t on the guest list because she wasn’t a guest!!” he turned to mitsuya, pointing like a man possessed. “she made the cake!”

mitsuya blinked hard, like something in his soul had just clicked.

“she made that cake.” he stood slowly. “draken. this is the girl.”

draken stared at him.

“you gotta marry her. today.”

“what—?”

“no, listen to me,” mitsuya said, suddenly intense, gripping draken’s shoulders. “she’s gotta move in with us. do you understand me? this woman bakes.”

“i’m going down to that bakery,” draken declared, spinning on his heel, already halfway out the booth.

but mikey jumped up, grabbing him by the arm and whipping him back around. “no no no. don’t do it!”

mitsuya’s voice shot up an octave. “what are you talking about?!”

draken pointed at mikey, arms flailing now. “yeah! all day long you’ve been busting my apple bag about finding this girl!”

“i know, i know!” mikey said, sweating. “but maybe she’s just… not that into you.”

draken’s expression froze.

mikey hesitated, then added, eyes darting to emma, “and… and maybe that’s why she didn’t give you her number.”

he turned, slowly, dramatically.

“emma? care to chime in with anything?”

all eyes on her.

emma stood frozen, eyes locked with draken’s.

“…yes, draken.”

everyone held their breath.

emma exhaled, quietly but firmly.

“go get her.”

draken’s face lit up like a firework. “going!! getting!!!”

he rushed toward the door—only for nahoya to dramatically slide in front of him like a basketball defense move.

“oh my gosh i love this moment!” nahoya said, giddy, bouncing on his heels. “you know why? because i’m gonna say it. and this time, you’re gonna say yes.”

draken blinked. “nahoya not now—”

“ready?” nahoya rubbed his hands together. “are ya ready to say yes??”

he took a deep, theatrical breath.

“draken… it’s time to get a perm.”

draken, adrenaline pumping, fist in the air: “YES!!”

nahoya threw his arms up in triumph.

then draken paused. blinked.

“…no.”

“oh come on!!” nahoya whined, tossing a napkin at him.

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

the city glided past the windows in a blur of neon and brake lights, muted under the low hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle of a ramen wrapper in the backseat.

draken sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed out the window, but he wasn’t seeing anything out there.

he was seeing her.

the piano room had faded behind them, and they stepped back into the reception hall.

it was empty.

no lights strung up. no laughing voices. no cake crumbs on plates.

just silence and the leftover sparkle of a party that had already come and gone.

“guess we were gone a while,” she said, glancing around.

draken chuckled. “did we miss the entire party?”

“entire,” she confirmed.

they both laughed, quietly — not the big kind, but the soft, breathy kind that stays with you.

and then she pouted, just a little.

“kinda wanted one dance.”

draken looked at her.

then held out a hand.

“then let’s dance.”

they moved together slowly, no music, just the hush of the empty room.

his hands were steady. hers were light on his shoulders.

her dress rustled gently when she swayed.

it was the kind of dance that made time feel embarrassed for ever trying to pass.

“sundrop sweets! this is it.”

mikey’s voice pulled draken sharply out of his head.

they pulled up to a little corner bakery, pastel-painted and glowing from the inside like it had its own sun.

mitsuya leaned forward, giving draken a firm pat on the shoulder. “good luck, dude. grab me a cupcake.”

draken didn’t move.

he just sat there, fingers tapping against his knee, staring at the front doors like he wasn’t sure what he’d see on the other side — or if he even deserved to see it.

“draken?” nahoya said carefully. “you still with us?”

their dance slowed to a stop.

they looked at each other.

and leaned in.

but just before their lips met, she pulled away — not cold, not apologetic, just… gentle.

a breath away from something real.

“there’s one flaw with tonight,” draken had said, his voice low.

she looked up at him. “what?”

he smiled softly. “i’m gonna have to feel the pain of seeing you walk out the door.”

she tilted her head. thought for a moment. then reached up and touched his chest lightly.

“then don’t watch me go.”

he blinked.

“close your eyes,” she said. “and count to five.”

he hesitated.

but did it anyway.

“one…”

“two…”

“three…”

he could hear her breathing.

“four…”

and then—

“five.”

he opened his eyes.

she was gone.

draken still hadn’t moved.

the guys were quiet now — even mikey — watching him carefully like the wrong word might tip him over.

he stared at the glowing bakery sign ahead.

sundrop sweets.

his jaw was tight. eyes stormy.

“maybe we both need that,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

mikey turned slightly. “need what?”

