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yokohamabeans · 2 years ago

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Chapter 5: cowherd and weaver

We know how the story ends: in all versions of it, the crane leaves her lover in tears.

(In which: Kakuchō meets you at his worst. Eight years later, you meet him at yours.)

Pairings: Kakuchō x F!OC/Reader (ft. Haitani Ran x F!OC/Reader)

Series Tags / TW & CW / Notes: Dark/Mature Themes, Bonten!Timeline (or rather, pre-Bonten / Rise of Bonten Era), TR Manga Spoilers, Angst & Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Organized Crime, Blood & Violence, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Japanese Culture, OC will have a name but this will largely be written in 2nd POV, Character Study, Hostessing & Forced Prostitution, etc.

(WC: ~7.5k)

Series Index | Read on AO3 here!

The summer heat peaks with each passing day. There’s a sheen of sweat on your skin and you worry that even with the air-conditioning turned all the way up, this junky old van will not get any cooler. Discomfort you can bear with, but not the risk of Pierre suffering a heat stroke. His panting is becoming rather noisy and short-nosed dogs like him run hot easily—though perhaps his loud heaving ought to be pinned on the excitement of riding shotgun, watching other cars and buildings and people whiz by. You give his soft, floppy ears a fond rub and ask him to relax.

You never wanted Pierre. But like a seed he’d been blown in by the wind, and you just couldn’t bring the axe down on this sprout that had taken root in your life. He was a gift from a customer: Yamamoto-san had asked to meet at a café and, to your surprise and horror, pulled a puppy by its scruff out from a bag. It was the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen—it had a face that caved into its massive head at the nose and bulbous eyes that were set so far apart it couldn’t even look straight. Girls love cute pets, right? How Yamamoto–san thought he could win your affections by dumping such a burden on you is still a mystery till this day. Clearly, he didn’t think much of an animal’s life. But because he was spending just enough at Murasaki, your only choice was to take the hideous pest off his hands. You excused yourself and headed for the pet shop immediately.

I’d like to make a return, you told the staff at XJ Land, setting the little runt down. I can’t care for it.

Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you got him. The man at the counter barely hid his disdain. Sorry, but this isn’t a place for fickle returns.

Someone gave it to me—I didn’t ask for this. You didn’t appreciate his tone but you understood the sentiments behind it. You matched his face to some pictures on the shelves behind and concluded that he owned the shop. C’mon, Matsuno-san, you read from his name-tag, cocking your head in the way that guaranteed you another round of drinks from your clients. I’m just thinking about what’s best for this dog. He’ll be better off back in those arms of yours… Won’t you take him in? Can’t you consider it a favour?

The young man sighed, muttering something extreme under his breath about how humans deserve nothing good, but picked the puppy up with blushing cheeks nonetheless. Do you have the certificate of ownership? Or the receipt?

Well, no, you replied rather sheepishly, I was simply told this is the shop he’s from.

He shook his head and inspected the tiny dog in an attempt to identify it. You couldn't help but notice that even though he was being perfectly gentle and careful, the animal was frightened to its bones from being handled by yet another stranger. It bore its sad, pathetic eyes into yours, as if trying to worm its way into your heart. Too bad, you almost sneered, but that old trick won't work on me.

And yet, you couldn't look away.

Sorry, lady, but he isn’t from my shop, Matsuno finally said. You’ll need to check with whoever bought him again. Or better yet, why don’t you give him a chance?

I can’t take care of a pet in my life now. But neither could you risk offending Yamamoto-san, though your respect for him had all but vanished. Are you sure he isn’t from here?

I know every single one of my pets, and I only have pedigrees so far. He tried to calm the puppy down with a hug. This little guy looks like a Jatzu.

It was still shivering. What’s a Jatzu?

A cross between a Japanese Chin and Shih Tzu, he answered, then sized you up and ventured: It’s a ‘designer’ dog, if you care about that sorta thing. You couldn’t blame him for his assumption because you knew how you appeared with your dress and make-up.

This dog doesn’t look anything like a Shih Tzu, you retorted. Your mother used to talk about keeping one in her village a long, long time ago, so you were aware of the breed. Looks like pure Chin to me. How can you tell?

Your question lifted the frown off Matsuno, who fortunately took it as a sign of interest rather than an accusation. He proceeded to demonstrate by pointing out the length of its body and shortness of its legs. Something about the texture of its coat too. The more he spoke, the brighter his blue eyes shone, and soon it became too late for you to stop him from sharing everything he knew about the dog. By the time he remembered to breathe, he’d delivered a full pitch about why you should bring it home. Even you had to admire how hard he was trying to sell a product that wasn’t even his in the first place.

Did you know? Both the Chin and Shih Tzu were once treated as royal pets in East Asia, he added excitedly. The Shih Tzu were especially precious to the Chinese for bringing good luck and fortune. See this white patch between his eyes? That’s where the Buddha kissed him. That makes him a blessed dog who’ll protect you from evil!

What a load of bull. If that were true, your mother never would’ve met your father. Your aunt, who presumably shared the same dog in their village, would've won more than she lost at every casino she went to. Your life could've turned out entirely different—maybe you wouldn't even exist! This misfortune is intergenerational. You’ve got a pretty useless cousin somewhere, huh? you thought wryly at the mutt, catching its pitiful gaze again. Trust me, pal, you don’t want in on my life. There’s nothing good for you here.

It gave a small whine, which you'd liked to think was mere coincidence, and Matsuno ran a soothing palm over its massively deformed head. It really was an ugly dog. You simply couldn’t find anything adorable about it. In fact, it was a painful sight, looking like it was bred to suffer. Its marbly eyes were always watery, likely from the discomfort of sticking so far out its skull, and it was hard to fathom how it could eat or drink from its flat face without choking. Even breathing must've been a chore with how squashed its nose was! And this was a designer dog, wasn’t it? So, this anatomical tragedy was by design, by fancy!

You could empathise now: this poor creature was born to live out a nightmare. All because a couple of humans wanted something to love. An existence so wantonly bestowed!

Sucks, doesn’t it? you felt like saying. Before you knew it, your heart had gone out to it completely.

Tell you what, onē-san. A man sidled up to Matsuno and slung an arm over his shoulder. A tattoo peeked out from his turtleneck. We’ll let you leave him here if you also leave us your LINE. How about that?

Dude! Matsuno hissed. You’re at work!

What? Don’t we need someone to call if anything goes wrong? The other young man smirked deviously, the mole below his right eye bending. Man, you have no sense for business. Here you are, getting a fancy new dog to sell at zero cost, and you're turning it away.

Seriously, if you don't shut the hell up—

Matsuno never got to finish his threat. Without thinking, you had taken the puppy off his hands. Strange. It didn’t feel so warm and soft when you were holding it before. It stilled upon your touch, wagged its skinny tail and seemed to grin victoriously while it panted. I’ve got you now! it’d probably like to say. Don’t you think we can make each others’ lives better? And just like that, you caved in like rotting wood.

A blessing, huh? you said, giving a small tap on its wet, sputtering nose. I guess I’ll take your word for it, Matsuno-san—

The red flash of a traffic light hits your eyes and your van groans to a halt.

“Say, Pierre-kun, you're running out of food. Why don't we make a stop by XJ Land after this?" you offer, to which the dog barks happily in agreement. It's amusing how much of a personality he's grown since you both left the pet shop that day. "If you and I really go at it, we can make Matsuno-san give us a discount."

