#draken x oc x mikey

[asirensrage]

Saudade - Chapter 7

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: Another chapter! This one includes one of the first scenes I wrote for this fic (before it was a fully formed fic). I hope you enjoy it. Things are going to start getting a little more complicated after this chapter… Please let me know what you think!

Warning: spoilers for the last season of Tokyo Revengers and/or manga events

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

It feels strange to watch her brother’s personality change. She likes the older version of him better, the one who seems to understand her more. Not this…boy. 

He runs around without a care in the world, diving headfirst into the Tokyo Manji gang without any real thought. There’s no concern over the things she knows his future self is worried about, no paranoia over Kisaki and the merge of Valhalla into their gang. It eats at her watching him, knowing that she can’t look out for him all the time, especially when she’s in a completely different school. The only way she knows what’s going on with him is because Hinata keeps her updated and Mikey and Draken have decided that she’s one of them. Even if she doesn’t want to be. 

The problem with having a brother who’s involved in a gang, even one like Toman, is that there is no way to keep herself separate. Not really. She’s beginning to understand her role in this, especially when she’s noticing the things she missed before, like the way Kisaki starts showing up, especially when she’s being dragged somewhere by her self-proclaimed friends. 

She will always be a tool for leverage against Takemichi, especially if he gains the power his future self has proclaimed he wants. And as many friends as Takemichi gains every time he returns, he has just as many enemies. 

🏍️

She’s become more well-known after the junkyard fight. Takemichi brought an awareness to her that she knows he doesn’t realize has an impact. He is his young self, he doesn’t hear the rumours of a challenge of who can willingly get her into their bed first. Or if he does, he doesn’t care, not thinking it through. 

Draken does. 

He knows exactly what the boys are talking about when they say stupid shit and it’s only because he makes the choice to warn her that she even knows it’s happening. 

She’s sitting on a ledge with her feet swinging when he tells her. Her brother is off doing stupid things with his friends and she’s been dragged out of her house by Mikey again. She’s beginning to think she’s a substitute for when he can’t get Takemichi. 

“Heard there’s a bet running through the gangs about who can fuck you first,” Draken says. 

Both Takara and Mikey turn to look at him. 

“What?”

Takara frowns, staring at him and the way he looks too casual about it. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Draken shrugs. “That shit at the fight, they all saw you and know you’re involved with Toman. They think it’s free reign.”

“The hell I am,” she snaps. The blond had warned her when she had arrived but she didn’t think it’d turn out like this. “I’ll break their dicks off if they try.”

Mikey snorts his drink out of his nose at her declaration and Draken just grins at her. 

“Course you would,” he says it like he expects nothing else and she looks away, feeling her stomach flip. 

She swallows the sudden flash of attraction. She’ll ignore it. She remembers the way Emma spoke about him, how they look at each other. She’s not interested in causing more problems, for herself or anyone else. 

“You know who?” Mikey asks, wiping the drink off of his face. 

“Not yet,” Draken answers, looking between the two of them. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells them. “I’ll deal with any who try.” 

“Talking about me?” An arm slings over her shoulder, pulling her into someone’s side. 

She shoves them off, digging her elbow into their ribs to get them to let go. Draken steps forward, helping yank the person away. She turns and sees Hanma, stumbling before he shoves Draken off. “Ugh, who let you out of your cage?”

He turns back to grin at her. “You know I can’t stay away, princess.”

“Fuck off and die,” she snarls. 

He blows a kiss at her. She ignores him. Takara knows that Hanma and Kisaki are the cause of her brother’s deaths in the future, but right now it’s a little hard to match these kids to what her brother has told her. 

“We haven’t met,” her attention is dragged to the other boy accompanying Hanma. He looks short in comparison next to Hanma and Draken, but he adjusts his glasses and smiles at her. There’s a calculating look in his eyes that she’s used to seeing in her coaches when they’re strategizing and she knows who he is before he introduces himself. “I’m Kisaki Tetta.” 

She’s tempted to not answer, to ignore him completely since he’s her brother’s murderer, but if she’s going to save Takemichi, she needs to know everything. She nods back. “Hanagaki Takara.” 

“Hanagaki?” 

Draken moves forward, shoving himself between Takara and Hanma as he throws an arm over her shoulder. The movement pushes her slightly closer to Mikey. “Yeah, this is Takemitchy’s sister.” 

“Weren’t you on the other side?” Takara asks, looking towards Hanma. “I thought you were enemies or something? You were fighting.” She says it to feign ignorance, to let them think she doesn’t actually know what’s going on. 

Hanma grins at her like she’s confessed. 

“Valhalla lost,” Kisaki tells her. “They’ve been absorbed into Toman. They’re part of our gang now.” It’s interesting to note his use of the word ‘our’, still she frowns. 

“Is that really a good idea?” She looks to Mikey now, ignoring the others. “I just mean that if they were your enemies before, what keeps them from betraying you from the inside?” She can practically feel Kisaki’s eyes burning into her, but she focuses on Mikey, acting like she’s just trying to understand. 

“That’s not how it works,” Mikey tells her. “They’re ours now.”

“Besides, anyone tried that, we’d deal with them. There’s a whole command in charge of sniffing out traitors.” Well, that is interesting. 

“Do you get them a lot?” she asks dryly. 

“No,” Draken assures her. “Just better to be safe than sorry.”

“Hmm,” she leans back on her hands. Then they’re inexperienced. “That’s true. You need a good defence to balance your offence.”

“I’ll be your offence,” Hanma teases, leaning around Draken. 

She stares at him, unimpressed. “I don’t need your help.” She hops off the wall, brushing herself off. “Mikey, Draken, I’m going home. I’ll talk to you later.”  

“Let me walk you home, princess,” Hanma says, moving towards her. 

“No thanks. I don’t need you to know where I live.” She watches as Draken grabs the back of Hanma’s jacket and pulls him to where he was. 

“Go, Takara,” Draken says. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t follow. Unless you need a ride?”

“Thanks, I’m good.” She waves at them before walking off, her mind running with the knowledge she’s picked up. If everything was going to play out like Takemichi saw, the main culprit behind his death was Kisaki. She needed to be able to keep an eye on him so she could intercept as needed. And she would. Her brother was terrible at defending himself. She could play defence. It wasn’t her preferred position, but she could do it. 

By the time she gets home, she has a plan. It’s not an enjoyable one, but Takara learned at an early age to use what she has at her disposal. She needs to keep an eye on Kisaki to protect her brother. Her best chance at that…was through Hanma. 

🏍️

THE FUTURE. 2017

To say Takemichi was confused was an understatement. 

He didn’t understand why his friends looked like that nor why he was suddenly in an apparent position of power. He couldn’t exactly call Naoto, not with his friends following his steps and the lack of having his number. It wouldn’t look right calling a cop when he’s apparently a top admin of Toman.

He finally gets a moment to take a breath, to try to regulate this new future with the past he left behind, when he’s forced to get ready for a meeting. He does the only thing he can think of. He calls his sister.

Takara answers by the second ring. Her voice is impassionate and distracted, as if she has no care in the world. It reminds him of the way she answered in the last version of the future.

“Hello?” 

“Takara! It’s Takemichi!”

“I know. I have caller ID, after all.” 

He pauses, unsure of how to tell her that he’s himself again. “It’s been a long time.”

There’s a long moment of silence before he hears her swear. “Hold on.” There’s movement on the other side of the line, her voice as she says something he can’t catch to another person before she finally returns. “Where are you?”

“At my place? Apparently, it’s mine. It’s really fancy and there are a ton of people here. I’m supposed to be getting ready for a meeting.”

“Shit. You don’t-” He hears the sound of a lighter and then the way she inhales and exhales. She’s smoking. Again. “I can’t tell you not to go, but you shouldn’t. The men…they aren’t the people you knew, Take. We’ve all changed a lot in the last twelve years.”

“Even you?”

She lets out a huff of a laugh. It sounds a little pained to his ears. “Yeah. Even me.” There’s a beat of silence before she speaks again. “Promise me something, little brother.” He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her call him that before. 

“Anything,” he says, thrown by the endearment. 

“Be careful. Don’t trust them.”

“Who? Takara…what’s happened? Where are you?”

“Same place I always am. With my husband.” The defeated way she says it strikes fear into his heart. 

“Who? Taka?!”

“Goodbye, Takemichi. I’m sorry.”

“For what? Takar–” Takemichi is left listening to a dial tone. It’s fine. He’ll track her down after he gets through this meeting. 

🏍️

In the chaos that follows, in the wake of Chifuyu’s death, Takemichi doesn’t get the chance. He’s rescued by Kazutora and arrested by Naoto. 

“What happened to my sister?” He asks when he’s in the car, being driven to the police station. “Where is she?”

“You tell me,” Naoto says. “Your sister is suspected of being an accomplice to many crimes, but she’s only a stepping stone to the real target. If we can catch her, we’d gain access to Hanma Shuji quickly. Everyone knows how close he keeps tabs on her.”

Takemichi falls back against the seat. She married Hanma. Again. Was it always bound to happen? Like Hinata’s death? 

No. He could change that, he can change this. He can save them. 

“We’re here.” 

Takemichi is dragged out of the police car. He’ll figure it out. Somehow. 

🏍️

Takara listens haphazardly as Tetta and Shuji talk. She’s leaning against her husband, smoking, and being careful not to eye the drinks she set down on the table. They’ve mentioned disposing of a traitor tonight and she was there when Kisaki demanded Shuji’s presence in the aftermath. They sent out people to deal with the missing one. They haven’t told her, but she knows who they’re looking for. It was just a shame they were too late. 

“Right, princess?”

“I hate when you call me that,” she tells him, taking a drag of the cigarette in her hand, and tuning back into the conversation.

“That’s what you are, aren’t you? Toman’s princess?”

She smiles softly, looking away. “That was Emma, not me.” She pauses, eyeing the drinks in their hands as she leans further into Shuji. His arm on her shoulders weighs heavy. “Is that why you killed her?”

The air goes static as the accusation stands, but she didn’t say it as one. She said it as fact. Kisaki’s eyes narrow on her and Shuji’s grip tightens. 

“That was business,” Kisaki finally says. His eyes don’t leave hers and she knows he’s weighing the options of getting rid of her. She’s been a thorn in his side, but a manageable one under Hanma’s guide. 

“Hmm..” She takes another drag of the cigarette. “That why you killed my brother?” Or tried to. Again. 

His gaze sharpens. “What?”

“Taka-” Shuji’s demand for her to stop fades as he starts to blink rapidly and slump sideways. He falls off of his chair, cursing her but unable to move. 

Kisaki knocks his chair back, rising to his feet, but it’s too late. He stumbles, catching himself with the table as he reaches for his gun. She shoves the table towards him with her foot fast and watches as he loses his balance. 

“What the fuck have you done?” he asks, managing not to completely fall as he kneels. It’s a nice sight after everything she’s been through with him. “How?” 

She smiles, a real one for once, and stubs out the cigarette. “You’re not the only one who knows how to play the long game, Tetta.” She crouches, taking his gun from his holster as his fingers twitch trying to stop her. He was so focused on the threat from the men like Chifuyu, he never saw her coming. “You should have left my brother alone. Let him live his life.”

“Takara-” 

She unlocks the safety and shoots him in the head. The stunned realization remains on his face and she wonders if she could bribe someone to keep it there for his funeral. That would be hilarious. 

She moves over to Shuji. His eyes narrow and she can see the anger there. And the hurt. “I’m sorry,” she tells him. It’s true. As much as he liked to piss her off, and keep her with him, he’s tried to give her a good life. He’s tried to make staying with him worth her while. “I told you to leave him alone. You didn’t listen.” 

“Princessss,” he slurs the endearment. “-na run?”

“Nah,” she shrugs. “I think the cops will forgive me for this one. Especially when I take out the right-hand man as well.” She leans forward and kisses him quickly, for old time's sake. “Bye, Shuji.” She shoots him too.  

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[metranart]

Mikey/Draken/Baji/Mitsuya/Shinichiro x Reader (Shameless Gangbang Tease)

𖦹 Warning tags: Gang members x Reader, smut, rough sex, shameless smut, five x one, glorious orgasms, creampie, cumplay, breeding, explicit sexual consent, sexual tension, obsession, possessive behavior, five boyfriends to eat, shameless flirting, unprotected sex, breeding kink, breast feeding kink, deepthroat kink, friends to lovers, blowjobs, hair pulling, scratching, consensual fivesome, boys sickly in love with reader (must of this tags belong to the complete story) -

Your dreams were getting worse every day and you knew when it all started. Somehow, these boys just made you awfully and embarrassingly, nervous.

"Some close friends of my brother are going to start working here with us for a while, (Y/N), is that okey with ya?” 

Shinichiro had asked you with a soft and friendly smile on his lips. "They are all gang members like I was when I was young,” the black-haired scratched nervously at his nape, “but now that everyone is going to university, they maintain the gang more so as not to lose contact with all the members than other thing—I mean… they no longer break the law….”

You shrugged without turning to look at him, focused on finishing screwing the piece together. 

"This is your workshop, Shinichiro; I have no say in that." 

It still makes your cheeks burn to remember how uncomfortable your crotch felt when your boss's warm and strong hand suddenly took you by the face so that you had to look him in the eye.

"But of course you have a say in this, (Y/N)!" 

The eldest Sano gaze shone with so much intention you could swear your heart skip a beat, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the side of your chin, as he was so used to invade your personal space since both had been working together for over three years by now. 

"You are my most valuable employee, you have never taken a day off, you have never been sick, you are never late, you are outstandingly kind and polite to the clients and you always have a smile for me...-" somehow the air entering your lungs wasn’t enough right then, "...that is very valuable to me, and making you comfortable has become one of my priorities." Shinichiro assured you, and you felt like hitting yourself for stuttering when replying.

"I-I don't mind, Shini, really." You did your best to put yourself together quickly, clearing your throat to disguise the gentle pull to free yourself from his greedy grip. "I mean, I already know Mikey and Izana, I get along with both of them just fine,” you reminded him, “I'm sure I'll get along with the rest just as well."

Shinichiro stared at you with that look that indicated he was analyzing you, trying to guess if you were lying to him to please him or if you really didn't mind, after a minute of scrutiny he decided that you were telling the truth.

His smile was almost blinding and the hug he wrapped you in felt even more asphyxiating that it usually did, and although it made you extremely happy to be able to please him in this small thing, how you regretted not having put up more resistance.

You and Mikey's friends started working side by side and you're not sure when it started, but once it did it didn't stop...your dreams became relentless.

At first, it was one dream a week, then one every other day and then daily. Your dreams were innocent and even funny. The next day you came pumped into the workshop to tell them about the comical situation in which you dreamed them. 

Draken and Baji used to be the ones who bothered you the most about it, mocking good-heartedly and making everyone share a healthy laugh that lasted till the end of a hard labored day… but one morning you stopped sharing and even when they noticed it, didn’t say anything about it. 

Sooner, your cute dreams turned to the dark side, or rather, towards the most obscene and lewdest side. Now full of naked bodies and slap of flesh against flesh, you could even hear the sound with your eyes open, as if it were a cacophony that followed you around.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! — sounded every time your thighs collided with theirs, tangled and stuck in so, so, SO many sexual positions, making you wonder when you acquired so much knowledge of the variety of ways your body could twist while taking cock.

“Ya feeling okay, hun?" Mitsuya had asked you, out of the blue, wearing a worried grimace, as if he had been watching you instead of watching the motorcycle he was fixing, "… your cheeks are awfully red, perhaps you have a fever..." the lilac-haired commented with some concern. 

"It’s not a fever,” Draken was the one who answered him since his large, cool palm had landed on your forehead without your permission, “but she's certainly especially flushed today, maybe you’re overworking yourself, princess?”

The owner of the dragon tattoo wondered using that petname that made you weak on the knees and before you could start searching for an acceptable answer outside of 'my crotch is on fire, I need professional help and I don't mean a psychiatrist', Mikey stole your hand in his and cheekily placed it on top of his cheek.