“this,” draken said softly, nodding toward the bakery. “to stay exactly what it is. a perfect night. no real names. no regrets.”

mitsuya blinked slowly. nahoya was chewing his gum like it was making him nervous.

draken exhaled, long and heavy.

“i mean, so many things go wrong in life. you plan, you build, you fight for things—” he looked down at his hands. “and still, it all falls apart.”

silence.

“but this… this is the one thing that never will.”

his voice dropped, like he was afraid to jinx it.

“it’ll always, always be pure, unadulterated, awesome.”

he turned toward the window, not quite looking in yet.

“if i walk in there,” he said slowly, “i’m robbing both of us of what could be. of what stayed perfect.”

nahoya squinted, leaned forward between the seats.

“dude, the meter’s running,” he said flatly. “crap or get off the pot.”

draken snapped his head around. “what?”

“i’m serious. i will not pay a dime over this.”

“yeah, yeah, i’m going,” draken muttered, pushing open the door.

the city air hit him first — cool, sharp, stirring the ends of his jacket.

he took a deep breath.

then turned toward the bakery.

he slowed as he walked past the big front window.

and there she was.

behind the glass, under warm lights and surrounded by colors and sugar and laughter he couldn’t hear — she was frosting cupcakes.

a small tray balanced on her arm. her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. she was smoothing the top of a swirl, the back of her hand dotted with flour.

she looked so real.

so un-magical in the most magical way.

no red dress. no fancy lights. no soft music playing.

just her. still that girl. but here, in the world, in her element.

his heart thudded.

draken opened the bakery door.

the bell above it chimed, light and bright.

cold air curled in behind him.

and the scent hit him hard — frosting, sugar, maybe a little almond. something citrusy. vanilla in the walls.

his boots touched tile, and everything in him stopped moving.

but in front of him, she didn’t look up yet.

she was still frosting, lost in the rhythm.

just as he’d been, not long ago, lost in the memory.

(..◜ᴗ◝..)

you finish smoothing the last swirl of frosting with a careful flick of your wrist, setting the cupcake down in the display tray with a quiet satisfaction.

your fingers are still a little sticky with sugar when the doorbell chimes.

you don’t look up right away — the sound of the bell is familiar, background noise most days — but something feels different this time.

heavier.

weighted.

you glance toward the door.

and there he is.

standing just inside the shop, like he doesn’t know what to do next.

hair a little messier. jacket half-zipped. eyes locked on you like you’re the only real thing in the room.

your breath catches.

your heart flips over.

and before you even realize you’re moving—

“oh thank god,” you say, voice breathless with relief.

and then you run.

you round the counter without hesitation and close the distance between you and draken like you’ve been waiting forever.

his arms barely open before you crash into him — arms wrapping tight around his neck, face tilted up, and your lips meet his in a kiss that feels like catching up on everything you lost the second you let go that night.

he kisses you back instantly.

it’s not delicate. it’s not rehearsed. it’s not even perfect.

but it’s real.

and it tastes like sugar.

and you never, not for one second, want to pull away.

his hands settle on your waist, grounding you.

you don’t speak. you don’t need to.

the kiss says it all — the missed chances, the “what ifs,” the five-second countdown, and every second since.

when you finally part, it’s just an inch — just enough to breathe the same air and rest your forehead against his.

you smile. he does too.

and outside the bakery window…

“WHOOOOO!!!”

nahoya’s face is pressed to the glass like a kid in a candy store — fittingly.

mikey’s hands are cupped around his eyes as he leans in, squinting. “they’re kissing!! they’re literally kissing right now!!”

mitsuya is behind them, grinning from ear to ear, arms in the air like he just scored a goal.

“HE FOUND HER!! BAKER GIRL IS REAL!!!”

a passerby slows down, staring at the spectacle.

“are they okay?” someone mumbles.

“NO,” nahoya shouts through the glass. “THEY’RE IN LOVE!!”

inside, draken groans softly, his forehead still resting against yours.

“i swear,” he mutters, lips brushing your temple, “they follow me everywhere.”

you laugh.

and suddenly — this moment, this shop, this chaos — ends the most perfect night you’ve ever had.

copyright © t4kalcvr 2025 all rights reserved

💬, this came directly out of how i met your mother season 1 episode 13 😭😭 i absolutely love this episode !!! ANYWAYS ENJOYYYY HUNNIESSSS !!!

ko-fi 🎧

look here for your next read 📚!

permanent 🔖 : @sukunasrealgf @sinamew

[snnowwpheenix]

Tokyo Revengers characters witnessing their sons being protective over their baby sisters

🐉 Draken

Draken was cleaning his bike when he heard his son sternly say, “No touching her hair, Kenta. Only I can braid it.” Peeking around the corner, Draken saw his five-year-old son gently fixing his baby sister’s pigtails. “She’s my princess,” the boy declared. Draken chuckled, pride swelling in his chest. “Good man,” he whispered.