While pedestrians are still gliding across your windscreen, you turn to the back of your van to check the boxes left in it: only a couple more to drop off at—you quickly consult your phone—Chiyoda Ward. You succumb to a groan.

Chiyoda is a little out of your way, so there will be less time you can spend at the store before you must head for Murasaki. The bigger problem at hand, though, is that the packages are due at Marunouchi district in Chiyoda, where most of your clients from the club work at. Things will get sticky if any one of them is to spot you unloading boxes from your van. It won't take them long to figure out the kind of day job you hold. You’re supposed to deliver fantasies and dreams, Mama will seethe, not online purchases or some hikikomori’s second lunch! She may even throw in a slap for good measure. Murasaki does not forbid its girls to moonlight—god knows that some of you need to—but Mama has driven her contempt for it into everybody’s heads. Men climb mountains to see the tennyō who live in heaven, you once heard her telling a girl who no longer works at the club. Do you think they’ll still do so if they can just find one at a fucking Seven-Eleven, cashing in their change? Do you think they’ll even want to anymore?

Well, that much you must agree with Mama. Utsu and Yū and the women of Murasaki aren’t supposed to exist in the real world. But with the lion’s share of your salary going to her and the Mara-kai, you needed a second job, and a girl clutching only a high-school diploma didn’t have many options. Service jobs like store-keeping or waitressing were out of the question—you will never have the strength to deal with human beings all day and all night.

You were drawing crosses on job listings when a delivery man rang your door to hand you some toys you’d bought Pierre, and you noticed he wasn't wearing a uniform. Yes, m’am, anyone can do freelance delivery, the young man answered with a blush, demonstrating on his phone how you can start. Shortly after, you bought a minivan for cheap at a second-hand dealer and ever since, you’ve been driving around the city and ringing doorbells on your afternoons. The payout is just enough to cover your meals and utilities, but there isn’t much to complain about: you get to work on your own hours (or not), and with the company of your dog. Really, the only fly in the ointment is the worry of someone asking if you also work at Murasaki—but you figure you can slip under the radar with drab clothes and a bare face.

As you turn into the grove of steel towers and skyscrapers, your glove box buzzes with a ring. Your stomach drops when you remember that it's where you kept your work phone—the one you use for Murasaki. Shit. Were you somehow already seen? Did some passer-by catch a glance while crossing before your van? Fuck! You'll never hear the end of it from Mama. The old shrew may even take a bigger cut off your earnings as punishment! Suddenly, you are stricken with regret. You should have cancelled those bloody requests when you had the chance!

"What a coincidence, Yamamoto-san," you answered, disguising your nervous voice as a coy one. Yamamoto-san is a director at a financial firm, so you know his office is in the area. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh, hey, Utsu.” He sounds a little curt, like he's still figuring out the best way to confront you. “Really? What are you doing now?”

The red light turns green, and you find an alley to pull over at. “I’m just at the pet store with Pierre-chan, which was why you crossed my mind.”

“Right. Anyway, listen. What’s going on at Murasaki?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mama-san just told me she’s cancelling our appointment on Tanabata. My friend—Sawada, you’ve met him—got the same call too for his date with Aoi. What’s this about?”

Your delivery job is still in the bag! But what Yamamoto-san has said is too puzzling for you to enjoy the relief. It's come out of the blue entirely. "I wasn't informed. Is there a mistake? As far as I know, you're still my eight o'clock on the seventh."

"No, we even got a message about it in black and white. Don’t you women communicate?”

"You must be really important to Murasaki if Mama's told you this before me." That utter cow! Leaving a mess like this to clear! You're curious about the reason behind these sudden cancellations. Concerned. But still you decide not to ask to avoid stoking Yamamoto-san's fire. "I apologise for this. I'll check with her. I trust that she's also offered you some sort of compensation?"

"Yeah… Store credit for a half-hour session."

"I'll throw in some Yamazaki too, how about that?"

"Fine. Make it an 18-year bottle at least."

You roll your eyes at Pierre. This old fogey must be out of his depth if he thinks he's worth that much. Still, you agree just so you can hang up quickly. The bartenders at Murasaki will know how to swap it with something cheap.

"Utsu, the free whiskey is nice and all, but what I really wanted was to spend Tanabata with you, you know?" he added in a cottony tone. "It's a night for lovers, after all."

"That makes the both of us, Yamamoto-san," you say, instead of suggesting that he spends it with his goddamn wife. "I'm so sorry, but Pierre-chan's getting frisky with another dog. I'll contact you again to reschedule, alright? Goodbye!"

Pierre lets out an indignant huff, and you pet his head in apology for using his name so unjustly.

You remember to breathe again. It’s not too much of a mystery when you think about it: Aoi pulls in the most sales for Murasaki and you come up second—some fat cat must’ve insisted on booking out the club’s top girls. It’s happened before, and Mama was also brusque in informing everyone then. Which zaibatsu scion is it this time? Or could it be a celebrity? Well, whoever walks through the door that night better bring some new faces and wallets with them. It’s proving to be hard for you to fish three-million yen from your current roster of clients.

As if to thwart the ease that’s settled, your phone rings once more. But instead of a call, it is now exploding with messages. A cold, unpleasant hunch tells you that the Tanabata thing is bigger than you thought, and you raise the screen up to your eyes to prove it true: customers are complaining left and right about the abrupt cancellation of their appointments. They’re not the only ones either. Your colleagues are also voicing their bewilderment in the group chat, assuming some kind of grievous error on the club’s website. Even second-tier hostesses like Atsuko have all their meetings struck off, and they worry about their fickle clients turning to another club for the night.

This is unprecedented. Murasaki has never once been booked out in its entirety. Mama will never give her customers a reason to visit other establishments, and there is simply more to earn from multiple parties than just one. Her heels are dug firmly in the ground when it comes to business. You feel sick, guts wringing bile up your throat. Like an eclipse upon light, it dawns slowly: the name for which Mama has bent her own iron rules for.

Bonten.

Is there something to be made of this glowering sky? Kakuchō is not a superstitious man and yet he cannot perceive these dark clouds as anything but ominous. It'd been sunny all day with no sign of precipitation, but as soon as he entered the car, thunder began to roll. Normally, this jarring turn of weather wouldn't throw him off, but as it's happened right before Bonten's meeting with the Mara-kai, Kakuchō cannot help but wonder if it might be an indication of sorts. In the end, he supposes with a bit of humility that even he is not immune to the dread of meeting the most dangerous man in Japan—especially when they are soon to take one of his most important assets: the hostess club Murasaki.

"Lighten up, will you?" drawls Ran from the seat beside. His lazy smile is bright in contrast to the brewing storm. "It's sacrilege to walk into a club with a glum face."

"We're walking into business," Kakuchō retorts, narrowing his eyes at the glass of whiskey in Ran's hand. "You can be a little less relaxed about this."

Ran responds pointedly with a sip of alcohol. When they were all younger, it grated on Kakuchō how unfazed Ran could bring himself to be about the world. No matter what kind of pinch he was in, Ran’s air of nonchalance was unwavering. He’d always figure out a way to make light of his situation and smile. Did he truly not care? Was he just that confident about himself? Or could it really be what Izana said, that he was an idiot and had once again let his head drift off to the clouds? In any case, it annoyed Kakuchō, who often took things seriously. These days however, as it becomes harder and harder to sleep without a gun by his bed, Kakuchō finds this quality of Ran somewhat enviable.