"Her hand is also hot," the young Sano accused, using your limp palm to caress his face as if it were a soft cloth. 

"Her cheeks have been that color for months now," Baji interjected slowly stepping closer, wiping the grease from his hands before even dare to grace your skin, and even when you thought about dodging his palm which headed straight for your cheek, you couldn’t move. "I think, the one who can best tell us if this is normal is Shinichiro—"

Agreeing on the subject, that for some unknown reason to you was messing up their peace of mind, your boss was called out by the young Sano who didn't care that his older brother was dealing with a client at the time.

“I’m busy,” mouthed the older Sano to his younger version, and Mikey barely had to motion his chin towards you to have Shinichiro apologizing to the client. Shinichiro's features were creased but as soon as he noticed your heated face and tight posture, all scolding evaporated.

"Is it normal for (Y/N)’s face to be that beat-red, Oni-san?" asked Mikey who refused to stop using your hand as a comfort blanket, "I mean, you know her better than us, should we be worried?"

The Elder Sano's attention fell without distraction on you and soon that of the others followed, the anxiety in your head shot like a champagne cork at feeling of their scorching and piercing gazes set on you, and shaking them almost violently away from you, you stated in the least high-pitched voice you could conjure.

"I'm fine! God!" you failed miserable, your voice didn't sound right, "...you all can return to your activities… or-r leave, since it’s past six."

And with that poorly disguised outburst, you turned on your heels, ignoring the worried cries and calls for your attention, took your things and almost ran out of there. Thankfully, it had already been half an hour since the closing time but without a doubt your strange attitude would not pass ignored by that quintet of meddlers. That night your dreams morphed into something offensively, feral.

This time more than one at a time. Draken holding you against the workshop table while took turns with Baji to stuff your pussy— 

“She’s sucking me in-” the tall blonde groaned, it sounded more like a wounded animal than a human, “I can’t get enough of this pussy.” 

The worst of the dreams was that evoked a thirst in you. A doubt that ate you from the inside out: would they stretch you as well as they did in your dreams? Would they synchronize as precisely as your mind accommodated them? Mikey riding your esophagus while his older brother used your tits as the personal loofah of his cock, Draken greedily filling your wet pussy while Baji stuffed your tight ass, and Mitsuya's long fingers tangled in yours as he guided you over his erect cock, milking himself for cum—And worst of all, you loved every damn second of them using you as their concubine, like a whore who couldn’t have enough. 

In your dreams you did the things you wanted to do in real life, in your dreams you weren’t a shy, awkward girl… you spread your legs for Shinichiro's little brother friend’s, letting them use you as their personal cocksleeve, their glorified cumdump…. You hated it and loved it, all at the same time. 

And without realizing it or being able to control it, the wet dreams became more graphic and aggressive. 

You woke up gasping and scratching the sheets, your body bathed in transpiration and other fluids that left your thighs sticky and forced you to take a daily bath. You hated how flashbacks of your unholy dreams played in front of you, every time they said good morning to you in the workshop, or when they asked you for advice about some repair, or when their hands accidentally graced your skin ... it had turned into the most sublime torture, because even though everyone was already an adult and probably sexually active.... they just made you feel like a schoolgirl again. Out of control and ready to burst by a mere touch.

And, were those devilish dreams that soon made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin, forcing you to distance yourself, forcing you to take cold shower before sleep, and even, forcing you to consider the option of quitting your job...

Not even an entire day had passed, when you had Shinichiro ringing the doorbell of your apartment. You opened the door with some strangeness.

“Shini-”

"-I told you to tell me if it bothered you to work among gang members, (Y/N)," Shinichiro began without even letting you explain why you hadn't gone to work, "...or is it that I'm not a good boss anymore?" He wondered, half-worried, half-offended.

"Did I disrespect you without realizing it—because if that's the case, I’m SO sorry, it wasn't my intention…" the black-haired man's ramblings were so fast and desperate that you had a hard time finding a space to talk, "... I know you-I thought we were friends, that is to say—I consider you my friend, one of my best friends, I even told you how preciousyou are to-to… to my shop-p...” he didn’t mean to say shop but became a coward when all he could think about was not losing you, “and I'm sure that the others thing the same-"

The tips of your fingers resting on his lips was what finally made his voice fade away. 

“—Why is your first assumption that I quit my job?”

Without a doubt, you were astonished by how well this man in front could read you.

Shinichiro sighed tightly against your fingertips, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, forcing you to lower your hand and involuntarily take one step away, almost as if his mere presence burned you.

It didn’t pass unnoticed, making him sigh again.

"...As I said, I know you well and although most of the time I seem distracted, I have noticed that you look…. shaken."

You stood quiet, trying to convey to him confidence but failing miserably since your fidgeting hands were proof enough and if he needed more evidence, your foot rapidly tapping against the floor was there to support his statement.

“…… Shaken?” You repeated, trying to make sense of the word. Well, you were shaken but maybe not in the way he thought.

"I'm fine, it doesn't bother me in the least to work among gang members and yes! I also consider you one of my best friends-"

"Then why do you want to leave?" Shinichiro asked without being able to contain himself, ".... I’m really trying here, (Y/N). We're ALL trying hard in the workshop," he said without thinking, "everyone has their own internal fight to not disrespect you, not to cross that thin line," he continued without realizing that his tongue may be revealing secrets that were not his to share, "... you have no idea how difficult it is for us as well. If I told you what I have heard, what I have been told...—" he continued and suddenly you noticed that it wasn't his words that came out of his mouth:

"I feel like I'm on fire, brother" Mikey..., "my mind no longer belongs to me, boss..." Baji..., "you should force us to wear uniforms, those skirts are going to make me cross-eyed," Draken..., "is it perfume or it’s her natural scent? Cause is drivin’ me insane either way," Mitsuya...

"-God! You're so gullible," Shinichiro growled sternly before ruffling his hair between his hands violently, "...just-just…. Just don't leave us, okey? —we'd go crazy." Your boss admitted shame forgotten. 

“The city of Tokyo can’t stand five heartbroken gang members, there would be anarchy..." The eldest Sano joked to lower the tension, to try to save his loose tongue. 

He knew… he had fucked up. He said it all, he couldn't contain himself, he felt it was the only way to keep you, even if he only had one a fifth of you, he accepted it, he would covet that fifth... it would be enough, and suddenly, his huge, deep black eyes pierced your very soul with such seriousness that you almost didn't recognize him.

"-So, what do you think?" He asked and somehow you sensed that wasn't referring to work.

You raised an eyebrow and your mouth prepare to part, but he interrupted you again, "-It's what you think... I'm not talking about work anymore." 

Shinichiro Sano confirmed, and the oxygen got stuck in your chest. Were you hearing correctly or was this another one of your wet dreams?! because without a doubt Shinichiro had not only declared his feelings to you but also those of four other, extremely close people...

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "I know it's sudden but-..." he gathered his courage, "these guys are not only Mikey's family- they are also mine... and none of them could stand to see the other destroyed, so-..."

You waited for him to finish because you still couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"So, we got together to talk, and many truths were told... and we all agreed..." Shinichiro nodded his head, "we wouldn't even feel jealous, I mean, I don't know how this could work but... we just know it can work," he suddenly stopped his speech to scratch his head uncomfortably, "...am I making myself clear or am I just looking like an idiot?"

You grimaced lightly, and he tensed. 

"You're making yourself look like an idiot..." you said after a long silence, that without realizing it was consuming Shinichiro’s mental sanity, ".... but the answer is... yes."

He blinked a few times, and his lips mouthed ‘yes’ without sound, he shook his head and this time he did find his voice. "...Are you sure? We don't want you to feel uncomfortable-"

"I don't feel uncomfortable."

He nodded, and just to prove a point to himself, he dared to do what had wanted to do for almost three years. So, slowly searching your hand with his, those long, elegant fingers played with yours for a moment before tangling like a vine around a trunk.

".... I’m just gonna-” he gulped, “… just don’t move, ‘key?"

Your cheeks heated up and without knowing why you were sharing this uncanny telepathy- you already knew what he wanted. You stood still as ordered, and without wasting a single second he leant towards you without letting go of your hand, his nose bumped yours first and there he waited, giving you one last chance to change your mind….. time's up... feeding time.

His mouth pressed to yours and your heart fluttered inside your chest like a thousand butterflies, his lips were soft but firm in their advance, a clash of nerve endings like fuses lighting up to be consumed by desire and lust accumulated by three years of abstinence. His kiss felt like cold water in an arid desert, his tongue briefly asked for permission and as soon as he got it, danced its way inside like a snake sliding into a rabbit hole, devouring and feeding, leaving only destruction in its wake. 

Panting and overwhelmed, you stared at each other for a long minute. Your knees shook, and Shinichiro had the quickness of mind to wrap his arm around your waist before you fell.

"God! Three years, (Y/N). You're a sadist." He chuckled against your feeble lips, pecking your heaving mouth as if he couldn’t stand to stay away from you for even a second, it warmed your heart, and both stayed there enjoying the closeness.

".... When?" You were the first to speak.

He grinned, mischievously.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He scoffed, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I work at the store tomorrow," you teased, and his smile turned wolfish. "That boss of yours is an ass." 

You agreed and he burst out laughing. "But seriously, Tomorrow is a good day to start."

“…. Start?”

He quirked a raven eyebrow. “Sure, get used to each other, and that kind of stuff. You didn't think we were a bunch of brutes, did you?” you shrugged embarrassed being caught and he snickered, “well, I’m a little offended..." he deadpanned, pretending to be hurt yet that sinful smirk gave him away, "...we want to spoil you first and then,” he held your stare, “then… we’ll stuff you good and eat you for Christmas."

That smirk on his face should have been warning enough....

READ THE WHOLE (8000 word) GANGBANG WITH FEELINGS IN MY PATREON (here you will also find NSFW art of this story) .... Plus, more stories of tokyo revengers and other anime, each with a NSFW illustration from a scene of the story, PLUS! 'Spicy Foreplay tier reward' like: voting poll privilege for future stories, couple pairing selection for the stories and artworks, exclusive smut fanfiction and animation like THIS ONE and my eternal gratitude for your support!!!

[insensity]

ACTOR AU!!!

the akwards silence filled the air as u both got interviewed about how fans got theories about your relationship with them but u two just hit it off platonic way, u both just enjoy each other's presence and u both didnt realise u start doing couple shit with them but u just see him as a brother who always help u when u need a hand, who's your plus one to every event, and your one call away friend when you're in trouble...

but sometimes you can't stop moaning mess when his hands feeling every inches of your body, his tongue marking his territory, his dick pulling an pushing inside your wet pussy and hearing him groan your name over and over and he cums inside you.

[ograceo]

I hate it when people draw oversexualized versions of characters. They always give the characters massive boobs and butts and tiny waist and make them into femme fatales or manic pixie dreams girls or some other version of a male gaze character. I feel like I never see characters or ocs that have normal bodies. Except for the female lead from Operation True Love but a lot of people hate her character beacuse she is plain looking and Tohru honda her too. They dont like normal female characters that they cant jack off too. Its crazy!

[cheesus-doodles]

Chapter 7: Swallow the Sun

Former Gang Leader Darling AU (Red Dragonflies)

Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist | Ao3 Link for the Sane

‎

The silence that filled the room was palpable, in every sense of the word. It weighed heavy on your shoulders, the air thick and heavy with every breath becoming harder and harder to take, the tension that clogged your lungs almost as if it was an invisible viscous liquid dripping from the ceiling and slowly filling the room. You never liked the feeling that crept like an eerie fog up your legs despite having gotten well acquainted with it by now; just the life of a negotiator you supposed, more so when the parties involved tend to be hot-headed and overly-excitable delinquent gang leaders faced with difficult decisions. 

Time felt like it had come to a crawl as the world held its breath. It was an unusually quiet afternoon for the city of Shinagawa, the usual hum of traffic buzzing down the nearby downtown area noticeably missing from the background hum. Even the wind that rattled the clear windows lining one wall just prior to the Black Dragons’ arrival had faded away into a cloudless sky, leaving just the uncaring sun watching on mercilessly. But you didn’t rush, didn’t try to hurry the other party who seemed to have frozen in place, Taiju simply wordlessly staring you down with those beastly yellow eyes, the lack of emotions on his face a heart-racing sight for a lesser delinquent, while Inupi and Koko flanking him were outright gaping at you with their shock worn on their sleeves.

The calm before the storm. You understood what you were asking - no, demanding - from them. Well aware of the implication and the loaded threat that your words carried, it wasn't an if but a when and how the Black Dragons were going to be merged into your own gang, whether they wanted it to happen or not. Yet, despite the seemingly sudden nature of this meeting with Taiju, you knew that this had been really a long time coming. All these years you had watched silently from the sidelines as Shinichiro’s gang was ran into the ground by unworthy leaders, its name and reputation tainted and soiled; this was simply the final straw, and no longer were you going to let his good name be sullied any more: at least you could hold your head high and say that you upheld your oath. Quashing down the surging memories of the equally horrid direction that Izana had led the gang down during his time at the head of the Black Dragons, you turned your attention back to the painful, painful waiting: not that you didn’t want to think of the underground smuggling ring or the crime-for-hire that your former lover ran, but it wasn’t an issue to solve at this point.

The oppressive stillness seemed to stretch on, each passing second amplifying the sense of anticipation, as if the room itself were counting down to the inevitable release and the coming explosion. And oh how you hated to wait - the unpredictability of what was to come was like daggers in your skin. There was truly nothing worse than being caught off guard; you had learnt that lesson the hard way multiple times before. At least even in these turbulent minutes you mused, you could count on the rhythmic sound of Furusawa’s heavy breathing from behind you to keep you grounded as you waited, a reassurance that your best friend was there to back you up regardless of how this nasty business turned out.

In an instance, the momentary tranquility shattered, and reality came crashing back down. “What the fuck did you just say?!” His words came out almost like a hiss as Taiju leaned forward, open palm slamming down onto the abused coffee table that separated you and him, the vein on his forehead seemingly throbbing more than usual as the blue-haired boy gritted his teeth. 

Pulling yourself out from your thoughts, you leveled your gaze at the gang leader who sat from across you, turning your full attention back to the present. This wasn’t the right time to be nostalgic about the past or ponder the future. “Should I repeat myself?” You raised one questioning eyebrow. No, it was time to play.

“You’re taking me as a fool? Huh?!” He sneered, teeth bared. “Merge my gang under yours? This a fucking game to you, little girl?”

The taunt failed to rile you up enough, even if the strong emphasis on the Black Dragons being his did send a flash of irritation through your chest. No, the gang had never been his. It was Shinichiro’s and Takeomi’s, Wakasa’s and Benkei’s. Taiju was simply another steward for their legendary legacy, just like Izzy had been. Not his. A quick glance at Inupi and you saw the same turmoil in those blue eyes, but you swallowed the rising annoyance. You had worse thrown your way before. “Surely you can’t be suggesting something so vile, Taiju-san,” Bending over slightly to lightly pick your full cup off of the coffee table, you continued, your voice as even as the color of a cloudless midday sky. “I have never messed around in meetings, and never will. This is serious business.”

His tiger eyes seemed to glimmer and glint from the sunlight that filtered through the large window panes, as if simply waiting for a chance to tear into you. To eat you alive. “Then what the fuck are you trying to say?”

You sighed, unimpressed with the lack of tact on show. You didn’t fear the newest of the Black Dragon Presidents, not in the slightest, but you could at least empathize with his poor victims; this man left little room for negotiation for those who lived in his shadow. Fortunately, you did not. “I’m sure you understood me perfectly fine, Taiju-san.” Leaning back onto your chair and taking a sip of your tea, you continued to meet his infuriated stare from the brim of your cup with barely a blink. Deciding that this little dance was going nowhere, you forged ahead. “You must have heard of the brewing storm coming your way.”