👑 Mikey

Mikey found his son standing in front of the crib like a soldier on duty. “No monsters allowed near my sister,” he whispered fiercely to the dark hallway. Mikey, munching on a taiyaki, smirked. “Looks like the protector of the new era’s already here.” He patted his son’s head. “Don’t let the monsters get her, soldier.”

🕊️ Takemichi

When a visiting toddler tried to take his baby sister’s rattle, Takemichi’s son snatched it back. “No! That’s hers!” Takemichi blinked in surprise. “Whoa… didn’t know you had it in you.” His son turned and hugged his sister. “She’s little. I gotta protect her like you do, Daddy.” Takemichi wiped a tear. “Proud doesn’t even cut it.”

🐥 Chifuyu

Chifuyu overheard his son arguing with a classmate during a playdate. “You can’t call my sister weird! She’s a genius baby!” Later, his son asked, “Was I too harsh?” Chifuyu laughed, ruffling his son’s hair. “Nah, you were just right. Always stand up for her.”

🐺 Baji

When the baby started crying, Baji’s son bolted into the room, arms open. “Who hurt you?! I’ll bite ‘em!” Baji nearly choked on his drink laughing. “She probably farted, buddy.” His son frowned. “Still. If someone hurt her, they’re toast.”

🧵 Mitsuya

His son was trying to tie a bow on his baby sister’s dress, tongue sticking out in focus. “She’s gonna be the prettiest. No one’s allowed to tease her at school ever.” Mitsuya smiled warmly, already snapping a picture. “She’s lucky to have you, little designer.”

😈 Smiley

Smiley caught his son glaring at a boy at the park. “Don’t talk to her unless you brought snacks.” Smiley laughed from the bench. “Damn, he’s already screening her suitors.” He gave his son a thumbs-up. “Daddy’s proud.”

😢 Angry

Angry’s son clutched his sister close when the thunder cracked. “I won’t let the boom get you. I’m strong like Daddy.” Angry’s eyes welled up. “You’re stronger than you think, kiddo.”

💪 Taiju

His son stood beside the crib with arms crossed. “No one touches her unless they pray first.” Taiju raised a brow, trying not to laugh. “Amen to that,” he muttered, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’re doing God’s work, son.”

🧍‍♂️ Hakkai

He saw his son gently putting mittens on the baby. “She might get cold. I read babies lose heat fast.” Hakkai smiled, hugging him from behind. “Such a good big brother.” His son blushed. “She’s my treasure, after all.”

🧠 Kisaki

Kisaki walked in on his son pacing the room, muttering, “Okay, if someone bullies her in daycare, I’ll file a report. Or… maybe I can frame them…” “…Whoa there, little tactician.” Kisaki snorted, genuinely amused. “Maybe dial back the evil genius by 30%.”

😈 Hanma

Hanma’s son pushed a toy away from the baby, scowling. “That bear had weird eyes. I don’t trust it.” Hanma cackled. “You’re paranoid like me! I love it.” “Paranoid means I’m careful, right?” “Exactly, lil’ menace.”

👑 Rin (Rindou)

Rin was surprised when his son snatched his phone. “No pictures unless she says okay! She’s not a doll!” “…She can’t talk yet.” “She still deserves respect.” Rindou blinked. “Damn. Okay, woke king.”

🌺 Ran

Ran’s son had wrapped his sister in four layers of blankets. “She’s fragile, okay?” “She’s sweating.” “Still. Better hot than hurt.” Ran laughed, taking a picture. “You really are too much like me.”

🖤 Kakucho

Kakucho watched as his son carefully guarded the stroller while they were out. “Dad, walk on the street side. I got her back.” Kakucho smiled, heart full. “You’re already a better man than most.”

🐾 Inupi

Inupi’s son carefully placed his jacket over his baby sister. “Her arms are cold, and I’m fine without it.” Inupi crouched beside him, brushing the boy’s bangs. “She’s lucky to have you. Just like I was lucky to have someone who protected me.”

💰 Koko

Koko found his son counting coins. “What are you doing?” “Saving up to buy her bodyguards when she’s older.” Koko burst out laughing. “Ambitious.” “She’s a princess, Dad. She needs security.” Koko grinned. “Spoken like a true Koko Jr.”