"Rindō and Mocchi just got to the club,” Ran breaks the silence again, reading off his phone. He taps on the headrest of their chauffeur, who immediately apologises for his slow driving. “Rindō already has playlists for Murasaki. Have you heard them?”

“Yes. And you should stop him from playing them if you want the club to profit.”

“Well, I happen to like some of his tracks��” Ran appears to mull. “But I must say it’s not the vibe for Murasaki. It’ll be your first time there tonight, won’t it?”

Kakuchō refuses to answer, which satisfies Ran all the same.

“You’ll have your pick of girls, or you can leave it to the mama," he explains, finishing his last swig of whiskey as their car turns into the Azabu-Jūban district. “She’s got an eye for choosing the right one.”

“I know how a hostess club works.”

“I never said that you didn’t. Oh, I’ll let you meet my girl too.”

“Didn’t ask to.”

“You know, I can’t wait to tell her who her new bosses are." A sinister sort of smile spreads across Ran’s lips. “She’s going to lose it.”

Kakuchō rolls his eyes, hoping that his colleague will remember where their priorities are at the moment. “Will the mama be working for us as well?”

“Presumably, because she works for Murasaki. Just like a CEO working for a new board. But her loyalties seem to lie with Tanida…" Ran trails off, gazing out of the window now. The Mori Tower passes his view—they're getting close to their destination. “Murasaki will be ours, for sure, but it won’t be worth as much if Mama-san doesn't have our interests at heart. We'll talk to the Mara-kai about this later."

Kakuchō feels urged to mention that something like that should've already been discussed. It is common sense that a club is only as valuable as the mama who runs it, and from what he’s heard, there lives no mama who’s made as much money as the one in Murasaki. But he also sees no point in starting the conversation when they're about to alight, so he decides against his comment. It's not like he's in the right position to speak, anyway; it'll be like telling a fish how it should swim. The Haitani Brothers were practically put on earth to run Tokyo’s nightlife—there was never any question about who was to lead Bonten’s foray into the trade. Even though he outranks Ran, Kakuchō knows to hold his tongue when it comes to that business.

After a series of turns, their driver finally pulls into a quiet street. It appears that night has since crept up, unnoticed amidst the dark rain clouds.

Takeomi’s mentioned that Murasaki was once a dingy snack bar in the basement of an old wooden shophouse. It’s not something anyone will guess of the sleek, steel-reinforced building that stands before Kakuchō now. In fact, it hardly resembles any establishment of that sort. Blinding neon signs, fast-talking touts and even garish menus of the ladies on shift—hostess and cabaret clubs are rarely shy about what they are. Even modest ones will sneak in the word 'girls' somewhere on their storefronts to let the men of the world know just what they are really selling.

But Murasaki is none of those. Its glass and concrete façade blends well with the other buildings in Roppongi-itchōme, where major offices and foreign embassies are close, almost as if to present itself as one of them. Any indication of its true order of business is contained in a small sign at its porch, which only spells the romaji of its name in backlit brass letters. Still, it can easily pass off as a restaurant’s plaque to passers-by who don’t know any better.

So—this is Murasaki. It is as unassuming as a club can be, but Kakuchō supposes the inconspicuousness is appreciated by most clients.

“Sanzu-sama’s car will be arriving in fifteen minutes, and the boss will take another ten,” notifies a subordinate as he shelters Kakuchō with an umbrella. Hardly a necessary gesture when they can reach the club’s entrance in just a few steps, but Kakuchō’s been told to accustom himself to the executive treatment. Noone’s gonna look up to you if you don’t put yourself higher than them, said Takeomi when he caught Kakuchō telling a lackey he can open his own doors. The advice still doesn’t sit well—partly because it came from a man once ruined by hubris—but Kakuchō understands the need to be commanding. He enters the foyer, where Ran is already waiting.

“Party’s on the fourth floor for us,” he informs. Ran is, of course, referring to themselves and the other Bonten executives. “All our other guys will be having fun in the atrium. Mama-san’s cleared the whole place out for us. Isn’t she nice?”

“Or she could be laying a trap,” frowns Kakuchō, prompting the other man to sigh. “Pretty convenient to have us all in the same place at once, don’t you think?”

“We’ve been through this… Have a little faith,” Ran pats him on the shoulder, the mild exasperation in his tone warning him not to continue. He turns to the concierge, who greets them with obsequious familiarity. “Good evening, Koremitsu-san. Big night, huh?”

“We humbly look forward to your guidance, Haitani-sama. I’d toast to you, but I am on the job.” Koremitsu, if that is his real name at all, bows deeply. In bronze letters, the wall behind him boldly reads: there are as many sorts of women as there are women. “Mama-san is at the VIP lounges with your brother and Mochizuki-sama.”

“And Utsu?"

"Still getting ready, the last I heard…" He dials a telephone on his desk and whispers into it, vaguely annoyed. "I apologise. You know how she likes to take her time for you."

"And you know how I'd gladly wait for her."

Ran has always held the passing of seasons and women in the same regard—Kakuchō knows this of his friend, but in seeing the grin he's flashed, wonders if the man is now capable of real attachment.

“Well, instead of waiting, why don’t you sample our new shipment of Dom Peris?” Koremitsu offers, rubbing his hands together. “Mama-san would also like you to pick the champagne for tonight.”

“Now that is a job for me,” Ran gleefully agrees, wasting no time in following the concierge to a door on their right. Clearly, he has no qualms about leaving Kakuchō at all. “Elevator’s down that hallway,” he points out, waving over his shoulder as he disappears just like that. “See you at the fourth floor in a bit, brawler!”

It is now Kakuchō’s turn to sigh, which is the most he can do about that rascal, anyway. The Aigner on his wrist tells him that Mikey and Takeomi are due to arrive, Sanzu and Kokonoi even sooner, so he settles to make his way up as Ran instructed. Once inside, Murasaki reveals itself as a different world entirely. Kakuchō is not a man of culture and neither does he pretend to be one, but even he can recognise a couple of the western paintings hung around the walls. It becomes apparent from every piece of furniture and artwork that the club was designed to flaunt Tanida’s wealth. A little too extravagant for his own tastes, but definitely something right up the Haitanis' alley.

The passage Kakuchō's been sent to is washed in black, which makes the walk seem longer than it should. By the time he reaches the metal doors at the end of it, he feels as though he’s walked into a different plane altogether. Kakuchō, unrelentingly cautious, beckons for three of his subordinates to follow him into the elevator. He quickly regrets it when the space turns out to be too tight of a squeeze for four built men—a sly trick, apparently: according to Rindō, it gives the hostesses an excuse to cosy up. How Mikey will take to being packed in this tin can later is a problem he cannot help but worry about. The boss has always needed his space from others.

The ride is soon interrupted at the second floor. Someone else is on their way up too, though Kakuchō doubts they’ll have much luck getting in with how his guards have walled themselves around him. The doors slide open and they see a young woman waiting on the other side: while her dress and make-up are more subtle than the other girls he's been brought to, she is unmistakably a hostess.

"Oh, please excuse me…" she mumbles in surprise, the crowd catching her off guard. Her expression suggests that she wouldn’t have entered even if the space allowed her to anyway. "I'll take the next one."