Taiju didn’t seem the least bit phased. “You mean that 8th Generation Black Dragon leader? Izana?” Scoffing, the blue-haired boy flicked his hand nonchalantly, as if waving off the fly he thought Izana would be. “Won’t be the slightest issue, dealing with that rat.”

You hummed, a low, single-toned haunting note. “I wouldn’t be too sure. Izana’s a lot stronger than he looks.” A fact that you knew firsthand and all too well - even you wouldn’t be able to take him down alone, with or without the handicaps he would give you.

Silence fell over the room once again, those shaking, balled-up fists told you everything you needed to know. Consumed by anger and preferring to speak with his fists, you noted to yourself, and you wondered if you would have gotten further along if you had just let Furu at him from the start. Maybe you should now in fact - this particular meeting of leaders is coming along much rougher than you had hoped, and your precious free time was slowly but surely ticking down the drain. Yes, it was indeed time to instigate, even if you did risk another human-sized hole in your walls. Pulling yourself back up, placing your cup gingerly back down at the coffee table with a clink as porcelain met porcelain. “What I have been trying to say is,” you leaned forward, head cocked slightly to the side as a small taunting smile began to pull at your lips. “The Black Dragons are far too important to me to let you lose.”

And that was all it took.

‎

‎

Inupi had been looking forward to meeting you again for a very long time. He hadn’t been sure if he would ever be given the opportunity to do so, after everything that had gone down two years ago and you had evaporated into thin air after abruptly retiring, but now here you were. You looked so similar from when he had last seen you standing side by side with Izana, sans the physical growth, you had barely changed - but the weariness in your eyes. The sheer exhaustion that tainted your once lively eyes, it seemed to have only increased and intensified as the years went by; there was no doubt even with all he had witnessed in his life, those eyes had already experienced so much more. An old soul trapped in a young body was what you were, though it wasn’t hard for the Black Dragon member to remember the times that you had away from such heavy gang duties or the times you had spent with your now ex-boyfriend; the times when your eyes would light up as if fireworks against the dark winter sky, and your youth would come rushing back into that gaze like an water out of an opened dam.

Even this infamous meeting room brought back memories; its plush carpet always kept in tiptop condition, the eternal dance of the cranes across the walls, and the homely, worn wooden coffee table that was the centerpiece of the room. After all, the former Black Dragon Vice Captain had once spent hours within these four walls, locked at attention while watching over meetings where you and Izana poured over gang matters and strategies. Not too different from what was happening now, Inupi supposed, crystal blue eyes sliding to glance at the head of alternating blue and white hair that now occupied the sofa opposite of you. 

But you always had this presence about you; not those heavy types like Taiju’s, one that commanded fear and attention. No, you had a different type of draw; you brought a sense of closure. An unyielding, constant pressure that meetings in your presence, be it in a room or on the battlefield, will one way or another be brought to a close, with the type of ending they get being left up to your unfortunate victims to decide. 

The stoic mask the blond-haired delinquent wore threatened to break when your gaze landed on him, and your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly as you greeted him, but through sheer self-control, he had managed to simply acknowledge your attention. Now standing in your presence once more, Inupi could only wish it was you that he had approached for help with reviving the Black Dragons - the gang would have greatly benefited from a calm and experienced hand at the helm if you hadn’t upped and vanished immediately after you resigned from your beloved Reds.

And it only grew clearer and clearer that mistakes had been made as the meeting dragged on. Hearing you all but order Taiju into giving up the Black Dragons to you was the straw that broke the camel’s back, a gut punch that Inupi struggled to keep his face straight through; the reason they were here was because of his failure. There was no doubt that a lifelong delinquent like Izana’s former right-hand man had not heard the rumors swirling around about his old boss, and you being here to rescue his beloved gang from the depths of the pit he had dug them into only served to highlight one fact. Too important to let them - to let him - lose the gang: you were here because of his failure that started all the way back with the end of the Eighth Generation of Black Dragons. 

Failure to protest harder against Shion being Izana’s successor, failure to pick a better boss to follow, failure to do better: there was no other way to put it. He had failed Izana, failed Shinichiro, failed the once-pristine legacy of the Black Dragons again and again. Scars and sins that he carried, that he once hoped he could lay bare before you, for the infamous Negotiator to wash it all away; but not like this.

‎

Koko must have noticed the turmoil brewing right under those usually impassive eyes, the financier glancing over in his direction with furrowed eyebrows.

Right as his black-haired friend was about to ask, the entire mood changed, and those almond eyes snapped right back towards the silent, tense standoff that dominated the room. In that moment, the universe felt as if it had collapsed in on Inupi’s gut, the flare of desperate screams to move, to fight, to duck from the back of his head overwhelming each and every one of his senses. But there was no time to react. The sunflower-blond boy wasn't sure what had happened, or who was faster. It was as if both Taiju and Furusawa had moved within the span of a sole heartbeat; a single blink, too fast for him to even catch; and the next thing he knew, his entire view of you was filled by the jarring red of Furusawa’s jacket and the black of his shirt, the draft he generated whipping his jacket backwards. An ominous creak of wood, and Inupi chanced a quick glance upwards - and there, held above your Vice Captain’s head with a sole hand was the other half of your beloved camelback sofa set that Taiju had been sitting on just seconds earlier, its shadow eclipsing the ceiling light around where you sat.

Silence consumed everyone present, as if the room was suddenly emptied of air. Inupi barely dared to breathe should break the temporary peace, blue shaky eyes darting between the brown and pink-haired man and Taiju belied the neutral, unmoved expression Inupi wore. What happened?

Chocolate eyes met yellow ones easily, with neither party willing to back down. The sight of the sofa failing to reach its intended target, however, didn’t seem to be enough of a deterrent to any further rash actions, as Inupi watched the Tenth Generation Black Dragon President reach for the walnut coffee table with the definite intent to hurl that as well, the telltale veins on his forehead throbbing with every heartbeat. 

This time though, Furusawa was faster. A loud thud shattered the silence as a steel-toed boot came crashing down, the worn wood beneath letting out a groan at the sudden impact as it was pinned back down firmly to the carpet, a force too strong even for Taiju’s usually imposing strength to overcome. “Wanna take this outside, punk?” The Beast of the Underworld grinned as he leaned forward, that usual friendly, oblivious smile Inupi remembered having turned rather sinister, his sharp canines glinting even under the warm ceiling lights. “I can take you out right now. Makes Boss’ job a lot easier too.” 

It was a threat as clear as the sun rising at midnight, and no doubt Furusawa could back it up and come out the other end without missing a breath off; not only was it well know within delinquent circles how monstrous your Vice Captain was, but also how much the man was always itching for a fight. The mere memory of the last fight Inupi had witnessed years ago where this fighting behemoth decided he was bored and decimated an entire gang himself - he would rather avoid that happening to him at all costs. The logo of the white dragonfly neatly embroidered on the breast of Furusawa’s red jacket was as much a threat as it was a reminder for everyone else to thread carefully: this was still the heart of the Red Dragonflies’ territory, and no matter the supposed strength of the latest generation of Black Dragons, you had historically always came out on top. Results speak for themselves.

And for all the ongoings around you, your small figure remained unmoved. Fingers tapping rhythmically on one knee of your neatly crossed legs as your gaze flittered between the four boys with not a single hair out of place; your continued composure in the face of imminent danger was just one of the things that Inupi had always admired about you. That, and the full trust you always had in your right-hand man and Vice Captain Mamoru Furusawa for your safety and security - it wasn’t lost on the seasoned delinquent that you hadn’t flinched the slightest bit at the sofa flying your way, making no moves to avoid the threat, let alone dodge. Even Izana would have reacted back in the day, Inupi mused. 

You seemed content in letting this little game play out for a while more, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Perhaps to sate Taiju’s bloodlust, but he was well past done letting Taiju embarrass the Black Dragons and Shinichiro’s good name any further. This was getting way too out of hand.

‎

Taking a step forward was all that was needed to draw the room’s attention to him, but the Black Dragon second-in-command had his focus squarely on his leader, meeting that tiger gaze unhesitantly. “Stop it Taiju, don’t disrespect her.”

The blue-haired boy seemed to have been slightly taken aback by Inupi’s sudden boldness, his jaw dropping slightly at the open contempt on display from his own subordinate. In front of a rival gang leader, no less. It was provoking the sleeping dragon, that was for sure, but there was little else Inupi could think to do in the moment. Or maybe he should have sat back and let Taiju be utterly annihilated by Furusawa? A chanced look at you revealed that unlike Taiju, you weren’t caught off guard, somehow having expected that it would have been Inupi who stepped up, though seemingly disappointed at the same time for reasons beyond him. Had you been hoping for a different outcome? Something more out of him?

But unfortunately, the sunflower-blond delinquent didn’t have much time to consider this line of thinking any further as Taiju’s stunned state didn’t last long, and the historically violent and short-tempered Shiba emerged predictably into a state of utter rage. And as said gang leader turned bodily to face his rebellious subject, Inupi found himself dwarfed once more by the other’s large stature, and the memories of when he had first challenged Taiju in his search for a new Black Dragon leader came flooding back, though he didn’t take a single step back. 

Taiju’s words came out as a hiss. “What’s the meaning of this, Inui?” Fist tightening to the point that his knuckles turned white, there was little chance that the boss was anything but furious.

Inupi refused to back down. “You’re not going to win this. Don’t embarrass the gang any further.”

“How dare you?”

This was it, Inupi supposed, mulling over what he had said. With you on the other side of the table this time round, he didn’t suppose he could rely on your intervention, and he wouldn’t count on surviving Taiju’s wrath. Yet much to his surprise, instead of the thrashing he expected, another voice that had stayed silent now interjected before the blue-haired gang leader could make a move. “Lay a hand on him and I’m out,” Koko threatened, his tone pointed as the infamous financier took a step forward, putting himself between the two. A valid threat. After all, there was no way Taiju could afford to run a gang like the Black Dragons without Koko’s legendary finance skills bringing in extra income and jobs.

For all the threats and posturing, the oldest of the Shibas still seemed unmoved, a disparaging curling his lips as he looked between the two. “And then what will you do, Inupi? Run the Black Dragons yourself?” He laughed humorlessly, the mockery clear. The empty smile dropped as he leaned forward, his shadow casting over the two defiant delinquents. “I’ll burn this whole worthless gang down with me.”

Time slowed to an immediate crawl as those fateful words were left floating in the still air, and as if a heavy, wet coat had been suddenly draped over the room, every breath became a challenge to take as the atmosphere itself seemed to press down on them. Unrestrained bloodlust that tainted his senses with the hint of iron led the Black Dragons back to one single, possible source. Furusawa wasn’t the slightest bit affected by the change in mood, his signature beastly grin plastered across his face, but Inupi knew that look of yours, partially hidden behind your right-hand man’s towering figure. Utter, unbridled rage pouring through your cracked facade that had even Koko stagger a step back. “Worthless?” Hatred, pure and plain, oozing from every pore, burning and consuming those tired, kind eyes. It was the first time Inupi had witnessed it with his own eyes after hearing about it from Izana all those years ago; the legendary other half that had tamed even the Eighth Generation Black Dragon leader

Your sheer contempt for the living. “Worthless?” You repeated, the word seemingly inconceivable to you. Your abhorrence of their continued existence.

“So that’s what you were hiding,” Taiju muttered to himself, his yellow eyes sparking with interest.

As soon as it appeared, the immense pressure evaporated back into thin air like it had never been there, the world seemed to sigh as the whirl of the air-condition once more returned to the background. Taking a breath, your face was once more schooled into that familiar calm expression as you relaxed back against the sofa, the tension in your shoulders gone. Picking up your teacup once more for what should be by now a stone-cold cup of tea, you allowed a small smile to lift the corners of your lips, your gaze landed back on a shaken Inupi. “Time is getting on. Furu, return their sofa to them, would you?”

A tch, but the brown and pink-haired man complied, walking round the coffee table to lightly place the sofa back in its place with nay a thud - a surprise, given he had looked ready to fling the object straight back in Taiju’s face. You waved your hand, drawing the three Black Dragon gazes back on you, though it seemed that both gang leaders present were well past the pleasantries. “I’m sure you have other places to be, Shiba-san, so let’s put it this way. One week to join willingly.”

Taiju scoffed, his vibrant red jacket flaring out behind him as he turned to leave without another word, storming past Inupi and Koko and leaving the meeting room door open as he disappeared round the corner. You simply sighed, your gaze landing on a stoic Inupi and an ashen Koko. “Sorry about that, boys,” you smiled, waving Furusawa forward, though your Vice Captain simply handed a letter to Inupi before backing off. “You should probably be on your way too. Stay safe, okay?”

‎

‎

The hefty wooden door shut softly behind the two Black Dragons, though the click still reverberated through the room, ringing in your ears as you sat in the sudden silence, reflecting on all that had occurred in the past hour. Yet in the moment, all your mind could process was: you shouldn’t have lost control like that. You knew descending in such a state of anger was terrible for your mental health, and your nii-san would be so extremely disappointed if you did something unforgivable again.

You could really use a smoke right now.

You abruptly stood, forcing those useless, churning thoughts down and away from your consciousness, startling your long-time best friend out from his own daydreaming process. “How did you think that went, Furu?” Your voice nor expression gave no hint of the uncertainty brewing just below the surface, though you knew there was no hiding your clenched fingers from those eagle eyes, no matter how you positioned them at your side. 

But your right-hand man seemed more occupied with thinking of the could-bes, having clearly been intrigued by Taiju’s raw strength, and the lack of a fight breaking out was no doubt the root cost of the dejectedness on his face. “Went pretty well, I guess,” he mumbled, kicking his feet. “No holes in the walls, nothing broken."

“You don’t sound too happy about that.”

Furu sighed. “That blue-haired dude looked kinda strong. Could have made a great fight.”

You lightly smacked him in the arm. “Not in my meeting room,” you reminded him, attempting to sound cross but utterly failing to do so. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance though,” you added thoughtfully.

That was enough to perk the Vice Captain up, chocolate eyes glinting with eagerness and hope, as if you had just promised the life of another human being to him as a Christmas present. “Really? You think so?”

But those questions only dredged back up the doubts you had suppressed since the start of the meeting; about the effectiveness of what you did, about what you should have done, about your past and the future of the Black Dragons. Sighing, you slumped backwards into the sofa, the soft backing cushion denting and giving way as you did so. “Most likely, given how that went,” you exhaled, turning your eyes up towards the ceiling once more as you ran one hand through your hair. “If Izzy doesn’t get to them first, that is. One week is a long time.”

A pause, your words lingering in the cool air for a moment. And then you continued. “I don’t know, Furu, I still think I should have just ran with my idea of proposing marriage. Would have saved us a lot of trouble.” Your mind wandered back to your precious Toman friends. Another problem you had no clue where to start, let alone solve. Every passing day spent trying to put out the fires of your past was another day letting your treasured relationship with your boys, with Mikey in particular, deteriorate. What else could you do other than try and make it up to them later?

Your Vice Captain was on you in a second, plucking you off your sofa and out of your thoughts by the back of your jacket before you realized what had happened, and earning a decidedly undelinquent-like eep from you. “Furu! Put me down!” You tried to insist, a 180 degree change from the refined gang leader facade you had donned just minutes earlier, but the much larger man was nonplussed.

"I'll kill him," Furusawa swore, the obliviousness that usually glazed his eyes having given way to a rare serious expression, and the lack of his usual playful lilt was enough to convey the gravity of your words. “I'll kill and eat that motherfucker if you ever say that again.” 

You think that you’ve only seen the man so stern once before. Those chocolate eyes seemed intent on boring a hole straight into your soul, you mused, sighing as you threw both hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t mention it again.”

“And you won’t go behind our backs either?”

Touche. “I swear I won’t,” you crossed your heart. “Happy?”

Somewhat pacified, the brown and pink-haired man lowered you carefully back onto your two feet, though his grumpiness hadn’t disappeared completely. "Sometimes I don't think you have anything in there, Boss."