👑 Izana

Izana walked into the nursery, finding his son standing beside the crib, holding a plastic sword. “What are you doing?” Izana asked, amused. His son didn’t take his eyes off the baby. “Guard duty. I’m the knight. She’s the princess.” Izana chuckled, kneeling beside him. “She’s safe with you, huh?” His son nodded fiercely. “I’d fight dragons if I had to.” Izana tousled his hair. “You’re already more noble than half the world.”

🐯 Kazutora

Kazutora watched quietly from the hallway as his son scolded a family friend’s kid. “Don’t yank her toy! She’s just a baby! You wanna cry like one too?” The kid backed off fast. Kazutora grinned, then pulled his son aside. “Hey, you okay?” His son huffed, “She’s tiny. People can’t just mess with her.” Kazutora kneeled down, heart soft. “You’re strong… but the way you protect her? That’s the strongest I’ve ever seen you.” His son blinked, a little bashful now. “She’s all I’ve got. I gotta keep her safe.” Kazutora smiled gently. “I know that feeling.”

[emjiroki]

Persuasion

Manjiro Sano x Reader

Warnings: explicit scenes and language, breeding, creampie

A/N: hi everyone! Thank you so much for tuning in to my first kinktober post! Hope everyone enjoys and happy spooky season to all my lovely mutuals and followers

Likes,comments,and reblogs treasured like gold

Ever since Draken and Emma had their baby Manjiro had not stopped mentioning it.

"We'd make a cute baby don't you think?" He asked casually one night after visiting his sister and newborn Nephew.

"Of course we would" you affirmed, carrying your take out boxes over to the kitchen island and getting out plates, "they'd look just like they're daddy".

You could see Mikey stand a little straighter, a soft smile on his lips.

"I like to think he'd have your eyes though," Mikey said, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist.

"He?" You questioned playfully.

"Or She, I'd be happy either way" he defended, pressing a warm kiss to your temple, "I want to have a baby with you, y/n".

"Well, before we make any big decisions, let's eat our food first" you giggled, brushing his hands away as they drifted down to the waistband of your pants.

Manjiro had always been vocal about wanting kids. Wanting a big family.

Until recently, you had been on the fence about kids. With Mikey’s racing career taking off and everyone's lives being so busy, you hadn't been sure it was the right time. But now that you had a real home of your own and your finances were doing better than ever, keeping the thoughts of having his baby at bay was getting harder and harder.

Once the food was cleared and you were settled back on the couch in your pj's, his hands began to wander again. Finger's tracing beneath your shirt, lingering against the skin of your stomach. Tracing patterns under your navel, his lips pressed against your shoulder as he held you close. The tv humming in the background as goosebumps raised across your flesh.

Your chest felt warm as you thought back to Mikey holding his nephew, his eyes so warm and filled with love as he cradled the baby close, adamantly refusing when Ken tried to take him after he had fallen asleep. Eventually you convinced him to leave and grab food, leaving the new family to relax, but it was the distinct glance of longing on the way out the door that stuck with you.

"Manjiro?" You asked feeling him jump a little when you used his real name and not his nickname.

"Yeah babe?" He mumbled against your shoulder, his fingers stilling against your abdomen.

"Were you serious when you said you wanted to have a baby?"

He pulled you in tighter, one arm iron locked across your chest and the other across your waist.

"Of course I was," Mikey said quietly, earnestly, his soft lips moving up from your shoulder to the corner of your jaw in a slow drag, "Want it more than anything".

You were quiet for a moment, feeling every touch of his lips on your warm skin like electricity, your ass instinctively arching back.

"Why are you asking?" He questioned, a soft grunt following as you rubbed back against him.

"Cause I want you to cum in my pussy" You said honestly. Your heart was pounding in your chest, "And I want to have your baby".

You felt him shiver against your back, arms squeezing for a moment before flipping you over, maneuvering under you so that you were straddling his lap.

"Come here" He murmured, right hand going up to the back of your neck and pulling you down.

Your lips interlocked with his in a burning passion, tongues running against each other messily as you moved your hips down against him, grinding on him through your clothes. Every brush of your clit against his clothed erection was sending your body buzzing, soft gasps escaping against his tongue as his hands grew needier against your body.

"Are you sure?" Mikey asked as he broke away from the messy kiss, groaning as you sucked a bruise up against his throat. You nodded, too preoccupied with marking his pale skin red. His hand reached up to grasp your jaw, pulling your face up to make eye contact.

"If you want it, I need a yes" He said, his dark hair ruffled against the couch pillow from your hands and his equally dark eyes shining from the light of the tv.

"Y-Yes" You stuttered, taking a shaky breath as you pressed against him.

Mikey's hands tightened around the back of your thighs as he turned to put his feet to the floor, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked back to the bedroom.