One of the guards grunts an apology while the other two release the guns by their waists. They are disciplined enough to keep their faces steely, but Kakuchō can sense their disappointment about her leaving—even he has noticed how lovely the woman is. Kakuchō has always been somewhat proud of being level-headed, so this compulsion to stare at her is becoming quite the bother. Under the soft glow of the elevator light: her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her lips—Ah, shit… By the time the doors have closed, he is cursing himself for learning the full map of her face. At some point his heart has also quickened, beating as though it is on the verge of an answer to some great question, and he is left to dwell on its betrayal as the elevator ascends.

The fourth floor introduces itself with a blast of amber light and a pungent mix of cigarette smoke and perfume. Though he still has a corridor to pass, Kakuchō can well imagine from the raucous laughter that Rindō, Mocchi and their trusted men have already succumbed to the club’s hospitalities. Those idiots… Just save Tanida the trouble and roll over, why don't they? Has it ever occurred to anyone else that the Mara-kai can still be a threat? Apparently, age does not represent wisdom, and therein lies the reason why Bonten is led by its three youngest members. He presses on with his journey into the private lounge.

“So, this is Bonten’s Number Three… Where've you been hiding all this while?" It doesn't take long for the shark to circle in. An older woman—the mama, he presumes—purrs, teeth gleaming at the scent of fresh blood. She turns to Rindō, who’s joined them to make the introduction. "Why haven't you brought this stud to my club before?"

"Hey, aniki and I tried our best, but Kakuchō here is not that sorta guy," he explains with air quotes, smirking. It's obvious from his loose speech that he's already drunk more than he should. "Seriously, it's like he's sworn a vow at a monastery or something."

Are the Haitani Brothers genetically predisposed to get on his nerves? Kakuchō wishes that Rindō would at least have the sense to keep his mind clear before an important meeting, but he supposes that even sense in general is too much to ask from a fool. Seeing that his best course of action is to simply ignore Rindō, he gives the mama a curt nod. "Our business is in your care."

"Ah, I know the stoic type well," she remarks, eyeing him up and down as she sips on her long pipe. "I have just the girl you need, but I'd rather give my customers a choice. So, anyone you like? What's your eye for beauty?"

If it was truly up to him, Kakuchō would very much like to be in the company of his guards only. But as the saying about Rome goes… He seeks the expanse of the lounge for someone to pick, only to realise that he is already bound to a choice. At once, the young woman from the elevator comes to mind. The dim lights then have left an unreliable rendering of her hair and he wasn't very observant about what she wore, but everything else about her is burning starkly behind his eyes. It seems that her face has filled his head entirely and spared no space for anything else. But how does one begin to describe a face? It is perhaps as hard, if not harder, to put into words as a feeling.

“So?” Rindō slings a probing arm over his shoulders, teeming with anticipation not unlike a paparazzi in wait for a scoop. He must’ve guessed from Kakuchō’s hesitation that there is a genuine answer at stake. So smug is his shit-eating grin that, despite himself, Kakuchō is resolved to deny him any further satisfaction instead. “Anyone will do,” he grunts to the mama, the decision leaving a rather bitter taste on his tongue.

"Hmm, thought as much… There's no need to be shy, you know?" Smoke swells from her nose, and she motions for a hostess waiting by the bar to come over. "This is Rokujō, and she'll lead you out of your shell by the hand."

"Call me Jō," the hostess insists, bowing slowly so that both men will not miss how full her breasts are. He immediately detects a difference in age between them, and it strikes Kakuchō that Jō is one of the more mature women of the lot. Is that what the mama thought of him? He cannot find it in himself to protest, so he greets his companion politely and lets her fill the space by his arm. What does it matter, anyway, when he isn’t here to enjoy himself in the first place? Still, he cannot suppress his growing dismay for how the night is turning out.

Rindō grumbles in disappointment at how boring Kakuchō is determined to be and leaves with the mama for a livelier corner of the room, where Mocchi has made himself at home with an armful of girls. Kakuchō is instead steered away to a quieter corner by Jō, who must've either sensed his preference for it or is planning to keep him all to herself. Both reasons may also be at play together. Her courtship proceeds formulaically: she praises how hard his biceps are, twice, refills his drink, and attempts to learn all there is to know about him. He entertains her sparingly.

Jō is undeniably beautiful but not beautiful in a way that frustrates him, and that is why she cannot stop him from glancing at the lounge’s doors every so often. He doesn’t mean to be rude, but duty has to come first: Mikey is to appear any time now. Tanida too, if everyone is keeping to the plan. However, as the minutes tick by, it becomes harder and harder to pretend that the unease spreading between his lungs is caused by anything but the possibility of never meeting the woman from the elevator again. Could it be that she was heading for the third floor instead of the fourth? Was she assigned somewhere else at the last minute? Will he see her again? With all these pointless questions clouding his mind, Kakuchō can feel himself slipping into a pathetic state. The last time he felt so reduced was when he'd been seventeen and still a boy. Because the girl in question was something special, he can accept the torment he was put through then, but, now, for a woman he's barely met...? Beauty alone has never been enough to sway Kakuchō of Bonten—why should that change?

"Utsu, you little tart. You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago!"

"Sorry, Mama. I was getting ready."

The mama's distinct tenor voice breaks his reverie but it is the softer one after it that holds his attention. Helpless to the familiar call of the sound, he looks up and his eyes land on her immediately despite the flock of bodies in the room: the woman, by the door! She is bent in a slight bow—presumably one of apology to the mama—and so her face is still partially concealed, but Kakuchō has no doubt about who she is. He's even developed a strange confidence that he’d be able to recognise her anywhere, like he's known her for a long time.

The woman straightens herself, bringing her features into the light, and something between his lungs moves. Stirring, fluttering, thrashing, writhing—Kakuchō cannot tell how it is moving exactly, only that it cannot be stopped. It takes him to a realisation he should've arrived at a long time before, and by the time he's caught a clear view of her face, Kakuchō knows deep in his bones what he must do.

He must not let her slip away again, not the way he did eight years ago.

Embarrassing: you still wring your fingers into knots when you are nervous. Didn’t you leave this bad habit behind in your girlhood with the rest of it? Or have you simply not been nervous enough for it to surface? Whatever the case is, this shameful display is unbecoming of you, so you summon Mama’s advice to mind and cross your arms to keep your hands from moving.

“How about this?”

You look up and the only thing you see in the mirror is the searing glare of your hairdresser. Chū Reika has been giving blowouts to the girls of Murasaki for nine years and is only ever thanked for it. Therefore, you can see where her temper is coming from when you request that she changes your hairstyle, again, for the fifth time.

“You know you look fine!” she seethes, obviously harbouring a desire to scalp you then and there. “Are you messing with me?!”

“I think I want an up-do after all…” you pretend to mull, fingering the loose waves falling on your shoulder. Chū throws her hands up in defeat and moves to pack her brushes, so you dig around your wallet for something to win her back with. “C’mon, Chū-jie. It’s a special night. I just want to look my best.”

The other hostesses refer to her by Chū-nē out of affection, but you prefer to use the Mandarin equivalent that is ‘jie’. Chū Reika landed on the shores of Japan a decade ago to escape the poverty of her village in China—a rather common story you’ve heard. Her Japanese has since grown to be impeccable but she has yet to find a way to mask her unusual intonation. Most other girls cannot tell where it’s coming from, but because your mother had given you an ear for the Chinese accent, you could ask where her provincial hometown is right off the bat of your first meeting—in the language she is most natural with. To tell the truth, you didn’t really care for the information, but you reckoned it'd be helpful to endear yourself to the hairdresser.