You playfully smacked him. You had, after all, told them what happened with Izzy when you met him against their advice four days earlier, and much to no one’s surprise, the meeting hadn’t gone as planned in the slightest without your usual chaperones present. Even hearing that Izana wanted to wed you immediately and went straight to violence after you refused failed to raise an eyebrow, Hase opting to simply let out a despairing groan while Koji threw up his hands in exasperation. What they said was completely true: you were way too personally involved to make sound decisions when it came to anything related to Izzy, and you shouldn’t have. Yet the lingering doubt refused to let go. "But what if-"

"We will handle it. Like we always do," Furusawa interjected. “You’re not alone.”

The grin you shone at your oldest friend was genuine as you leaned into his side. "Thanks Furu." As usual, your wiser friends were right.

“Anytime, Boss.” A grumble of his stomach broke the peace, and you laughed. Time for lunch with the others.

‎

‎

Across town and just as you first waved the Tenth Generation Black Dragon leader through the ornately carved doors of your famed meeting room, a certain blond-haired time leaper was knee-deep living his most miserable past yet.

“Get up.” 

Takemichi barely registered the nudge to his side, too busy ensuring that his chest kept heaving along through the throbbing pain as he struggled to catch his breath. Sprawled spread-eagle across the blood-splattered canvas floor of the fighting ring, it was only the rank, foul odor of sweat, blood and god-only knows what else - soaked up from a filthy past of countless fights and fermented in the summer heat - radiating up that kept him still clinging on to consciousness. Only the dead could sleep through a stink like that. Yet no smell could help with rebooting his shaken brain still rattling around his head from all the throwing around he had just endured. 

Unfortunately, Hase didn’t seem as inclined to indulge his self-pity party nor give a second chance, and the next ‘nudge’ was instead a firm kick to his side, enough to roll Takemichi over several times and face first straight into the metal cage that separated this ring of hell from the outside world. “I’m not repeating myself,” came his drawl, followed by the familiar click of a lighter and the stinging smell of cigarette smoke that pierced his nose.

A snort off from the side. “Think you might have killed him,” Jun complained, his tone clearly bored as he lightly smacked his baseball bat against his calf. A pause. “That might be a boon though. Changing the future and all.”

Scratch that, his death wasn’t even an inconvenience. He could cry right now. He really could. Even Mikey didn’t waste his time finding nobodies to beat up for the hell of it. How was it that your brutal, heartless captains were so vastly different from kind, caring you? How is it you hadn’t yet been eaten alive by these monsters in human skin? Were you perhaps as much a monster as them? The mere idea of you staring down at Takemichi like Mikey did, with cold, empty eyes, sent a shiver down his spine, and he pushed the thought to the back of his head. No, there was no way you could hide something so sinister, not how genuine that gaze of yours had been or how sincere you were about your care towards your friends. 

Then again, Mikey hasn’t had to shake the truth out from him just yet, and you weren’t particularly interested in digging those secrets out yourself either. Takemichi sighed, resigning himself to his fate. It wasn’t as if he could get his answers at the moment, and so albeit the reluctance and the protests of his body, the blond-haired boy pulled himself up from the well worn tarp, biting back the tears as he somehow managed to twist his bruised self into a sitting position, resting against the crisscrossing bars. Risking what Hase would do to him if he didn’t obey was just one more thing that Takemichi did not want to test - he might actually die if he gets tossed across the ring again.

“I’m up, I’m up,” the time traveler hastily reassured through swollen, bleeding lips, though it was more to convince himself than the other two seasoned gangsters as he carefully shuffled black and blue limbs around in an attempt to make things more comfortable. Dressed in just his sports shorts, he already made for quite the pathetic sight, with clear purple-and-black bruises decorated his upper chest, arms and legs, and this was barely helped by just how scrawny Takemichi looked next to the much taller and well-built Hase. 

Hase, himself clothed in a simple shirt and shorts and with bandages wrapped around bare hands and feet, only rolled his eyes at the carefulness in which Takemichi picked himself off the floor, those dull gray eyes glaring down at him with disdain as he brought his cigarette up to his lips for another drag. “Nothing’s broken, stand.”

“But everything hurts,” Takemichi mumbled, the sharp flashes of agony that had rippled through his body from being beaten and thrown around having finally died down to a throb that radiated from his chest with every breath. How was it that he constantly finds himself in these sorts of situations? All he ever wanted to do was to save Hina from her unfortunate, undeserving destiny, was that too much to ask? Well, save Hina, Naoto, Mikey, and the rest of his newfound Toman friends, but still. 

It had been a mere four days since you first waltzed into his life and class with a letter from the school principal, looking for him, and two since Jun had crashed his class and dragged him off in front of his teacher and all his classmates by the scruff of his neck, having figured through some unknown means that Takemichi was, in fact, a time leaper. And now, four days on from that fateful day, he hadn't even recovered enough from the beating he got from Hase two days prior before being today’s fresh punching bag. A time traveler of twelve years he was, but even now, Takemichi wished he had the ability to reach back just a single day to warn himself of what was to come.

‎

He had almost forgoed school this morning. A bad gut feel, one that was strong enough to cramp up his stomach, making it near impossible for him to roll out of bed; Takemichi couldn’t recall the last time when his body had protested this much against doing something. He knew he should have listened, stayed at home to rest out the pain. It might have been the air being denser than normal, might have been just a bad snack the previous day, or the fact that he was still recovering from the  stomp he received courtesy of your Red Dragonflies’ First Division Captain. Whatever it was, Takemichi should have heeded the warning.

But Hina had promised to go out for tea with him after school if he showed up, and the blond-haired boy just wasn’t strong enough to resist. And so against his better judgment, he went anyway. 

The ominous rumbling of his stomach a second foreboding time was hard to ignore as Takemichi slipped through the front door of his homeroom class, cutting it close to being late again just as the bell rang through the empty corridors outside. His homeroom teacher shot him a stink eye as he sat down, but with nothing to hold against him, she let him go. At least for those few precious seconds, the time-traveling delinquent recalled, there was peace in his world. Normality had returned, and maybe he could rest for a bit.

A tug at his sleeve. “Hey, Hanagaki-kun.” Followed by the rustle of a piece of paper being slid between tables. “For you.”

Alas, it was the third and final saving grace that fate had attempted to extend his way; the chance to simply ignore the Red Dragonflies’ gang member of a deskmate he had for the remaining five minutes that this period would last before he could make his getaway, but it was too little too late. Blue eyes slipped to meet Suzuki Hisao’s before Takemichi could stop himself, and the boy mentally kicked himself. “Uh- sure. Thanks Suzuki-kun,” he mumbled back, reaching out to quickly grab the offered note, attempting to slip the piece of paper into his pocket without looking. Perhap he could still get himself out of this mess…

“Aren’t you going to read that? It’s from Hase-san, you know.”

Dammit. Why did his usually sleepy classmate have to be so sharp when it came to this? “I was just going to,” came Takemichi’s weak reply, tinted with obvious despair. There was no avoiding or denying what was written in a surprisingly neat print on the inside of the folded scrap paper: an order to meet back at the “same place” at 11am. The same place? As in that dingy underground fight club where he got beat to an inch of his life? Not only had he been there just a single time and had no recollection how to make his own way back to that hellhole, but 11 in the morning was still class time. How was he supposed to up and leave?

The unvocalized frustration painted on his face must have been misinterpreted by Suzuki, because the unusually enthusiastic boy leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, envy clear in his tone. “So how did you do it?”

Takemichi startled at the sudden interjection to his thoughts, though fortunately, the drone of his homeroom teacher about one topic or another (he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention) was enough to drown out any sound that escaped his lips. “Sorry?”

“First, Boss comes to seek you out personally, now you’re getting training from Hase-san? Two of the greatest honors. How did you do it?”

Greatest honors? Two? The blond-haired delinquent gave a nervous laugh, eyes shifting away to stare at the ground. Shit. “I-I think there’s been some confusion, a-ahaha…” There was no possible way to break it nicely to the starry-eyed Suzuki that all your Reds wanted with him was to wrangle as much information about the future as they could before discarding his lifeless body. “There’s no training-”

“Hase-san doesn’t train anyone outside of the Wings and his own two Vice Captains,” the Reds’ gang member interjected. “And you’re not even a Red. How’s the training? Are you learning quickly?”

Deciding that he no longer wanted to discuss his upcoming death, Takemichi instead racked his brain for a discussion change. “Uh- Suzuki-kun, don’t you report to Koji-san?”

The awe on his deskmate’s face melted away as the implication of the question set in, giving way to pursed lips and solemn eyes. “Yes, but everyone obeys Hase-san.” A moment’s pause, and then Suzuki hastily corrected himself. “Besides Boss and Furusawa-san, of course.”

Takemichi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Everyone obeys Hase? But isn’t he the First Division Captain?” That would be like expecting Hakkai or Peh to differ to Baji despite them being in different divisions.

“Hase-san’s the First Wing, yes, but he’s also the gang’s de facto commander,” Suzuki explained, keeping his voice down to a quiet mumble that easily blended in with the normal chatter as the homeroom teacher trailed off. “Runs the day-to-day operations for the boss. So if Hase-san gives you an order, you obey. And he personally - personally - asked me to pass you this note and bring you down to the club.” 

With that, the excitement came roaring back onto the other’s face, and Takemichi groaned. So much for topic diversion. 

As if on cue, the lesson bell rang, its shrill, ear-piercing scream marking the end of both homeroom and this conversation. Suzuki stood, swinging his bag casually over his shoulder. “Right, we’re leaving at 10.15 so make sure your bag is packed then. Hase-san despises tardiness.”

‎

Fuck, he was going to miss his tea with Hina. Lost in his recollections of the recent past, wondering whether Toman or the Red Dragonflies were the worse gang to be a part of, it was the new shadow falling over him that finally tore Takemichi from his memories and musings, though it was too late to avoid the hand that wrapped itself around the scruff of his neck, bodily lifting him from where he had been slumped against the fighting ring’s cage. "No speed, no technique, no strength,” Hase noted blandly, the smoldering cigarette held between chapped lips uncomfortably close to Takemichi’s skin as the older man gave him a once over before dropping him back on his two aching feet. “Can’t last a minute in a fight."

“Ouch,” Takemichi winced, sharply inhaling through his nose, the pain both physical, from landing on his sore and abraded feet, and emotional, from having the quiet part said out loud. Damn, do your guys really need to poke at his weakness like that?

The protest wasn’t lost on Jun, who snorted, lifting his wooden bat to point directly at him from where the Second Wing was lazily sprawled across several spectator seats. “You can barely throw a fucking punch and you’re still fucking complaining during training?”

“I tried! That wasn’t training, that was a curb stom-“

A loud bang cut Takemichi off before he could finish, and the Toman delinquent whirled around right as Hase lowered his leg from where the thick metal bars of the fighting cage were now clearly indented in the shape of his foot. Said man didn’t even bother sparing a second look, moving to yank a well worn chair to the middle of the ring, but the message was clear. If this had been anything but training, the blond-haired boy would have been dead many times over. “Start off from where you stopped,” the blue-haired First Wing ordered, his weary words as steely as the seat he slumped into, the metal beneath letting out a groan of protest at the sudden weight put on its tired joints.

“Fucking showoff,” the baseball player mumbled, though this was promptly ignored by Hase.

No seat for him? Takemichi sighed, opting to lean back against the cage for a bit of support to take the pressure off his feet. Even if neither of the two were clad in the usual red, he still very much felt the exclusion. “Well, we covered the first future-”

Jun interjected. “Where there was only Mikey and Kisaki are at the top of Toman and no Red Dragonflies, yes. And then the second future, all those clingy Toman motherfuckers are dead, and you got all fucking emotional where you had to kill that fucking Sano, get the fuck on with it.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jun,” Hase snapped irritably, before waving his free hand at Takemichi as he lifted the other to pull the finished cigarette from his mouth. “Start from there, after your return from Manila.”

The Toman member shivered as those dull gray eyes came to rest once more on him: it was the same thousand-yard gaze from the timeline he was about to recall, the same look Hase leveled straight at you as he pulled the trigger. Somehow, those eyes hadn’t changed despite the events of the future being twelve years away; Takemichi could only wonder what the tired man had already seen. Wondered what you had seen - if anything, your eyes looked too awfully similar to Hase’s, for someone so young. Instead, shaking himself back into reality, the time leaper cleared his throat. “Well, after returning to Tokyo, I found out through Naoto that it was someone called Kurokawa Izana who was the boss of Toman alongside Kisaki. I'd never heard of Izana till then, so Naoto had mentioned that he was going to go back to the station to do more digging, but then we were jumped.” 

The tap of wood against concrete ceased, and with a shriek of cheap plastic from his protesting chair, the Red Dragonflies’ Second Wing leaned forward, bat now propped up between his legs, black almond eyes fixed unblinkingly on Takemichi. Even Hase seemed intrigued, his posture stiffening - the word ‘jumped’ having caught both their attention.

“We were jumped from behind by you, Hase-san.” 

As soon as those words left Takemichi, the loud ‘ha!, followed by the screeching of a chair being forced back nearly gave the Toman member a heart attack, Jun leaping out of his chair and swinging his bat at the First Wing. “I called it! I fucking called it!” He bellowed triumphantly, his screech as piercing as a murder of crows, ringing out over the hum of the large exhaust fans overhead and echoing across the empty betting hall.

But along with that celebration also came a loud groan followed by a thwack as Hase threw his head backwards, bashing it against the metal chair backing, one hand immediately slipping into his pants pocket to pull out that trusty pack of cigarettes. “Fuck me. It had to be me, huh?” The blue-haired man muttered to himself, pulling and pushing a stick into his mouth with a single fluent move. 

“I told you I’ll never work for that fucking rat, not even once,” crowed Jun proudly. “Pay up, fucker.”

The other Red executive sighed, and from the other pocket pulled out a wallet. “At least come up to the cage.” Takemichi didn’t catch how much had changed hands, but there was no mistaking the size and color of those 10-thousand yen notes being passed between bars. They were betting on the future? Scratch that, the two of them had guessed enough of what happened to make a bet?

Hase grumbled something about blood money going to idiots, but did not return to his seat, instead opting to lean against the bars of the fight ring, gray eyes now fixed on the blood and sweat splattered canvas floor even as he spoke to Takemichi. “Continue.”

“Um- yes so both of us were knocked out, but you said that it was Kisaki that told you that I would be found easily near Naoto. Next thing I knew, I woke up as I was being dragged by my foot alongside Naoto through the corridors of some penthouse, and then Hase-san pulled us into a bedroom.”

All of the celebratory mood was instantly lost, evaporating into the hot summer afternoon and leaving behind a heavy, tense atmosphere; Jun’s face turned solemn once more, and Hase only seemed to age further under the harsh white lights that flooded down from the ceiling. The time leaper swallowed hard - no doubt they could already sense where this was going. He hurried on. “And Izana was there, on the bed, with- with-” But for all his attempts to just keep going, to tell your Red Dragonflies what they needed to know, it was the image of you that came flooding back into the front of his mind. His words failed him. Those dead glass eyes of yours were still staring straight at him from beyond time, haunting him from his memory. 

“With Boss,” Hase finished off Takemichi’s sentence with a mumble, the words slipping from his lips like a prayer.

Takemichi shakily nodded. It was all he had left in him to do, and the boy collapsed back to the ground, his jelly legs finally having given up the last of their strength. Naoto had been right, he bitterly thought as he tried and failed to bite back the tears brimming at the corners of his eyes - this timeline they were headed down was truly the worst future. But what more could he do? The underground ring felt more like a desecrated church in the moment, the enormous concrete bunker forever hidden from the light of the sun falling eerily calm as the sound of the exhaust fans blended into the background, the whistle of wind being forced through narrow gaps under heavy steel doors as if haunted by the ghosts; though from his past lives or of fights past, the time leaper couldn’t tell.

“Keep going. What happened next?”