"We could've stayed on the couch you know" You said with a giggle, squealing as he threw you down onto the mattress.

"Nuh uh, wanna do this right", He replied, smirking as you laughed again.

Mikey moved up between your legs, hands pushing against the back of your knees until they were resting against your chest. He groaned as he buried his face in against your pussy, still clad in your panties and shorts, nose pressed against your throbbing clit. He pulled your shorts off quickly, throwing them over his shoulder somewhere, before latching his fingers threw the waistband of your panties and practically shredding them off.

Your skin tingled as he pressed kisses against each thigh before latching his mouth to your full exposed cunt, tongue dipping down into your clenching hole before moving up to suck at your clit, his dark eyes watching your face as you gasped and moaned.

"M-Mikey" You mewled, fingers tugging at his hair.

"Wanna put a baby in you angel, please" Mikey groaned, tone pitched and needy.

"What are you waiting for then?" You teased, an airy laugh followed by a ragged moan as he pressed his finger into your wet pussy. He was only there for a moment before pulling out again to slide his sweats and underwear off and then his shirt, his cheeks dusted a light pink as you pulled your shirt off too.

Like he was seeing you for the first time again even though you had been married for six years.

He was on you again before you could even get a breath, his lips melding with yours as he pushed your right knee back again, fingers kneading down your plush thigh.

Mikey's hushed gasp when you positioned his cock at your entrance had your blood running hot, your mouth hanging open as he pushed in until he was fully seated within your walls.

"So tight baby" he moaned, barely able to move with how hard you were clenching around him.

*"Fuck, please Mikey, want you to fill me up" you begged, holding onto his biceps has he began to fuck into your pliant body.

"I will baby, I will, don't worry" he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes shining down at you, "won't let you leave this house till you're pregnant".

Everything was so messy. The juices leaking between you onto the sheets, spit and drool dripping from your lips as your tongues danced together, fingers gripping bruises into flesh. The cream coating his cock smeared against the hair between your lower bodies, mixing with the sweat against your skin.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum" you whimpered, your left leg wrapped around his waist to hold him closer.

"Cum for me Angel" he panted against your lips, moaning with you as you tightened around him and squirted, soaking his thighs and abdomen.

Mikey tapped your thigh, ushering you to flip over as he pulled out. You flipped onto your stomach, pushing your knees up under you.

"Look how pretty you are," Mikey murmured, his hand softly gripping your ass, "gonna make the prettiest mama".

You squealed as he thrust into you, feeling him inside so deep it felt like he was touching your lungs. His cock jumped in your belly as you whined, trying to move your hips back against him.

Mikey’s right hand pushed your shoulders down, then your lower back, pressing you down to the bed in prone position. He settled himself over your back, breathing against your neck as he wedged his hard cock against your plush thighs before slowly sinking into your wetness.

Your entire body was buzzing as he took his time splitting you open over and over again, your hands gripping the sheets as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling it to expose your throat so he could mark up a bruise of his own.

"My girl, my love round with my sweet baby, make me the happiest man in the whole world" he slurred lustfully against your throat, his knees caging you in as he fucked into you roughly, his speed increasing with every movement, "gonna fill you up, can't waste it okay?"

You nodded, a warbled moan escaping when you felt his cock twitch again, his burning head thumping against the soft spot deep inside, your juices running down your thighs.

"Mikeyyy" you whined, his own whine spilling from his lips and warming your skin.

"Yes baby, fuuuuck" he growled, pummeling your tight hole and making the bed shake and bang into the wall.

Your belly warmed as he pumped you full, rope after rope of hot silky cum spilling inside of you, his cock keeping you plugged so nothing spilled out.

You both collapsed in a panting sweating heap, arms and legs tangles as he angled his hips to stay nestled in your warmth.

"Love you, so much, can't wait to have our baby," he mumbled sleepily, moving down to your exposed breasts as you lay on your back and sucked your nipple into his mouth, whining against the warmth flesh.

You giggled breathlessly, "we don't even know if I'm pregnant yet".

A harsh gasp escaped you as Mikey thrust his hips up, dick growing hard again inside of you as his dark eyes flashed up to connect with yours.

"You're right Angel," he groaned as he began rolling his hips, "we don't, so let's keep going"

[amarantoestrella]

Farmer Draken! My beloved! Sitting down the street in his cherry red pickup watching ya get dressed through your wide open window. He chews his frustration away on a blade of grass. Do you not know blinds exist? Don’t you realize that you live in this big ole nasty city? Just about anyone and everyone passing by could see what Ken’s already deemed to be for his eyes only.