“Stop lying, I know you’re just dragging time.” Chū sighs, considerately switching to Mandarin when calling your intentions out even though there is no one else around. She pinches the five-thousand-yen note from your hand and gets to work again. “Your hair will fry, you know.”

Chū has hit the nail on the head but you don't praise her for it. A week ago, some time after your call with Yamamoto-san, Mama made the executive order for every hostess to punch in on the night of Tanabata. "We're reserving the club for some very important guests” was all she indulged, but word had somehow gotten out that Murasaki is changing hands and the event is meant to welcome the new owners. You are capable of simple arithmetic so it didn’t take long for you to conclude that the Mara-kai had sold to Bonten, and from the moment you summed that up, you’ve been afflicted with a sinking feeling in the pits of your stomach. What will happen to you? What will Tanida do with you? Now that it is Tanabata, the gutting ache is at its height. You'd woken up at mid-day wishing you could hide the night out under your quilt, but because Mama has ruled that out as an option, you were left with the next best thing to do: delay it.

The phone in the dressing room rings just as Chū is about to pin your last clump of loose hair, and she leaves to answer it only when the noise has grown too annoying to bear. You don't need to hear the angry hissing of the receiver to know what the call is about. It's half an hour past the time you were ordered to be on the fourth floor—Koremitsu must've been tasked with summoning you there, probably by Mama or Ran. That utter tool. You've never liked his snivelling, grovelling ways.

“Well, this is the best I can do,” Chū tells you as she finishes her job. The previous hairstyle suits you better, but in your best interests you keep that to yourself and give your thanks instead. Besides, there is something strangely gratifying about not looking your best for the night. To hell with Mama. To hell with Ran! With any luck, the last-minute styling may even dampen your appeal to that greasebag. When he was a customer, you could at the very least count on the good old excuse of club etiquette to keep him at arm's length. But now that Ran's the fucking boss, he is free to step over all the rules and become as much of a pain as he wants. Can’t you be allowed even a single respite in life? Can’t the gods show you mercy for once?

So indignant you are at the perversity of it all that you don’t even realise you’ve called for an elevator. The sudden beeping startles you into awareness, and you’re glad that it did before you can walk into the wall of meat that is practically spilling out the doors. Ah, right. Mama did warn that Murasaki will be welcoming more testosterone and muscle tonight, but even then it did nothing to prepare you for the shock of having three large men scowl down at you.

“Oh, please excuse me…” you take a step back to appease them, who you’ve identified as bodyguards from their plain dressing and defensive stance. “I’ll take the next one."

These men must be from Bonten, but unlike Ran’s guards who always seemed to care more about your tits than their boss’s safety, these three golems appear to be actually competent at their job. You attribute their discipline to the man brooding quietly behind them. He is a little smaller in stature, but the authority exuding from his stern gaze is definitely one of a leader. The closing doors have stolen your chance to catch a proper look, but the hasty glimpse you’ve snuck of him shows dark hair and what resembles a large scar across his left eye. The sight comes accompanied by a sense of familiarity, but you dismiss it easily because there’s no way you’d forget a Bonten member like that.

The next elevator comes soon enough—too soon, in fact—and you brace yourself for the night of torture. It shortly begins with fierce shrieking from Mama.

"Utsu, you little tart,” she rounds in as you enter the lounge, spitting smoke all over your face. “You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago!"

“Sorry, Mama,” you bow, not minding that there isn't a shred of the sentiment carried in your tone. “I was getting ready.”

“Oh, were you?” You can tell from her constipated expression that she’s torn between yelling at you more or letting you go. Mama hates to flog at dead horses so she settles on the latter with a sigh, making sure to clip you in the shoulder as she leaves. “Ran is coming up soon. Prepare yourself.”

You don’t suppose she's left a sympathetic sort of meaning to her instruction, but the idea amuses you nonetheless. That, and Ran’s absence itself, lift your spirits enough for you to power through with your job. You walk over to the bartender to place an order for Ran’s favourite drink, going by a roundabout way to avoid Rindō, who is presently egging on a blonde, goateed man in his endeavour to chug a full bottle of whiskey straight. Another Bonten executive, you presume from his flashy, moss-green suit and the throng of your colleagues he's gathered. How many of them are there, again? Four, seven executives? Well, you don't care enough to recall. You'll find out soon, anyway.

The bartender nods and smiles in greeting as you approach the counter, but his eyes are distant—the courtesy is meant for someone behind. You turn around to face the tall, imposing figure looming over your back.

Dark hair and a scarred eye: it's that man from the elevator.

Though the intensity of his gaze suggests that he's been staring at you for a while, he looks to be even more surprised than you are about the meeting, like it never occurred to him that he'd see you again. Normally, you'd instantly peg him as some kind of creep for displaying such an odd demeanour and set the bouncers on him, but for some strange, inexplicable reason, you empathise with his shock instead. It doesn't take you long to connect it to that sense of familiarity you felt when you first saw his face, which has now returned in an overwhelming wave.

“Nikaidō.” Breath escapes him and he looks relieved, as though your name is something he’s lost and found. The confidence he declared it with, however, falters by the time of his next question. He points to the streak across his eye. “Do you remember me?”

Upon his bid, the world gives way to this man before you. The haze of eight years starts to thin, and slowly he takes on the shape of that boy outside your door, the one who so earnestly asked if he’d see you again. He’s been made unfamiliar by a taut face, longer hair and a sleek, dark suit—but because this is someone you once learned by touch, you have no doubt about who he is. A name gathers at the tip of your tongue, like a song once beloved.

“Kakuchō.” You’re smiling before you know it. “I’d remember you even without that scar.”

Never have you spoken truer words in your time at Club Murasaki.

Glossary of Terms / References Used | Next Chapter TBC

A/N: It's been a hot minute and I apologise for that! Several things going on here in this primarily MC-centric chapter, I hope you enjoyed the little reveals about her life! I promise, her background is plot-relevant. Oh, and I guess her reunion with Kakucho is in this too, huh! :P As always comments and reblogs and tag-coments will be loved till the end of time!

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fanfiction #kakucho #haitani ran #haitani rindou #matsuno chifuyu #hanemiya kazutora #kakucho x oc #kakucho x reader #haitani ran x reader #haitani ran x oc #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x oc #bonten #mochizuki kanji #akashi takeomi #requital of a crane

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tobifuyu · 1 year ago

Text

New hair, who dis?

Ran Haitani x f!reader

After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.

cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.

wc: 9,7k

a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.

One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.

You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.

Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.

You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.

There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.

Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?

“Ran, what the fuck?”

“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.

The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.

“I cut my hair.”

“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.

It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.

You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.

It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.

“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.

He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.

Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.

Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?

You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”

He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”

You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.

“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”

The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.

Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.

An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.

Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.

“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.

My sleepy boy, you think.

That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.

Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.

You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.

The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.

Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.

He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.

You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.

Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.

Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?

Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.

So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.

You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.

You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.

Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.

“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”

“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.

“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.

“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?

“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?

“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.

Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.

He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.

Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.

In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.

“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.

Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.

The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.

You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.

“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.

It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.

All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.

You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.

“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.

Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“

“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”

“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”

He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.

Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.

“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”

His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.

“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.

“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.

His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.

This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”

“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”

Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.

“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.

“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.

“Go at it, babygirl.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.

Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.

“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.

Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.

One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.

He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.

The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.

You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.

It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.

That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.

He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.

His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.

At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.

You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.

He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.

“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.

“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”

“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”

You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.