The rest of the tale spilled out of the weary time leaper as a whisper, but it was enough for the other two present to hear every horrid word and detail relayed: about your scars and bruises and Izana’s obsession over you, about your dead mind still trapped in a living body, about the white-haired man shooting a future Naoto before trying to get you to turn the gun on Takemichi. About how it was Hase that finally put you to rest, about Furusawa’s death by ambush, and then Jun’s and of countless others at said First Wing’s hands, and finally how he had a chance to escape to the past before his own untimely end. 

The two older delinquents simply listened on in calm, eerie silence, content with taking in and absorbing the words for now. A tale that was way too specific to be made up yet still lacking a frustrating amount of detail, though neither seemed too bothered by the future Hase’s actions. A moment of silence as Takemichi’s words trailed off, and the three processed everything that had happened so far. The next time Jun spoke up, his tone was completely flat and volume close to conversational, his usual loudness nowhere to be found. “And you say this… Kisaki. He is the one pulling the strings?”

It took Takemichi by surprise, the fact that the loud and crass baseball player could sound so normal, but he still nodded. “Yes, that is what me and Naoto think. Izana mentioned that I was to be Kisaki’s target. And in every future, Kisaki is present as one of the heads of Toman.”

“But so is Mikey,” Hase pointed out. “How do you know it's Kisaki and not Mikey calling the shots?”

The Toman member’s jaw slackened. “But- but-” Takemichi stammered. “Mikey would never do something like that!” The face of the Toman President, framed by blond strands, cuddled into your side and protesting about something inaudible came to the front of his mind, the same boy that would fight through hell and high water for his friends; that Mikey?

An annoyed tap of wood against concrete. “You don’t know that,” the Red Dragonfly’s battle strategist pointed out, his long blond hair flung backwards over a shoulder in an attempt to get the sweat-covered strands out of his face. “That Sano shithead is another persistent factor, plus he’s already a current pest to Boss.”

“It can’t be.” He knew what they were saying was the truth, but still, it wasn’t something that Takemichi could accept - yes, Mikey from the future had been the one committing cold-blooded murder of people he knew and loved, but that wasn’t the real Mikey. That couldn’t be truly the Mikey he knew. “It can’t be Mikey. It has to be Kisaki that made Mikey do it. Or Izana.”

Jun hmmpfed, but fell silent. It was clear that they didn’t trust Toman much either.

Within the cage of the ring, Hase took a drag, exhaling another column of smoke as he pulled the stick from his mouth. “You’re back here to save someone, aren’t you, Hanagaki?”

“H-huh?”

The blue-haired delinquent turned his eyes up towards the giant overhead exhaust fans, the single constant sound that made up the background hum. “That’s why you keep coming back. Someone you lost that you just didn’t have enough time with.” Tired gray eyes turned on Takemichi, that gaze that seemed to see through him and his entire life. A statement, not a question. It was as if he already knew.

Takemichi couldn’t help himself even as he rubbed ever so gently at his tearing eyes. “Hina.”

“A girlfriend.” 

“Oh!” A forgotten detail from twelve years later that had eluded Takemichi quickly returned, and the blond-haired boy looked up. “Hase-san, in the future, you had a boyf-“

The smoldering cigarette butt that came hurling straight at him cut any remaining words off, and would have hit him square in the face if Takemichi hadn’t dodged with an eep.

“That’s enough outta you,” Hase muttered, annoyed, even as Jun looked on suspiciously, though the room quickly returned to the topic at hand. “So the kid we’re looking for is a Kisaki Tetta.”

Jun spat, finally standing from the creaky plastic chair with a curse and pulling a flipphone from his back pocket. “I’ll get that name to Masashi, pull everything we got.”

Both sets of eyes once more slid onto Takemichi, and the blond-haired boy recoiled slightly as Hase took a few steps towards the boy, only for the man to stop right before him to crush the finished stick into the canvas. “You keep him away from Toman, Hanagaki,” Hase drawled, turning on his heel and making for the cage door right as the clock that hung on a far wall struck twelve noon. “We’ll take care of the rest once we find that fucker.”

A soft chime, combined with the screeching creek of worn hinges being forced open brought a sense of relief flooding through Takemichi; he hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath all this time. His hell was over, at least for today. No doubt it’ll still be a tough slog ahead to save everyone that he cared for, but at least for now, of all the people in the world, the time traveling delinquent had come to realize that these two were perhaps exactly who needed to hear what happened. Instead of facing down the future alone, the events today were enough to tell him that they were who he needed on his side to counter Kisaki - maybe they really had a fighting chance. Maybe they could change the future.

“Suzuki Hisao will inform you when the next training is.” And then that eternally unamused voice that only ever carried the promise of more pain floated over from the doorway, and Takemichi immediately groaned. Great, now he regretted thinking all those good things about those two demons you called friends.

Jun didn’t miss the opportunity to rub it in as Hase strolled off, his bat letting out a muffled yet equally threatening thud as the baseball player swung it to rest once more over his shoulder. “Can’t have you fucking die on us again.”

Fuck him sideways.

‎

‎

Looking over Shibuya from the rooftop was a vastly different feeling compared to wandering through the city streets below, Kisaki determined, gray eyes peering out from golden-rimmed glasses gazing down upon the unsuspecting passersby below. A skyscraper roof was one of the last places Kisaki thought of coming, and though he appreciated the silence and the privacy away from the hum and drum of traffic, he still couldn’t quite comprehend what Izana meant by light air pressure. Perhaps it was just a thing about the wind that the other enjoyed.

Yet it was the thought of the white-haired Tenjiku leader that led his mind straight back to you, and that mental image of you huddled tight against Izana’s side four days ago was proving impossible to push from the forefront of his mind. Kisaki hadn’t meant to stalk the two of you all the way to your meeting area - and it wasn’t the smartest decision, given how much trouble he had finding his way back out of the industrial area - but he couldn’t help his curiosity. The insistence with which he held you to his side, Izana's obsession with where you were and who you were with at all times, the gentleness with which he bundled you into his arms, completely contrasted with the dark bruises your former lover left you with the moment you stepped out of line.

Of course, he had already heard of the lingering hushed whispers about you and your formidable well before he ever made the acquaintance of Izana, while he was still chasing the invincible Mikey. Who wouldn’t have, even after the briefest dip of their toe into the delinquent world, even if you had already been away for two years? Hell, the constant rumors swirling on when, not if, you were returning were hard to ignore. But Kisaki could never quite find any trace of you despite having paid a handsome sum for an old photo of you, and neither were the Red Dragonflies accepting new members. So with Toman being the new up and coming gang and its undefeated boss Mikey at its helm, they were who the glasses-touting delinquent decided to go with.

But then out of nowhere you returned and were now back in the game. With what he knew, Kisaki was certain that Mikey and control of Toman were no longer the ultimate prize. No, if he were to stand at the top of the delinquent world, it had to be by your side. Not only were you back at the head of a gang that stated and enforced the rules of the delinquent scene in the Greater Kanto region, but you were now living rent-free in both Izana’s and Mikey’s heads: your presence and absence had a direct effect on the ebb and flow of their lives, and he had witnessed it with his own two eyes. After all, why else would the king of Tenjiku play his hand and risk it all just to get you back to his side? Why did Mikey only give him the time of day in exchange for information about you? 

“Plot and play all you like, Kisaki Tetta,” those words echoed in his mind from a not-so-distant past, empty violet eyes staring him down when Kisaki first offered his services to Izana. “Touch her, and I’ll kill you myself.”

Yet despite you seemingly equally enthralled by the two rival gang leaders clad in black and red, making it easy to gain access to you if he stuck with Izana, you were also easily the biggest headache that the blond-haired tanned boy had ever tried to deal with. The Four Wings you surround yourself with, that monster of a right-hand man Mamoru Furusawa, and then for the cherry on top, your extensive network of contacts that spanned every level of society; you yourself were one dangerous foe, and crossing you would not be a fun experience. 

Kisaki couldn’t ask for a better target. This win would be exhilarating.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, the mastermind exhaled, allowing himself to clear his thoughts of you and instead turn to take stock of and evaluate the day’s events. As per usual, with the news and information he had brought on you, Mikey had indeed deemed it worthy to grant him an audience, and Kisaki thought he had done a pretty good job riling the other boy up - that crease of eyebrows and flash of anger behind usually empty eyes, the lack of hesitation at accepting his offering of a vial of sleeping drugs. All in all, the blond-haired boy thought as he finally stepped back from the edge, turning to return to the building interior, a good day’s work that is enough to consider giving himself a pat on the back.

Needless to say, he would be elated to finally have the chance to meet you face to face soon.

‎

‎

The celebratory mood didn’t transcend well back in Yokohama, where the rest of the notorious S-62 generation had gathered atop a similar skyscraper, the brutal heat of the afternoon sun somewhat dissipated by the constant wind and some shade provided by the towering antenna behind.

“Can’t believe we have to listen to that blonde fuckhead,” Shion complained, letting out a grunt as he slumped onto the concrete slab, free hand swatting at the beads of perspiration rolling down the tattooed side of his head. “Thinking he knows better than me.”

Ran, more comfortably positioned leaning up against a wall, raised one eyebrow at the statement. “Didn’t think that was hard to achieve,” the elder of the Haitanis commented lightly. “Rather low bar, in fact.” Rindo nodded, stoic facade firmly in place despite the clear amusement shining through spectacle-framed violet eyes. 

Unluckily for the two, the insult simply bounced off of the former Ninth Generation Black Dragon leader, who shot them an annoyed look. “Don’t ya think it's all junk too? How come he gets to be the boss of us?” A snot, before the boy answered himself. “Fucking no, I say.”

Mochi, who had up till now been sitting cross-legged on the floor, suddenly stood, turning to face Shion with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you questioning Izana’s decision, Shion?” Fighting words that were enough to get the other to backtrack a little, and the conversation on Kisaki quickly died after that. After all, if Izana said so, that it was as such, no matter whether they agreed or disagreed.

The loud, jarring sound of a horn echoed up from congested roads below, cutting through the momentary silence and the peace that the open air brought - it was rare for delinquents like them to have downtime like this, given the conquering mood that their king had been in. To no one’s surprise, it was Shion who once more broke the silence. “I wonder what Izana wants with the Red Dragonflies.”

Rindo let out an unimpressed grunt. “His girl’s the boss,” the younger Haitani stated simply, earning himself an profanity filled exclamation of non-belief from said former Black Dragon President. “I don’t care if you believe it or not, it's true.”

“No fucking way, she left, didn’t she? Quit being a delinquent and all.”

“Not anymore, she returned after the latest president got the boot,” Ran weighed in, backing his younger brother up. “Kicked his ass herself too. We were there.”

“You think we’ll ever meet her?”

Kakucho kept silent, content with simply listening to his fellow executives' increasingly heated discussions about you. He knew better, of course, having been there when Shinichiro first brought you to the detention center to meet Izana, and had been keeping his ear to the ground for news on your movements since then. You hadn’t been worth a glance to the white-haired boy all those years ago, but the same couldn’t be said now, and with how important you were to his hero, his king, as a mere servant, there was no excuse for Kakucho not to know where you were at all times. Yet, above all, the black-haired boy with the scarred eye knew he had an obligation to Izana, to keep his best friend safe, be it from the world or from himself. And whatever Izana thought he was doing with Kisaki in a bid to have you back by his side wasn’t safe - Kisaki wasn’t to be trusted in the slightest, Kakucho knew. He could only hope that his friend would forgive him after the dust has settled for going to you with this information.

‎

Yet unknown to the Tenjiku executives making the most of their downtime away from the troubles of the streets, it was one of many Tenjiku grunts who had the misfortune of tripping over an awkwardly held white cane as a man in sunglasses breezed by, the loud thud of the boy landing on his ass causing the other to come to a stop. “Sorry, did I trip you?”

“Stupid fuck!” The apology was far from well-received, though upon several red-clad delinquents crowding around the offender, it was clear that he was simply blind. “Watch your fucking cane!”

“My sincere apologies,” Koji offered, dressed simply in a black shirt and jeans and a baseball cap, tapping his cane around in a show. “I didn’t mean to.”

At least it seemed the boys were unwilling to let loose on the disabled, and with a few more profanities, they were on their way, none the wiser to the miniature microphone that had been slipped into one unsuspecting jacket pocket. Bingo, the Third Wing amusedly thought as he turned, resuming his stroll down the busy streets of Yokohama City, before turning the corner and disappearing into a side alley.  Masashi should have a much easier time with his task now.

‎

‎

“I swear guys, cross my heart, I broke up with Izana two years ago,” you found yourself repeating for the umpteenth time reassuringly, as you bundled a sniffling Kazutora further into your arms, your other arm thrown tightly over Baji’s shoulders. “We aren’t together anymore. I don’t lie, never to you boys.”

“Bbu-but what about those red bastards?” A pathetic tug at your sleeve, as Kazutora sobbed into your chest, your shirt clutched firmly between his fists, a far cry from the rampaging, bone-breaking, unforgiving delinquent he had been just an hour earlier. “You’re going to leave us again,” the boy with the duo-color hair accused, before bursting into tears once more, only for you to smile and run your free hand through his hair.

“I won’t. I really won’t.”

Mitsuya didn’t seem impressed in the slightest, neither by the theatrics nor your answers. “But you were with them earlier this morning,” the Toman Second Division Captain blandly noted. “And you’re still going to meet them tonight. Without us.”

“You also still agreed to meet Izana, where he gave you a wedding ring,” Draken added, the tallest of the boys easily stepping over sprawling legs to pick you up by the back of your shirt, dislodging your clingers and setting you gently back on your own two feet much to the protest of Baji and Kazutora, though the raised eyebrow had you nervously looking away. “That doesn’t sound like breaking up to me.”

You sighed, throwing your hands up in the air. “I have an informant meeting tonight, I already told you boys this. And no, I don’t plan on meeting Izana alone again, let alone marry him. Ever.”

Despite it being a negative, the word ‘marry’ instantly triggered another loud bawl from Kazutora, who flung himself at your legs.

Outside, the sky was turning a dusty blue as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon, the hustle and bustle of traffic from the city center fading away along with the dying light. 

Yet for all the shenanigans going down, there was one notable exemption from the usual party, a blond-haired figure sitting a distance apart from where you and everyone else had gathered. You had returned exactly on time as you had promised, Mikey dully noted from where he was leaning up against the far wall of your room, empty abyss eyes staring blankly down at the taiyaki clutched in one hand. It had been five days since the Toman President had learned about your scars from Kisaki, and four since he had seen them with his very own eyes, the vileness that tainted your being, that you had hid from them all these years. You, their precious Toman princess, who Mikey had revered as his friend, as someone he would do anything for. You did not belong only to him.

The darkness settling over the land masked the same blackness that now tinted his eyes as Mikey looked up. You had caught his gaze and returned a gentle smile, but did nothing more than that where you would have usually beckoned him into a hug and forehead kisses; no doubt your relationship with Mikey was rocky at the moment, to say the least. And despite your efforts to patch things up, whatever you did was never enough, not with all that was at stake. Kisaki was right - to be able to keep you by his side forever, he - they - needed to get rid of the competition. All the competition.

The cold glass of the vial and the rustle of a needle pack tickled his skin as Mikey’s hand brushed past, though the blond-haired delinquent ignored the sensations only to pull out his phone. Soon. To start with that white-haired bastard, or with those Red scum? It didn’t matter, of course, not to Mikey. Because if you wouldn’t come quietly to him, then he would have to take everything else away.

[blue1lotus]

What if I made a Tokyo Revengers and Wind Breaker crossover? What if? WHAT if? WHAT IF?!!! But it’s set in like the future, like it’s mostly windbreaker… but Tokyo Rev characters do make appearances, should I make fan kids?! Do I add time travel into the mix?!?. *Yelling in the distance* *Gasp* I got it! I’m writing this down so fast, guys. Someone stop me. Boom!

Sano Emiko, the estranged daughter of Sano Manjiro, and Sakura Haruka, a determined and aloof young man, are childhood best friends. Together, after a near-deadly and brutal experience in their childhood, join Furin High School in hopes of fighting their way to the top. 

This is basically the premise and what I have so far. God, this is the only thing I’m gonna be obsessing over for weeks. Good luck y’all. 🫡

Me writing the first chapter right now ⬆️: My hyper fixation is through the roof right now, y’all!

[tobifuyu]

Die For You • Masterlist

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

Baji Chizu infiltrates Bonten to get ahold of her childhood friend, Sano Manjirou. She quickly realizes he’s not the same man she remembers and loves and now, too deep in the grasp of Bonten, the only person willing to help her survive is the one she can’t stand the most, Haitani Ran.

cw: nsfw, mdni, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, fluff, angst, references to depression, drugs, panic attacks, blood and violence, prostitution, basically anything that has to do with bonten, protective haitani ran, sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning.

Prologue | Chapter 01 | Chapter 02 | Chapter 03 (coming soon!)

[goddess-mixmi]

Christmas Showdown Arc

Sometime after the Bloody Halloween incident, Kisaki decided to form another plan. This time this plan was to prevent his twin sister Misa from intervening with his goal, but also because he couldn’t stand seeing her so sad after Baji’s death. As twisted as it was he came up with a plan for Hanma to ask her out, Hanma agreed only because he found it entertaining but what he hadn’t expected was he actually grew feelings for her after a few weeks. Now he’s in a predicament where he’s both botching the mission Kisaki gave him and now feels bad for lying to Misa.

Misa is a smart girl but she was dealing with a broken heart, Keisuke was everything to her. And the fact Hanma comforted her when she needed it sparked a new attraction, so of course she gave him a chance after getting to know each other better. But when it came down to the Christmas showdown she broke things off thanks to Takamichi convincing her to really think about how suddenly things happened. She was mad that not only Chifuyu questioned her love live but Takamichi too and in the end she found out it was all a lie when she over heard what Hanma and Kisaki were saying right after they got info from Koko. She decided to break things off with Hanma on Christmas Eve but said they could still be friends, but of course a certain someone was still in love with her.

[nuhahani]

The Mourning Fields:

⚰️-Fluff 🤍-SWF 🪦-angst 💀- NSFW 18+ only

Elysium🤍⚰️

Acheron🪦

Succubus Den : 18+ ONLY 💀

All works here belong to @niko-ash reblog and likes are welcome. Plagiarism will result in your blog being reported and my works set to private only. All characters and their designs belong to Ken Wakui. I hope you enjoy my AU's

[just-one-more-beer]

“Are you ready?” Takemichi asked carefully as he looked at the closed double doors in front of them. Everyone had already gathered inside but he had insisted she would not be entering the room alone. He could almost hear her teeth rattle as she stood trembling beside him. They had prepared together and had been over what to expect, but he could understand the overwhelming feelings she was likely experiencing now. Inside were so many people she had known in multiple timelines. She witnessed some of them die multiple times too. Some had been eager to meet her, others had proven sceptical or even hostile. There was no saying how all of them would react to her knowledge about the past. Some had met her already, so the news about her origin had slowly spread throughout their ranks. Taiju had been kind enough to let them use one of the rooms in his venue for the meeting. It hadn’t officially opened yet but he had apparently dubbed this the final rehearsal before the grand opening in a couple of weeks. 

Yuuna shifted beside him as she heard Draken’s bellowing voice open the meeting inside. She had heard him do that so many times, but it had always been from a distance and never had she imagined she would be the one being called in. She looked up at Takemichi desperately as a strongly conditioned panic started to whirl in her chest, trying to convince her that this was unsafe.

---

Click the link on top to read!

Rating: Mature (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Relationships: Draken | Ryuuguuji Ken/Sano Emma, Kakuchou/Kurokawa Izana, Matsuno Chifuyu/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Tokyo Revengers Original Timeline, Angst, Alternate Timelines, Romance, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, dark impulse, Tokyo Revengers Manga Spoilers, Spice, What if they actually talked about their feelings?, All our favourites as young adults!

[asirensrage]

Saudade - Chapter 21

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: This chapter is a bit short in comparison to the others but it didn't feel right to end it anywhere else. Hope you don't mind. And I hope you enjoy the revelation as we look into the future again. Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. <3

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

Takara eventually pulls herself from the comfort of her bed because she needs to actually do something with the knowledge she gained. She throws on a pair of pants, a sports bra and one of the shirts she’s stolen from her dad and goes in search of Takemichi. 

What she finds is her brother sitting at the kitchen table, eating some meal that’s being handed to him by their mother. The woman looks at her and offers food but it’s slow, as if it’s an afterthought. 

“Why you starin’ at me?” Takemichi asks, staring at her in confusion. It’s not him. Not her brother. 

“Wondering when mom will admit you’re adopted,” she says automatically. 

“Takara!” her mother finally turns and acknowledges her. “Apologize!”

“What?” she shrugs before grinning at her younger brother. “For revealing the truth?” Her mother swats the towel towards her and she just laughs. 

“Least I’m not as ugly as you!” Takemichi snaps back.

“No, you’re uglier. Hinata must be blind.” 

“Takara!” her mother sounds scandalized and in the back of her mind, Takara notes how she defends Takemichi but not her. Never her. 

She rolls her eyes, the familiar feeling of not being enough churning her stomach. “Whatever.” She doesn’t stick around, grabbing a coat before she leaves. Takemichi didn’t even say bye…

✨

The Future

He doesn’t like this future. 

From Mistuya’s funeral to discovering everything that went to shit. His life was normal, familiar, but his friends…everyone was dead. Everyone. And Naoto is claiming it’s Mikey’s fault. That the Mikey who demanded flags in his food, who promised to look after his friends and be a pillar of support for them…killed them all. 

He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Takara before he left. She was gone and when she came home, she buried herself in her room. He tried to open the door, but it was locked and he stayed there, telling her goodbye. There was no response. 

He tried to call her here in the future, but the line was dead. Naoto said she hadn’t been seen in months, going missing long before the deaths started happening. Naoto thinks she’s dead but Takemichi knows that she arrived in his life just as fast. Fear eats at his chest, desperation running him ragged as adrenaline fuels him. He needs to know the truth. He needs to know that Mikey didn’t do this. That Takara is fine. She has to be fine. She has to still be there. 

Now he’s in the Philippines searching for Mikey in a junkyard because of a postcard. 

✨

For a moment, it feels like nothing’s changed. Mikey greets him like he’s done a thousand times, crouching on a pile of junk. He cries. He can’t help it. It’s such a relief to see Mikey in the future, in the flesh. He’s different. Tattooed with dark hair, but his voice is the same. His smile is the same. 

“Why did you leave Toman?” Mikey’s question stuns Takemichi. “I wanted you to stay with me like a big brother would.” Mikey looks to the sky. “Takara stayed but…not with me. She agreed with Ken-chin and Mitsuya. She wanted you safe.”

“Ta-Takara?” 

But Mikey doesn’t continue, instead, he explains a little further about the others until he admits, “I’m the one who killed them.” He looks at Takemichi. “I killed them all. That’s why I need you to stop me.” 

Takemichi stares at him in horror, only able to focus on one thought. “You…you killed my sister?” 

Mikey frowns slightly. “...no,” he admits. “She…” he hesitates, looking away. “I don’t know where she is. He took her.”

Takemichi blinks. “What? Who?” His mind runs with possibilities. The fear of losing his sister twists with the relief of knowing she’s still here. Somewhere. 

“It doesn’t matter. Kill me,” Mikey says, stepping off of the junk pile and walking towards him. “I want it to end here.” 

It devolves further. Mikey is insistent on dying by his hand and Takemichi can’t let it happen. He needs to know more! He needs Mikey to understand that he’s okay! 

But then he’s pinned by the other man, gun pressed against his temple and he tries to ignore the fear and the flashbacks of facing Kisaki with a gun…and Mikey is crying. They’re both crying. 

There’s a shot and Mikey falls. He dies in Takemichi’s arms, thanking him for the kindness and Takemichi thinks something breaks in him. Takemichi isn’t good at what he does, he keeps failing, but in this moment he knows he has to try. He can’t give up. Not on Mikey, not on Takara. 

He goes back, leaving Naoto in Manila. 

✨

She sits and stares at the calendar. He should be back by now. 

She takes a drag of the cigarette in her hand. She wonders if he’s looking for her, if he’ll give a shit. No one ever really gives a shit. No one except –

“Why are you sitting in the dark?” 

“Ambiance,” she answers automatically. She’s in mourning, not that she can admit it. She didn’t get to go to their funerals. Didn’t get to say goodbye to the men she was once friends with. Takara barely made this choice. It was thrust upon her before she was even aware of it. He had tried to warn her but it was too late by then. It’s always too late.

She looks up towards him. “I didn’t think you’d be back yet.”

“Something came up.” He bends down, tilting her face up with his fingers as he kisses her gently. His earrings brush her cheeks. He tugs on a loose lock of hair. A silent reminder that she needs to update it, that her roots are starting to show against the dyed blond.

 “I got some news.”

“Oh?” She asks, despite knowing better. She’s not curious. 

The last time he had news, it was about her friends being murdered. He had hidden her away before then, claiming it was for her protection. Trapped her in this house and cut off her lines of contact. Just for a little while, or so he said. She’s still waiting for her release. 

“Mikey’s dead.”

Her heart stops. “What?” she looks at him in alarm. “Mikey?” Mikey had promised her to keep Takemichi safe. He had promised her that he wouldn’t find him, that Kisaki would be kept away. The only reason she accepted the man in front of her was because of that promise. 

“Don’t worry,” he kisses her again, harder this time. A sign of ownership, desperation to control something now that he lost his puppet. She had watched from the sidelines as he manipulated everything. None of them stood a chance. “I’ll find his killer and deal with him. Personally. You’ll plan his funeral. Give him everything. He was ours.”

Her mind runs over the possibilities and what she can do next. Still, she answers as expected. “Yeah, Izana. I’ll take care of it.” 

✨

tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87 @hayatoseyepatch

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

saudade tag: @thisbicc @scythegal @maraya-007

network tag: @pixelcafe-network

[metranart]

Mikey x Reader x Draken (Tokyo Revengers)(Part 9)

Being a gang leader doesn’t leave a lot of free time and having hit the critical age of the hormonal teenager, Draken and Mikey are beginning to feel the raging urge of having some needs meet.

You end up ordering hot cakes and mint tea, Mikey orders a milkshake and waffles and Draken takes eggs, bacon and black coffee.

Silence follows when you all start to eat, only munching sounds and your loud thoughts can be heard. The three of you actually so hungry that your plates are empty in less than five minutes. 

These are the best hot cakes you have ever had! Or maybe you were that hungry, but whatever it was, you sigh satisfied and grin at feeling comfortable at least by the food.

Searching for the scarce remains of that comforting feeling, your finger slides across the porcelain plate to get the remains of honey you can.

You're usually not that messy but it's a little inevitable when these flavors are the only thing at the moment giving you certain kind of peace of mind.

A golden, honeyed drop rolls from your fingertip to your lips and then down your chin. Your tongue darts out to stop its journey down but it’s a second too slow.

Your gasp catches inside your lungs, and unrequested goosebumps raid your whole body when both blonds mercilessly attack you. 

Mikey's lips are the first thing you feel, in a chaste, gentle peck next to your lips, as if asking permission, even so, he doesn't wait as he always does and the next thing you feel is his velvety tongue, wet and warm, following the rebellious path of the honey drop, down your chin.

While Draken, for his part, yanks your wrist in the gentlest of pulls, like re-teaching your body to stretch. The tall gang member merely grins when your stares cross and even when your shocked expression screams of how unsettled you feel for what he is about to do, he still does it.

His mouth opens and your honey-coated index finger finds its way inside it. Those glossy lips close around the stoic digit and his tongue dances slowly, almost sensually lazy around the skin. Devouring the honey but mostly feeding on your blushing, nervous disposition, since his gaze never falters from yours. 

You gulp hard, having both blondes stick to a part of your body in public isn’t exactly what you ordered for breakfast and once clean, both reluctantly abandon their task.

Mikey gives one last smooch to your cheek as Draken pecks tenderly the pad of your finger, and soon both are using the sleeves of their uniforms to wipe off the rests of saliva from you. 

“—My milkshake was good…. But damn! How do you always manage to taste sweeter, darlin’?” 

Mikey’s cheeks are red, chest heaving, all the sign you don’t wanna see. 

“It-…. It isn’t me, Sano.” You reply swiftly as if trying to dissuade whatever thought might be inside that hormonal head of his, “… it was the honey what you tasted—” 

“Nah~” Draken butts in, “sure the honey was sweet, but nothing compared to your pussy...”

“Draken, shut it—” 

“Your pussy is…” Draken openly ignores you and keeps daydreaming, “fuck! Is my favorite flavor.”

“Stop, Draken!”

“I mean, if I could have as every meal, a full plate of your sweet, shaven—” 

Both your palms slap at his mouth to stop his next words, and you can hear Mikey burst out laughing. 

“Knock it off, Ken Ryuguji.” You scold him like a little child, and he merrily shrugs, nonchalant. 

Your face is beat red and your heartbeat a mess, a wild mix of emotions painting your whole face: embarrassment, anger, shock, uneasiness with a pinch of honeyed excitement…. You are not sure where the excitement comes from, but it surprises you to even feel it. 

You can feel Draken smirk under your hands and then his lips start kissing your palms making you recoil back, fast. 

The sub-commander chuckles. “Do that again.” He asks suddenly.

And putting your hands under the table on top of your thighs, you shake your negative. 

Mikey snickers at your sheepishness. “—I bet you thought I was the worst of the two,” the short blonde grins, “…. I’m a walk in the park compared to this one.”

He motions to his bestie and the tall teen stares back smugly, before repeat. 

“Do that again.”

You squint your eyes at him, “… it was a spurt of the moment—” 

“Nevertheless, do it again.”

You shake your head stubbornly and Draken narrows his eyes mischievously. 

“You have the sweetest PUSS—” 

His loud statement is cut short by your hands pressing again against his mouth, and Mikey can’t help but laugh, clutching his stomach while he amusedly enjoys Draken’s misbehaving. 

“God, it’s like dealing with a child in steroids!”

You complain a little fed up, but your outburst only makes Mikey laugh harder. Draken starts to say something, yet his words come out muffled, and he ends up licking your palm in order for you to let go. 

“Gross, Draken—” 

“Not Draken,” he points out, “Ken-… Ken Ryuguji.” He asks, and his heartfelt request slowly fades Mikey’s laughter into a curious grin. 

“Say my name, my real name…. Do it again.”

That’s what he meant before. His name, he wanted you to say his name. 

“I loved the sound of it,” Draken admits, “in your voice,” he continues, “tagging me as taken and owned since no one else is allowed to use that name apart from MY boy—” 

You raise an eyebrow and quickly Mikey lifts a finger to claim your attention, “I’m HIS boy.”

“… His boy.” You repeat more to yourself and a thousand memories of them flood your brain, from them eating each other’s mouths, to them jacking off, to them sucking, groping, kissing, fucki—

“Are you a couple?” you can't help but ask, “I mean…. since when are you a couple? I mean…does anyone know? .... Probably not, since no tough, gang member from Japan” you point out, “…would faithfully follow a homosexual couple-…sometimes we are such a closed-minded culture—” 

“We don't like men,” Mikey interrupts you, “…we like and are crazy about women.” The Toman leader states and soon adds, “—we have never and will never be with another man.”

You pout, doubts and questions reflecting in your features. 

Draken chuckles lightly, to then reach out to you and draw his knuckles gently over your creased forehead until it smoothens. 

“We don’t fancy cock,” the tall blond explains, “we fancy pus-…”

Your hand raises in warning and Draken giggles, ending up just mouthing the word without sound. So, you lower your hand.

“But I saw you-…” you remind them, “I saw you, kissing, touching and doing stuff to each other—” 

“Sure, Draken is mine and I’m his.” Mikey claims without shame. “We are each other’s exception.”