“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”

So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.

“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.

“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”

It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“

The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.

Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”

You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.

Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.

You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.

His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.

“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.

“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.

“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”

He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.

It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.

“I need you, Ran.”

Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.

The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.

“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”

You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.

“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.

More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.

You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.

He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.

His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.

You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.

“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.

He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.

It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.

You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.

Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.

“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.

Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.

It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.

When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.

“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.

“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.

He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.

You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”

You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.

He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.

Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.

“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.

You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.

“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”

You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.

You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.

Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.

Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.

You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.

Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.

He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.

He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.

Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.

He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.

“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”

He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”

“What is it that you want, use your words.”

“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.

Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.

You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.

“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.

Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.

But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.

It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.

You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.

The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.

“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.

His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.

He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.

You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.

He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.

Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.

Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.

“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.

His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.

He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.

He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.

“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.

You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.

Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.

“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”

He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.

But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.

You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”

You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.

Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.

Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.

“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.

“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”

A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.

It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.

His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.

Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.

As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.

After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.

“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.

“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.

“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”

Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.

When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”

The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.

Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”

You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.

“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”

The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.

“Want you to be mine, baby.”

“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.

Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.

And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.

Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.

You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.

Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.

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zerokurokawa · 1 month ago

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Enemies to lovers with izana or ran. But the reader has a traumatic past so she has severe social anxiety. PLEAAASEEEEE!! I just read your work and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THEM

😍

Not My Fault | Izana x Reader (Enemies to Lovers: Part One)

Izana was the leader of Tenjiku and you knew he had been at fault for the multiple bad things that had been happening around the city of Tokyo. You tried your best to avoid him, however, trouble always found its' way to you. Red coats would scatter the streets as you made your way down the sidewalk; hoping they would just ignore you. Turning the corner, you felt as if someone was following you; watching your every move.

As you were rounding the corner, you found yourself with a sight of multiple men beating up another opposing gang member. That's when you spotted the white haired man, the one who you despised. You and Izana had a past with him trying to recruit you into his new gang, however, you rejected his advances and ever since then, you felt as if he had followed you. He knew that you were a trained fighter and a good one at that. He kept a close eye on you even though you had made it clear you didn't like him nor would you follow him. You turn to walk away before sharp eyes snapped in your direction, calling your name.

"Y/n... come here." Izana said as he landed another kick to the poor guys' stomach before laying him down completely. You continued to walk even faster, knowing that you were no match for Izana Kurokawa. Footsteps followed you and next thing you knew, you were in an ally way with a gate closed off.

"Great, dead end..." you muttered to yourself. You turned around to see him with three other Tenjiku members behind him.

"Dead end indeed. Now can we talk business or are you going to run away like you always do?" Izana spat in a sarcastic tone.

"I want nothing to do with you or your evil antics, Kurokawa." You spat back, backing up against the gate as he approached you.

"Just join me and you will have nothing else to worry about. I need a female fighter on my side when we go against Toman." He tilted his head to the side and stepped forward, now only a few feet away.

"You don't need a female fighter, you want a female fighter. There is a difference." Your back was now fully pressed against the gate, not allowing you an escape.

"Okay... you caught me. Maybe I want you because not only are you strong, but you're smart, cunning, and might I add, adorable." A crooked smile spread across his face as he said these words, making you turn your head to the ground. You had to admit, although Izana was evil and ruthless, he knew how to make someone feel small.

You didn't say anything. Instead, you go to make a break for it around him. You felt his arm stop you dead in your tracks as his men stood guard, ready to catch you unless he didn't.

"Kurokawa-" He stops you mid sentence.

"It's Izana to you and you only." He stated, still holding you by your waist tightly. You start to back up again but he didn't loosen his grip on you. He looked down at you with his lilac eyes and leaned in to your ear, "Grab a bite to eat with me and we'll talk it over."

His words rang through your ears, making you even more uncomfortable than before. He was always scolding you, stalking you, making you afraid to even leave your own house but now he's offering to take you out to eat? It made no sense at all. You stood there in shock, thinking how you could possibly get yourself out of this situation. You glanced over at the three Tenjiku men and then looked back at Izana.

"Izana, I will go eat with you on one condition." You decided on a split second with no time to think. All you knew was that your fight or flight senses were through the roof.

"And the condition is?" He asked, somewhat softly.

"You leave me alone afterwards." You stated, looking at him sternly.

"Deal. Now let's go." He then grabbed your arm and practically drug you behind him, shooing off his men.

After a few moments of walking with him, in silence, you arrived at a restaurant clearly chosen by Izana. Picking a booth in the far back with dim lighting, he sat across from you with a stoic look on his face. His arms were on the table with his fingers intertwined as you sat with your hands under your thighs, clearly uncomfortable.

"So, hear me out before you make your ultimate decision." He stared into your eyes.

"Go on."

"If you join me, there will be money involved. You won't have to fight unless I deem it necessary. I can also offer you protection and a place to live if you need so."

"I don't need any of those things, Izana." You responded as you took a drink of your water.

"But I know you want them. I know you and your mother don't get along. I know that you are working and struggling to pay the bills. I know that-" You had cut him off mid sentence, choking on your water.

"How do you know all of this?" You asked with your brows furrowed.

"Ive been keeping a close eye on you. I also know that Toman is trying to recruit you as well. You're a level three black belt. Ive personally heard stories of your fighting skills and I know that you would succeed with us." He leaned back into his seat and put his hands in his pockets.

"I can manage without the criminal activity."

"We will do all the dirty work. We just need you on our side." He said softly. You knew what he was doing - manipulating you into thinking you were a dire asset to the gang.

"Can I think about it?" You asked, still trying to at least escape the current situation you were in.

"I'll let you think about it. You have three days to make up your mind."

"And if I say no?" You asked, tilting your head to the side out of curiosity.

"Things might get bad for you then." He said as he stood up rather quickly and made his exit. You weren't even able to get a word in before you heard the door slam. Turning around, you see him walk off rather quickly. Taking in a deep breath, you reminded yourself that you had a decision to make.

(A\N: This is my first time writing since I lost my dearest love. Please forgive me if it's not great and forgive me for being extremely late on it. <\3)

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xxelfmamaxx · 2 years ago

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(Credits:toodai_7[Twitter])

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nyxrryl · 2 years ago

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Legally Blonde Reader x Bonten

Bonten had no idea what they were signing up for when they hired their lawyer, (name) (last name).

of course, the criminals already had a vague idea of what to expect from a lawyer, the typical, uptight, cold and serious demeanour- nicely tailored monocoloured suits where most likely the only pop of colour would be a dark coloured tie, maybe tie clip- safe to say they didn't exactly expect to see their lawyer enter their office for the first time in a bright pink ensemble- a pastel pink button up that had the collar unbuttoned, a hot pink blazer and pink pants, with a pretty pink Prada purse and an alluring, definitely expensive smelling perfume/cologne practically announcing his presence. "oh my gawd hi!! nice to meet you all, i'm (name) (last name), its like so good to meet you all!" he said in a cheery, upbeat voice.

this was definitely not what the Bonten men were expecting, at all.

they also weren't exactly expecting getting called by (name) in the middle of the day

"heyy! so, this is totally awkward but like, i may have done an oopsie, mind helping a guy out? i'm not exactly as experienced in taking out the trash." he said aloud on loudspeaker for all the men to hear, Kakucho raising an eyebrow at this, sure they had gotten to know the lawyer better to the point there's no longer that odd tension between them,--even if it took months and a good amount of lunch breaks being shared between the individuals in order to warm up to the lawyer--but to just help with chores? "you don't know how to take out your own garbage?" "ugh- no silly! i mean a body, i mean, he isn't dead but-" they overhear him kicking what they can only presume to be some poor mans body. "-i think he's unconscious, still- i don't exactly know what to do with him, i mean i restrained him in case he wanted to try something but can you guys pleaaaase just help? pretty pleasee?~" he begged, whining into the phone. meanwhile, the men in the conference room just stare at each other in shock- none of them expected their preppy, cheerful hot pink lawyer to need help on handling a body of all things.