“-Then I’m just your plaything…” 

“NO.” They stress in unison. 

“You are OURS.” Draken is the one to speak first, “our girl, our soulmate, the missing part on our triangle…”

“Our future wife.” Mikey adds, swiftly. His black gaze set on you, to watch your reaction firsthand. 

You do your best to keep the shock down and under a serene facade of numb detachment, to then say as cold and indifferent as you can.

“I’m your actual cumdump and future sex slave—” 

“NO!” they say in unison one more time. Their voices sound strained as an angry beg.

“We love you-”

“DON’T say something you don’t mean,” you say in a fit, “it’s kind of a dick move, you don’t have to pretend,” your words stop them cold. “I already slept with you, I already did everything with you-…. you can cut the crap!”

There’s a solid awkward silence which would have linger there if it wouldn’t be interrupted by the waitress asking you if you needed anything else. You ask for the check and the silence permeates the booth until the check arrives. 

“—Like I promised yesterday, this one is on me… you know, for take me to the hospital and pay for it,” you take some bills out of a hidden pocket in your pants and place it on top of the table, “… and this-” you take another couple of bills, “is for the scarring sex, that way we can stop calling it rape,” you add in an icy, full of contempt tone, “… I won’t call the police on you and you won’t look for me again, we are even.”

Your voice is final, yet silence is the only response you get.

You sigh, unable to look them in the face, that way you can keep the tough act at float. 

“Excuse me, Sano.” You say to the immobile blond next to you, and to your utter surprise, he does move.

Standing up, Mikey offers you his hand to get out of the booth, yet you don’t take it but do thank for his chivalry to which he faintly nods.

Not a single word has come out of their mouths and somehow that uneased you, but whatever this strike of luck is, you are sure to take advantage of it. 

Sporting the same utter silence, the three stand still for a minute before starting to walk to the exit, when a better idea grazes your brain. 

“I’m going to pass to the restroom before go, wait for me here?” 

Both gang members merely stare at you in response. Those sharp gazes devoid of any recognizable emotions make you look away and at your feet instead, and a little more than shaken, you spin on your hills to go to the bathroom.

Once inside you check the door to confirm that they won't burst inside and once more at ease. You splash some cold water to your face to then look for a window.

“There.” You mutter mutedly when you finally find a way out of the nightmare. A small, yet big enough, window greets you from the last stall, and using the toilet as leverage, you glance back through your shoulder one last time to then sneak out.

Your little legs are the first thing to stick out the window, using your hands to support your weight before letting you fall to the floor of the alley hidden between the streets. Sound of people reach your ear, yet you ignore them.

Before your feet touch the hard ground a wave of happiness begins to invade you, God! You did it! You escaped from them…. You are so excited that your face feels numb and when you feel the soles of your boots touch the ground, you almost jump with excitement.

Crouched down, you close your eyes to enjoy the moment of victory, a victory that threatens to turn to ashes in your mouth when the sun bouncing off the walls of the alley is blocked by something large.

“Look guys, don't we know this cute little thing?”

You hear someone say in a familiar voice and turning around suddenly, your eyes widen in worry, as you encounter a faction of the gang, you defeated the night before.

The beaten and putrid face of the person who betrayed your gang and the Toman and unleashed all the conflict between gangs, smiles macabrely down at you while licking his lips. 

“You, little bitch,” the gang member spells slowly, “I’ve been looking for you. Yesterday I lost to you, but today I'm going to get even.”

The traitor's henchmen make a half circle, cornering you against the wall and blocking any escape route, your main enemy takes the center to be able to see you from the front and to delight in the terror your eyes show when he begins to unbutton his pants belt.

“First you are going to pay me for the beating,” his belt opens wide and now his fingers continue with the buttons of his pants, “then you are going to compensate me for my effort,” he lowers the zipper, “and once that you have that annoying mouth full of my cock and my cum slides down your beautiful esophagus, all of we are going to teach you that in gangs there is a rule that should never be broken," he takes out his vulgar cock, erect and swollen, and strokes it a couple of times, smearing drops of precum from the head all over the shaft, “No Girls Allow!”

This is your fucking luck! 

From your crouching position you scan the horizon and seeing a small space, you lunge towards it hoping to get away, but one of the boys catches you and pulls you back towards the center of the circle, scratching and kicking to no avail.

With no options left, you throw a punch, and a scream of pain paints the silence of the pleasant morning when the bandage wrapping your closed fist begins to turn red.

Even when that painful punch managed to take down one of the boys, and if it weren't for the incapacitating wound throbbing in your hand, you might have defeated the rest, you now that you are doom. You're so tired and exhausted, the little strength in you slowly fades as you fall to your knees hugging your hand to your chest.

“You fucking stuck-up bitch!” one of the henchmen shouts, kicking you in the stomach, “we are going to teach you how to behave!!”

Yanking you from the hair, he stands behind you and presents you to his leader once he has you subdued. “Go on, shove it all the way in, that's what this slut is good for.”

The insults and laughter do not wait, and you almost block your jaw by closing it so tightly.

“Open your mouth, so I can give you your breakfast.” The traitor mocks, swanking his junk in front of your face before slapping you with it. You almost open your mouth in gag reflection, at the disgust of feeling his warm, wet skin against your cheek. 

“Open your fucking mouth, scum.” Large, rough hands fixate on your jaw, trying to open it with violent and rough movements but you refuse, the pain is getting higher and higher, but you prefer it to swallowing what awaits you. “Come on, otherwise we're going to have to use another, tighter hole.”

Everyone laughs, some watching animatedly while others holding your hands to prevent you from hitting them. 

“Dibs on her ass.” You hear one say. 

“Oh man, I wanted her ass, well I’ll settle for her pussy.”

“Fuck that, I want to fuck her tits, look at those! So freaking big and plush!” 

All the stares fall on your breast, and you can almost hear them lick their lips, terror fills you to the point of desperation when one of them finally uses his brain. 

“Pinch her nose,” one suggests, “my mom used to do that to force me to eat when I didn't want to.” 

“Ten points for Gryffindor,” the traitor says, and one of his henchmen pinches your nose painfully tight. Air stops flooding your system, and everyone waits with bated breath, enjoying the way your face is starting to change color. 

“She has to open her mouth eventually, don't she?” one wonders, worry looming just a little, unable to wrap his head at how much you have lasted without air. 

“She's stubborn but she's not stupid,” the leader reaches out to smear the tip of his cock against your trembling lips. “Ready to suck me off?”

The air finally runs out and your lungs scream for oxygen, your mouth opens and tears of frustration fall down your cheeks when a loud crash is heard and you suddenly fall to the ground, gasping.

Your tear-filled eyes can't focus properly and you're too busy sucking in air to pay attention to anything else, but you definitely see what looks like a mass of black and gold, delivering out punches.

“Fuckin’ bastard, I’m going to kill ya!” 

Someone roars while entering running from the entrance of the alley, someone tall and big, and you can sense with half-numb ears and glassy eyes how all the boys attacking you are now a throbbing, bloody mass on the floor.

Thus, that enemy faction lies unconscious, pulverized and catatonic against the hard and dirty cement of the alley teased by some shy sun rays.

Mikey and Draken don't stop at that, they continue demolishing them with blows until the inert bodies are barely breathing. 

The gasps you hear from the two blondes are more of fury than real effort, they both heard your scream and entering the bathroom, they didn't find you.

Panic set in when Mikey, the only other one who was able to slide out the little window into the alley, saw that you were about to be assaulted.

Falling from the sky in front of you, like your angel of salvation, the blonde went crazy with anger, not even waiting for his lover, who had to go around the restaurant to get there.

Once the anger subsided a little, they were able to think again, and both ran to your side. Crouching next to your battered body, covered in bruises and a bleeding hand. 

“Damn it, her wound opened again.” Draken exclaimed, removing the shirt under his jacket to stop the bleeding.

“Let's take her to the hospital—” 

“And what money are we supposed to pay with, Mikey? Or we let them patch up her again and then sneak out using a bathroom window….” Draken's annoyed gaze falls prejudicially on you and your recent actions, and Mikey immediately tries to calm him down.

“No need for the sarcasm, man.” Mikey disapproves, “later we can discuss how to reprimand this disobedient kitten. I know! Let's take her to Mitsuya and Hakkai.”

The leader of the Toman suggests. "He’s good with this kind of wounds, plus Mitsuya is excellent at sewing-"

“Sweaters and dresses, not people!” Draken chimes, applying more pressure to your wound.

“Take me… home.” You suggest weakly, and they both look down at you.

“My older sister is a nurse,” you inform them, “she will help me for free, she is very good.”

The blondes don't seem convinced and soon the questions everyone harvest in their minds, pops out from Mikey’s mouth.

“Why didn't we take you to her yesterday?”

The blonde motions his head at the wound on your hand, which started it all, and you frown.

"She works in the private sector in Kyoto, just this morning she arrived home to-... just take me to her.”

Draken and Mikey share a look and it's like they're having an internal conversation. You see it in the way they look at each other, and finally reaching a secret agreement, they both nod.

The tall blonde rubs the back of his neck and the short one cracks his knuckles before saying.

“Fine, kitten.” Mikey shares, a sullen grimace on his face is soon replaced by a playful grin, “…let's meet the sister-in-law.”

COMING SOON PART 10....

⭕️ In my PATREON you will find NSFW art of this story and lots of NSFW content from Tokyo Rev and other popular anime, exclusive smut fanfiction and more.

[tomans-darlings-au]

Happy Birthday Sora Oshiro Toman's Darling

11/13

[cookies-are-nice]

Catalyst

Content : sibling drama(im an only child fyi), Happy Hanagaki family, Toman shenanigans (mikey x oc)

Auther's notes : I'll be posting a little bit less often, but I think this chapter is okay.

Chapter 3 : Misunderstandings

-ˋˏ ❀ * ‧₊˚* ੈ‧₊*❈꧁🥀꧂❈ * ੈ‧₊* *₊°❀ ˎˊ-

Sachiko threw her school bag on her bed and quickly hopped in her shower. Although the shower she took was a good one, she remained in the bad mood she carried home from her terrible day.

The poor girl forgot her English homework at home, so the teacher gave her a scolding. And to add to that, She got a 6/10 on her math exercise paper because her classmates were distracting her and her favourite teacher was disappointed with her. Furthermore, her wallet was nowhere to be found so she had to skip both breakfast AND lunch cause she had to stay back for detention. The detention was caused by a friend of hers, accidentally breaking a vase. Rose took the blame for her, except she didn't expect to starve the whole time. And then, she had to run home in the rain because she forgot her phone was charging at home and she couldn't call her driver.

The exhausted teen got dressed, dried her hair off and face-planted on a fluffy, comfortable bed. Nothing could've separated her from the bed at that point. Nothing except for the fact that her younger sister was still at the kindergarden. (I refuse to give her a break, the X from MHA didn't get a break you don't either SAYA INSAN ADIL)

Without hesitation, she shot up from her bed and called her driver. When she arrived at her sister's kindergarten, Sachiko asked her sister's teacher where little Yumi was. The teacher said that someone had already picked her up. Thinking her sister had been kidnapped, Sachiko rushed back home only to find that Takemichi had already picked Yumi up. Letting out a sigh of relief, she ran toward Yumi and hugged her.

"OH thank goodness! I thought something bad happened to you!" Sachiko cried out squeezing her 6-year-old sister.

"Heh, I figured you were staying back at school so I picked her up instead, sorry for giving you a scare." Takemichi timidly spoke.

"Thanks Takemichi, though, you had me thinking Yumi had been kidnapped for one second."

Sachiko turned to face Takemichi and noticed fresh bruises and cuts on his face. She told Yumi to go to her room. Once she was sure Yumi couldn't hear, she spoke.

"Again? This is the 3rd time you've come home like this idiot,"

"I know I jus-"

"No, No, you don't, " She interrupted. "You aren't telling me what happened nor are you fixing it. I need you to take this seriously"

"I am"

"NO! Time and time again you've come back like this and yet every single time I ask you, you brush it off and deny it!" She yelled at her brother. "What the hell do i do about this?!"

"I've told you, nothing! I'm sorting it out!"

"Damn it! Just let me help!"

"You don't need to help, I'm fine!"

"YOU-"

"I'M NOT LIKE HIM SACHIKO!"

Rose's eyes widened at that name, ah, she sure hasn't heard that name in a long time. After realising what he had said, Takemichi quickly apologised.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to say that"

"No, you're right, you're not like him," She shot back. "you're far worse."

Taken aback by his sister's words, he softly asks her. "w-what do you mean?"

"Our father was a determined man. Despite that, he had always lacked something-kindness. You have a heart of gold Takemichi, you always h put yourself before others, constantly endanger yourself, " She takes a breath before continuing. "I'm scared that I'll lose you too..."

Tears started to well up in Sachiko's eyes.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, it's just," She sobs. "-been a really hard day."

A tear crept down her face. Takemichi, not knowing what to do, takes her into a hug. Pulling away from the hug first, Sachiko says, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being a good brother."

Smiles made their way onto the siblings faces. While the two were enjoying the embrace, the door to Yumi's room creaked open. Out came the 4-year-old child, squeezing her blanket.

"Oh Yumi, did we scare you?" She pulls away from the hug to look at her little sister. The small child nodded and ran towards her siblings.

"Sorry Yumi, we didn't mean to..." After hearing her older brother's apologies, she raised both her hands, gesturing for Takemichi carry her. The clueless boy turned to Sachiko for help but only got a mocking chuckle paired with an evil smile in return.

"I'm not helping you! It's your turn to do Yumi-duty this time, goodnight~" Sachiko teased, quickly retreating into her room before her brother decides to ditch their little sister duty again.

She slept well, the soft sounds of silence lulling her to rest. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite so lucky the following morning.

"ACHỌÔŒÓÖ"

"BLESS YOU???"

Takemichi phrased, unsure whether that was a sneeze or not.

"than 'kyou" Sachiko said wiping her nose with a 5-ply tissue she had recently bought specifically to treat Takemichi's injuries.

"I think I'm si- ACHÓŐÛÚĔƏĂÂÔŒØŐĂỊŮĘÖ"

"WHAT THE FU-"

"-sick," Sachiko hurried to complete her sentence. "running in the rain doesn't seem like such a good idea to me anymore,"

Takemichi, still shocked by the fact that the demonic sound came from his sister, got up from the breakfast table to get a thermometer. Sachiko remained cuddled up on the sofa scrolling on her phone. Once her brother came back with the tool, he took her temperature. The thermometer showed a whopping 39.8°C.

"W-WHAT?!"

"what"

"YOU'RE GONNA DIE!!"

"IM GONNA WHAT?!"

"OH NO OH NO OH NO"

"GIVE ME THE GODDAMN THERMOMETER"

The sick girl snatched it out of her brother's hand and saw the temperature her body was in. Of course, having absolutely no experience in this matter, the siblings called the emergency number. Sadly, the emergency respondent told them to "give her panadol" and hung up.

In their state of panic, the two delicate snowflakes decide on calling Hinata. Takemichi ran to get his phone and was now talking to hinata in another room. Fortunately, Hinata was a normal person with a normal life and gave them normal advice. Rose took some fever medicine and was transported to her bed to rest.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Takemichi opened the door and was met with the faces of the founders of Tokyo Manji Gang.

"Takemichi!" The leader of Toman whined.

"OH? Why are you all here?" The confused boy questioned his friends.

"Oi Takemichi where the hell were you?" Draken shot a question of his own.

Coming to a a realisation, Takemichi quickly apologised. "OH NO! I forgot about the hangout, I'm Sorry! (⋟﹏⋞)"

"Takemichi how could you be so forgetful!" Mikey, very ironically, accused Takemichi.

"You're one to talk," Draken called his best friend out on his hypocritical behaviour.

"I'll kick your as-" His threat was interrupted by a feminine voice shouting, "Takemichi!"

The group of boys went silent when they heard the voice coming from Sachiko's room. Takemichi couldn't think of anything else to do, except to stand there, frozen.