"where are you?" Mikey spoke up, having been silent the entire call but deciding why not lend him a helping hand- the platinum haired man did owe (name) a favour- something he wouldn't admit seeing it happened just out of nowhere when (name) got him taiyaki, claiming it was the last batch of the day and that he owed him, something he would probably shoot the person for suggesting but he made an exception for name- a decision definitely not influenced by the bag full of taiyaki left for him. the rest of Bonten were a little surprised to see Mikey take the initiative but they'd follow his decision.

"oh, right i'm at (location)." "we'll be there in 10." "okay~" and with that (name) hung up and the men went on to get to the location, upon arriving, they found (name) in an alley, one hand on his phone and the other holding what looked like.. a pink taser? adding to that, he had a man under his heel- the man was on the floor and had his arms bound together on his back, where it was bound, (name) was stepping on it. "oh hey guyss, he hasn't woken up- don't worry he's not dead, i don't think so at least- but mind giving a hand please?~" he put his hands together in a pleading manner, turning to the men- "is that a taser?" "yep! its pink too, isn't it cute?~" he grinned and as he said that, the bound man finally regained consciousness- wriggling around to which (name) just stepped on him, clearly hard as the Bonten men swore that they heard a crack from it. "who even is this guy?" "oh, he's just some creep that tried to touch me. don't worry, you can clearly see i handled it, nearly killed him too- i'm glad i didn't though." the smile (name) bore as he replied was somewhat unsettling to the men, of course seeing violence wasn't exactly all that new to them but to see this seemingly innocent man be so cheerily vicious struck them, be it in a good or bad way they couldn't say, they could just admit it was quite the revelation. nonetheless they helped him out, afterwards (name) let out a sigh of relief, "thanks guys, i owe you one. ugh, i need to take a shower after dealing with that piece of rotten garbage." he said as he wiped his hands off.

"well aren't you very cleanly." Kokonoi commented and (name) smiled "of course! i just got my nails done just now, i'd hate for the polish to end up being affected by wastage like him." he showed off his newly done nails, to nobody's surprise they were bright, barbie doll pink. "aren't they cute! oh if only i could get matching nails with (pet's name), that would be adorable!" the men looked at him, confused- "who?" "(pet's name), y'know! my pet, look!" he pulled out his phone and showed them a picture of said pet, sitting in one of his bags. "they're my darling angel, oh how i would love to bring him to stay by my side when doing work but professionalism and all." he sighed as he put his phone away. "i mean, i wouldn't mind if you brought in your pet, as long as it's behaved and all" Kakucho admitted, and before the others could even give their input, (name) beamed at the invitation- "really?! omg i'll be sure to bring them, don't worry they're toilet trained, i myself hate having an eyesore of a litterbox personally." he squealed thinking of his precious baby coming to work with him, what outfit should he give? they HAVE to match, that's a clear rule.

the others would've interjected but how could they? he looked so excited. maybe just one day with a pet in the office would be fine, it'd be bearable for just a day. a single day, that would be all.

okay they may have taken back that comment upon seeing the adorable little (pet), they enjoyed having it around and even would at times take breaks just to pet it cause stress-- give the men a break they work hard. (name) was overjoyed upon seeing the men be so open to having his pet at work. maybe they could let the pet stay other days too, it was nice to have a stress reliever right there, of course, if (name) allowed so after this.

Taglist

@luvrbunny01

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers oc #mikey x reader #ran haitani #bonten x male reader #bonten #bonten x reader #bonten sanzu x male reader #sanzu x male reader #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #tokrev takeomi #tokyo revengers x gender neutral reader #kokonoi x male reader #bonten kokonoi #legally blonde reader

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tomans-darlings-au · 15 days ago

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When You're The Exact Same Height As The Invincible Mikey But You're Type In Men Might As Well Be Trees

Sora: FUCK!

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bdmkw3 · 5 months ago

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Why im so short

#東卍fa #ran haitani #ran #haitani #rora #oc #anime #bonten #ranxrora #doodle #tokyo revengers #ran x rora

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wazabii · 8 months ago

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Jealousy? Or Insecurity

Imaushi Wakasa

Tw: jealousy, Sub!Wakasa, use of Babydoll, Haitani Ran x OC, praise and little degradation, Crying Wakasa, female reader, touchy with someone other than their partner, setting switching, smug reader, Dom!reader kind of yapping at the end (tell me if i missed anything) wellcome for the POC readers ;))

Pairing(s): Imaushi Wakasa ; reader

Genre(s) : romance/smut

WC :> 3,379

Enjoy

Wakasa was a simple man. Money, power and pussy. He had it all, and it's safe to say he was satisfied.

Getting women to swoon over him wasn't a hard thing for him to do, unlike one of his best friends (Shinichiro 💀). It came naturally to him throughout his lifetime.

When he was younger, 17 or so , he was already surrounded by women because of his powerful status. Being the former leader of Kodo Rengo and one of the original members of the black dragon's, he was bound to get surrounded by admirer's. Good or bad. And that's how he met his girlfriend of five years.

Of course, before dating him, wakasa made sure you understood his lustful lifestyle. Filled with wine and women and his 'wonderful' vices.

Compared to before, wakasa was definitely more tame in his sex life, only turning to you once in a while when he truly can't keep himself together. But even he, can't help but steal a glance or two, or three....... Or more of wonderful backsides that some women carry. It's one if the many uncountable reasons that he was attracted to you.

Working as a bartender at a world class bar as a side job to wakasa was easy enough. But having tens if not hundreds of beautiful women crowding 'round the place all day, makes it harder for him to work, with them asking for his addy too.

Today wakasa was stressed. His client, at the gym, got into a car crash, and he only knew when his client landed in the hospital. And on top of that, Takeomi got into a fight, though winning, he got badly hurt. So wakasa took a day to distress at the same bar he worked in.

Walking into the bar, he was swarmed by the classy women, young and old, curvy and petite, tall and short. It would be heaven, if he didn't have a girlfriend. He didn't entertain them and just gave the same boring replys, not disrespectful but not enough to continue any conversation.

"Hello","hey","what's up?"

Were his go-to replies.

He walked to the heart of the club, where all the dancers and the bar was closest to. He sat down and ordered a drink.

"1 Night Tripper thank you" he cupped his face with his hand and leaned onto it, lazy eyes glancing around the club.

It was always this face and that face, not a single person he couldn't remember seeing. While he was deep in his mindless thoughts, a pair of brothers sat next to him.

"Hey wakasa! Whatcha doin here?" The infamous Roppongi duo was seated next to him.

"Hey. Had to get my mind off things." His monotonous voice could barely mask the stress.

They conversed for a while before a women in a wine red dress, hardly covering anything, came over and sat on wakasa's lap, her large bittocks pressung against him. Wakasa froze, relishing it the feeling of a nice ass on him. But, regaining his self control, he softly pushed the woman and grabbed the empty chair next to him, sitting her down and continued talking with the brothers.