"...Was that Hinata?"

"Uh, no bu-"

The atmosphere became serious almost instantly. The eyes in the room stared him down as if they were ready to pounce at Takemichi if he says the wrong thing. The poor boy's brain gave up on thinking as he was trying to find an answer that wouldn't earn him a kick to his head or a punch to his face.

Draken, tried of the silence, questioned, "Then who was that?"

Suddenly, the door to Sachiko's bedroom swung open. Out came a girl, wearing a crop top and shorts, though her body showed no signs of injury, she looked pale and lethargic.

"Takemichi, Where is my water?"

Once Rose saw the group of boys surrounding her brother, her flight-or-flight response had been activated. The girl looked at her brother, then back at the group, Not knowing their intentions, she took half a step back, retreating into her room.

"And who is this Takemichi?" the boy with blonde hair asked while eyeing here down suspiciously.

Sneaking a glance at her brother's expression,

Takemichi no longer had any worry or panic on his face, instead, it was replaced with an embarrassed one. After her suspicions were cleared, Rose started to calm down.

"I'm Takemichi's sister, Sachiko. Who might you be?"

Mikey, shocked at her statement, blurred out, "...sister?"

"We're Takemichi's friends and we've come to pick him up for a hangout." thankfully, Draken was the only sensible one and explained first.

Her brother had an expression that could be considered the prime example of relief. Most of their group looked dumbfounded while the others looked embarrassed.

"Oh, I see. Then, don't let me be a bother!" Sachiko no longer felt threatened by their presence, so she shoved her brother our the door, "Takemichi go."

"i-uh-wait-no-but-you-wait-"

"nonono you go hang out, I'll be fine"

She quite literally 'pushed' her brother to hang out with the friends of his.

"Thank you very much Sachiko-san." (chifuyu)

The polite boy took a bow and all of the exited the house quickly.

"Huh, they were surprisingly polite,"

Sachiko said to herself before taking a sip of the water she requested so many times. She looked out of their house window and saw her brother joking around with his friends. She was about to go back to bed but not before she noticed "Tokyo Manji Gang "imprinted on one of Takemichi's friend's jacket. The boy had a short figure and blond hair tied up halfway.

"He seems quite familiar...Have I met him before?"

Oh you sweet child, you have, so many times before.

I'm following most of the tr plot but I'm changing a little bit (I'm not letting anyone die)

[cheesus-doodles]

Hi, I've been following your profile for a long time, but just now I had the courage to ask this. Could you make a headcanons list about the boss? I always wanted to know more about her. Feel free to skip this question if you want ♡︎

kjsnfdkjnfskjdfs thank you for sticking around! ahh i'm so happy that there are kind folks out there interested in boss :') ofc! have some hcs ^^ these are just some general HCs that i keep in mind when writing boss - nothing too specific - but please feel free to ask anything if you want to know more! (and have a lil blurb about Boss and Furu meeting at the end!)

‎

Don't Look Back in Anger | Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

‎‎

Boss HCs

Red Dragonflies AU

all around in general a kind soul that looks out for those around her be it in personal or gang life, trying to help out whoever she can whenever she can if the person had done her no wrong

gets protective over her gang, more so over her Reds and her Toman friends, and especially so over those that she granted her protection to (cough Izzy)

though Boss is a forgiving person to begin with - only really gets angry when someone she cares about is hurt to get to her or when those she love are insulted

very attentive to her friends, picking up any changes in mood or expression with ease, asking after them whether there was anything she could do to help

yet at the same time a very very oblivious girl

will not get any hints and will dismiss any hearsay about anyone liking her despite clear signs - basically unless outright told by said person, Boss will not get it, and even if she does, good chance she will be in denial

does not work well for shyer folks (poor Koji really)

in her personal life, school takes up a large portion of her time and life like every other student her age; school work still ranks highly on her list of priorities despite all the ongoings around her, and she puts in effort to do to the best of her ability

the Reds had previously been barred from entering her school compound on the promise of a very painful weekend of chores unless in an emergency

though she had somewhat relaxed that rule in recent times given her Toman friends' wandering ways - not particularly fair if she held her Reds to a different standard

the one thing that has never changed is Boss being very, very strict when it comes to the rules of her house and the house etiquette expected from her guests, more so if they are a more permanent resident

there is a certain way that food must be kept, rooms must be cleaned, and laundry must be done, and no one is exempt from that

you will do it to her exacting standards or no home-cooked food for you

even her older brother once feared her rule over the house enough to comply, and no matter how much your poor Reds cared about your safety, none of them could quite keep up with your requirements

needless to say Furu of all people is scared shitless of the threat of being moved into her guestroom against his will

poor boy fears nothing except that, and Boss knows it well

the Toman founders somewhat skirted the rules by only staying the night, though no doubt some of them (cough Kazutora) would be desperate enough for your affection to force themselves to abide

but outside of house rules, Boss really does enjoy pampering her friends; always down for anything and everything they want to do, and that friend that would prepare and bring everyone’s favourite snacks on every outing

her favourite activity by far would be attending carnivals and festivals, with all its lights and sounds and cheery atmosphere

also reminds her a lot of her past; back when her brother would bring her to the various temple festivals to play and eat, or when she and Izana would wile away countless nights hiding from their responsibilities

although young, cooks like a grandma with 60 years of cooking under her belt would - her food would warm anyone up much like a good hug at the end of a long, hard day would

always cooks extra too, since never know when a few more of her boys would decide to drop in

gang life wise, sits at the top of the hierarchy of the Reds and generally doesn't get involved much with the day-to-day running of the gang - that work and any paperwork that come with such a large structured organization is usually shared by the Wings (given Furu's general incompetency at, well, life)

really only gets involved in incidents that affects the whole gang or more serious incidents that require her involvement to resolve or her web of connections to very important people

doesn’t lie, doesn’t like people lying to her - as long as you ask the right questions, Boss will tell you nothing but the truth and the absolute truth

but she will not spill anything unprompted; information is power after all

loves to take the time to get to know everyone of her gang - has a scarily good memory when it comes to people, one only needs to tell something to Boss once for her to remember that fact about them

an absolute beast when it comes to negotiations and mediations; has always been the choice for go-betweens before gangs come to blows should they personally request her help to step in

and of course for a a hefty fee, since her gang doesn't run on empty

a stickler for rules and procedures, especially when it comes to big, important meetings such as the meeting of gang leaders - hates to deviate from tried and tested ways given delinquents being delinquents would try to use any excuse to start a conflict

though strength-wise Boss doesn't actually bring much to the table compared to the rest of her inner circle; she’s only about as strong as Koji without fighting alongside Furusawa

had learned to fight a bit from her older brother, but just enough to defend herself - most of what she knows about fighting was taught to her by Furu after she became friends with him

like the rest of the Reds’ executives, she holds a part-time job that she juggles between school and gang life - none are allowed to live off just the gang budget, and the same rules applies to her

has

in terms of her past, none of the Reds' leadership had a particularly good or normal childhood, and the same goes for Boss - was given up by her parents when she was a baby, only for her older brother and only sibling to step up and take her in despite being a gang leader himself

brother tried his best to raise her, but Boss had to grow up quickly and learn to hold her own since her brother was busy

after her brother’s death, she lived alone for a few months before finding Furusawa and then Hase

always blamed herself, and vowed to never let anyone else around her go through what she did

completely soft when it comes to Izana and anything he does - has always forgiven him no matter what he put her through against the advice of her Reds

partially because of her associating him with ties to her older brother and her nostalgia, partially because of her emotional reliance on him

was just so lovesick after she was forced to part ways with Izana by Hase and Koji after he landed her in hospital, it took Boss a good amount of time to move on

also eventually contributed to why she decided to resign from the gang and leave the first time

her hands aren’t particularly the cleanest either, unlike what Toman likes to believe - there are just things that must be done when running a gang of the Red Dragonflies' size

not to mention the sway Izana had and still has on her

‎

"That doesn't look right."

Furusawa blinked, looking up. He didn’t remember leaving any of those annoying high schoolers conscious. though it seemed his initial assumptions were wrong when you were quickly revealed to be the source of the voice, doe eyes peering over at his math worksheet. Dressed in an elementary school uniform complete with hat, you were an admittedly nice contrast to the punching bags in high school uniforms Furusawa had fun beating up earlier (he was procrastinating, so what?), though you did sound like you knew your stuff despite being so small. “It’s not?” He asked incredulously, squinting back down at the numbers - he did think it looked rather correct.

Overhead, the sky was a gentle pink and orange, a unspoken herald to the end of the day, with the heat of the scorching afternoon finally giving way to a cool evening. The groans of pain from the pile of boys many years his age a stone's throw away didn't bother you in the slightest, your delicate finger reaching out to point at the first and only equation he had managed to fill in the past hour.

But unlike them, it seemed that you weren't here to laugh at him for being held back at school again or attempt to push him around (he put them in their place real quick) - you were genuine. "Nope. Come on, I'll show you."

Wandering over to the nearby sandpit, the blunt branch you picked up held loosely in one hand, you waved him over as you squatted by the edge of the pit, your school skirt falling neatly over your knees. "You carry over 1 to the front when it crosses 10 right?"

His footsteps were heavy, the loose mix of sand and dust puffing up as the boy trodded over. Nodding as he sat down beside you with a huff, the tip of your stick traced out something he knew into the soft sand, '16+9'. "I got that part alright."

"Right." You scribbled another equation below the original. "So let's say we have three numbers now."

Writing '168+76+21' in a fresh, undisturbed patch of the pit, all it took was one glance back at Furusawa's furrowed eyebrows to know that the other was already lost.

"If it looks intimidating, you can always break them down into two equations. First, 168+ 76. 6 plus 8 makes 14, but you have to carry over the 1."

You wrote 244 underneath the two numbers, looking back to check if he was following, to which you received a quick nod. No problems here. "Then we add the remaining 21 to this. Which will be?" You prompted, the stick stopping shy of writing any further answers into the send.

The already infamous underworld fighter scratched the back of his head. "...265?"

"Correct!" You puffed up, and Furusawa found himself slightly taken aback at the pride in those doe eyes of yours. You were proud...of him? A strange feeling of warmth lighted in his chest - he didn't think that someone else had ever been proud on his behalf before. But far from being done, you stood, dropping your stick to the side and dusting yourself off before tugging at the sleeve of his school uniform to walk with you. "I find that real world examples work the best."

A caw of a crow from above broke the stillness of the now-empty park, with just the last food cart left along the equally quiet street, the visibly weary employee perking up and jumping into action as you placed your order.

"So let's say we want to buy two strawberry cream crepes that cost 512 yen each." Pointing at the menu which you couldn't quite reach yet, Furusawa dutifully followed your finger to the price on the board. "How much would that be?"

"But that's multiplication." He protested - he wasn't good at that!

"True, but at the same time, it's also addition. 512 times 2 can also be written as 512 plus 512."

A pause, and you could see the gears turning in the other's head. "So the total is...1024 yen!"

"That's right!" Digging into your pockets, the slight jingle of metal as you pulled out a small pile of coins. "And how would we get to that amount with these coins?"

You allowed him to ever so gingerly pick out the money from your palms, pointing out the small and decreasing number of errors as the boy added the total out loud.

Taking the amount from Furusawa's open palm, he watched as you tiptoed to put the money on the vendor's coin tray, though you still missed your mark, the coins ending up in a splatter on the edge of the metal counter.

"Here." Lifting you up delicately by your waist - almost as if a crystal glass - it allowed you to quickly sweep the scattered coins and place them neatly into the coin tray, at the same time receiving back the two completed crepes.

You thrusted one at him. "One for me and one for you!"

"Mamoru Furusawa." He dipped his head slightly as he accepted the crepe from your tiny hand.

Blinking, your mouth dropped into a small O-shape as the realization hit you; you forgot to introduce yourself! Your name instantly spilling out in a hurry, you quickly dipped your head back, before your thoughts turned towards something else. "Furusawa-san? Can I just call you Furu?"

The newly nicknamed Furu shrugged. He didn't quite mind it from you, he supposed. But the niggling curiosity had yet to fade, and taking an enormous bite from his sweet treat, the boy turned once more to face you - a small, fragile kid next to a beast like him. "Are you not scared of me?" There was no doubt he could have snapped you in two with just one hand, yet there hadn't been any hesitation when you waltzed up to a stranger doing homework next to beaten boys of all things.

"Why should I be?" Humming, you nibbled on a corner, the whipped cream topping smearing on your nose. "You haven't done anything to me, have you?"

That was true, Furu mused as he munched, half of the remaining crepe disappearing into his mouth - he wouldn't dream of hurting you after you had helped him so much with his math. And bought him food. That was a double win in his eyes. "Can we be friends?"

You cocked your head in a curious lilt, though your eyes lighting up betrayed your excitement. "I don't see why not." Raising your crepe to him in a cheers, your soft lips broke out into a smile. "Friends it is!"

[darkmermaidao3]

Chapters 21 and 22 of The Haitani Princess are up on AO3!

Link below ⬇️

Excerpt from Chapter 21

“Your room still the same?” Kazutora questioned, her eyes did roll at that; it’d definitely changed since the last time he’d been in it.

“Some stuff is still the same.” She replied easily; she’d worry about all that other shit later, she couldn’t let overthinking ruin their precious time together. “Bigger bed now, got these cool canopy curtains over it.”

“So, a princess bed?” he drawled teasingly; she threw a glance back at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Cut that shit out, I’m not-“

“You’re totally a princess Rei.” He cackled pleasantly, a grin on his lips; an irritable huff left her, she should’ve known the first time he called her that years previously that he’d never stop. “So, stop pretending that you don’t like it when I call you one.”

“Dumbass.” She retorted, her voice thick with annoyance; her eyes lit up when she went around the corner to enter the den, immediately dropping to her knees to collect the kitten when she noticed him. “Hi baby, how’s my sweet boy? I missed you.”

Tora’s big yellow eyes were darting between her and the teenager standing behind her, soft little mewls coming from him as he inched close enough for her to scoop him up from the floor, cradling him against her chest while he pressed a paw to her nose in boop. She giggled quietly, moving back to her feet as she nuzzled her nose against the kitten’s lovingly, more soft mewling coming from him.

“Who’s my sweet boy? Totally you, right baby?” Reina gushed, her tone uncharacteristically girly. “Not mean like Kazu huh?”

“Rude.” The dark-haired boy chuckled, sounding playful; she side-glanced through the curtain of yellow when he stepped up next to her, his free hand moving to hover at the kitten’s face to be checked out. “When’d you get a cat?”

“Few weeks ago, Baji found a bunch of them when he was walking home from school one day.”

Link for Chapter 22 ⬇️

Except from Chapter 22

He pulled his phone from his pocket without a second thought, flipping it open and went to press the key to speed dial her saved number, his onyx eyes narrowing when it shut unexpectedly.

“Need to call Rei-chan, Ken-chin.” Mikey spoke calmly.

“No damn way, we’re gonna talk about this shit Mikey and you’re not dodging it this time.” The vice commander retorted, his voice stern; his head tilted back almost robotically, finding both Draken and Mitsuya staring him down with identical expressions.

“Rei-chan’s worried right now, need to call her.” He repeated, holding his composure.

“Mikey, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and expect us not to ask questions.” The lilac-haired teenager retorted, his tone even; he did understand that, but the questions could wait until after he called Reina. “You weren’t bullshitting them.”

“I wasn’t.” he agreed simply, his expression serious.

“Told you before that you needed to face this shit and you decide to do it today? Of all the days you could’ve picked to admit that you love her, it had to be today?” the taller blonde pressed, sounding pissed to high heaven. “That could’ve bit us in the ass, why the hell would you tell them that?”

“We got the truce, didn’t we?” he questioned, a blank stare on his face. “He wasn’t going to budge without my confession, Rei-chan being my wifey wasn’t enough for Ran.”

“If this hadn’t been a neutral zone Rindou would’ve come at us.” Draken followed up, his tone still just as irritable.