"Hey [Name]! Isn't that your boyfriend and the Hentai brothers over there?"

You took a peak, and indeed, there were the men that your friend mentioned.

"Amina it's Haitani, not Hentai, that makes a completely new word hun, I'll work on the pronunciation with you later wh-"

"Hey who's that bitch with your boyfie!" Amina jabbed a slender finger in their direction.

You met Amina through a marketing course half a year ago, and despite not knowing her for long, you two were like two peas in a pod, her firey attitude and confident aura intriguing you, her steady, powerful voice when she talks, the unwavering steps she takes as she walks, her down to earth self, made you want to be around her (which was surprising considering your lack of want for people swarming around you), yet not once has befriending her make you regret it.

This time, it wasn't a peak that you made at the men. Your head snapped to them so hard if you weren't so furious it would give you whiplash. 'What in the rubber duckies was wakasa doing, letting that girl practically lay on him!'

"Girl I'll go deal with the lil ass, you go get yourself a fine man k? Infact i feel like you and Ran would hit it off!" Clapping your hands excitedly, but once remembering that you were angry right now, You were about to storm over a confront him, but you decided to have a little fun.

Giving Amina a slight shove towards the older brother cunningly, "Go talk to Ran, he's the one with the cocktail, don't distract Rindou tho, he's talking to wakasa"

Amina stumbled a bit, but was thankful that you encouraged her to talk to the man she's been eyeing all night.

"Thanks babes~ mwah 💋 " she wiggled her fingers in a wave and went over to Ran.

Waving in acknowledgement , you turned back to the scene in annoyance.

Seeing Rindou talk to him, gave you an idea, not the brightest one, but an idea nonetheless.

You've known the Haitani's for as long as you could remember. They saw you at a park when you were young and challenged you to a pull up contest on the monkey bars. They were strong, no doubt, but you being the competitive person you are, didn't stop even when your arms were dying. Eventually, you won, the challenge and their respect. And you know damn well they both love a little drama.

Strutting over on front of the purple haired male, you gave him a sultry greeting. Ignoring the look Wakasa was giving you.

"Hey Rin Rin~" stroking his cheek with your red tipped index finger, you placed a knee right beside his thigh, leaning into him, black-based and gold rimmed cocktail dress enhancing your figure. Sensing your intentions with his drama dececter, he played along.

"Hey bunny, haven't seen you in a while, what's got you in this place" Rindou took his hand and brushed it along your thick thighs, squeezing once he got to the juciest part.

"Just a little bored, wanted to hangout with my girl-" the soft and breathy tone contrasted the hard smirk that was plastered onto your smug face when you heard a screech come from the chair behind you, the chair Wakasa was sitting in.

Wakasa couldn't handle it anymore, how could you! Right in front of him too? He stormed to the dim exit of the club, fiotsteps so heavy, that if you stood near him you could feel the vibration in the floor.

Grinning at Rindou, you knew your plan had worked, you pat his shoulder before pinching his cheeks between your pointer and thumb.

"Thanks Rin, we'll catch up next time kay~?" Rindou nodded in reply, a Cheshire grin taking over his usual stoic expression.

"Tell me how it goes" he winked before gesturing you to leave.

"Go get 'im!" I gave a firm nod, and waved good bye to Rindou, Amina was keeping Ran busy so o didn't try to interrupt their time together.

I walked after the jealous man, a slight skip in my step, knowing i had him right where i wanted.

I saw wakasa walking towards the bus stop. Amusement was evidently plastered on ny face. Softly i walked after him, and hooked my arms around his waist. Hearing a soft gasp from him i chuckled to myself. I lifted him up bridal style and walked back to the Kawasaki Ninja H2R. Keys in mouth, and a crabbed Wakasa in my arms.

"What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way" I airily sighed. Wakasa only crossed his arms, hands clenching the sleeves of his shirt, jutting his rosy lower lip out, forming a cute pout, if not for the situation at hand.

I put the man down, and cliimbed onto my beloved bike, Wakasa gingerly following after. He loosely gripped onto the clothing resting on the side of my hips.

I started the bike, letting him do whatever he wants, 'hmph! Lil boy gon' regret this' i smirked cynically, thankful that i was the driver, rendering my boyfriend blind to my actions. I was crusing for around 5 or so minutes and put my plan into action. I leaned slightly forward, not enough for him to notice a difference, and 'SCREECH' a sudden speed up and swerve of the bike made wakasa clutch onto his lover for dear life.

"[NAME] WHAT THE FUCK!" his gruff hands gripping onto your stomach, squeezing so hard, it made you wince a bit. Legs clammed to the sides of the bike, and best of all, lean arms crushing my curvy waist. I let out a boisterous laugh, into the wind it flows and then its gone. From my side mirror i see wakasa give me a soft smile but quickly replace it with a grumpy frown.

As we arrived, wakasa hopped off the bike, while i was turning off the engine. Swaying his wide hips, and strode his way to the front door.

He opened the door and started to go straight to bed. Huffing and puffing as if explaining his displeasure to me. I tsked, swooping him up from Infront of him, making him cling onto me instinctively. I grinned wildly to myself, and locked the door with on hand. Taking him up to our bedroom, i roughly sat him on the bed.

"Care to tell me why the waist of a bitch was in your grasp?" I asked, angry of course, but i wanted him to explain.

"WHY'D YOU CARE" Wakasa raised his voice at me challengingly. I quirked an eyebrow up.

"Why would i care? Well maybe because you're my BOYFRIEND?" I was livid, what in the world was he thinking!

"You want attention? Strip." Wakasa looked confused at my words.

"Did i fucking stutter baby?" I cooed sarcastically. "Strip."

Wakasa shakily took off his fishnet shirt, revealing his body that was once scattered in love marks, now completely bare. Then he unbuckled his belt, and took it into his hands. Not going to lie, it was crazy sexy, belt in hand, red in the face, leather pants hugging all the right places, especially his thick ass. God how i wanted to grab it. He peeled off the tight pants too, leaving him in short, tight lace boxers.

"Did i tell you to leave anything on your body?" I gave his ass a quick smack, quickly placing my finger in his waistband, I pulled it back and let it go, hearing a lovely gasp from him. He huridily ripped off his black boxers, hands practically quivering, from excitement or fear, I don't care. In spite of me being vexed, i still adored him. So i took it as my job to calm him down.

"Calm down babydoll, I'm only going to teach you a lesson alright? You feeling good?" I combed through his silky smooth hair, tugging on it slightly. "Y-yeah, m' sorry" the zebra 🦓 haired man stuttered in his quivering voice.

"We'll talk about why you're sorry later okay baby?" I softly slapped his face. "You let another women get all over you cuh' you were deprived righ'? I 'pologize f'that babydoll, works been callin, but i managed ta'get the next few day off f'ya" i caressed the spot i slapped lovingly, "righ' now imma show ya'don ha'ta go to other women kay~ cuh' babydoll can com'ta me kay?" Wakasa nodded softly, to every beat i said, a thick coat of pink painted his face.

I took the stunning dress off myself, leaving me in red, silk underwear, I placed him on the bed, and stood between his legs. Taking his milky calves, I placed them on my shoulder. "I won't stop till the break of dawn makin love to you baby"

Wakasa's dick was stood, slightly curving to the left, crying white. His thighs were flexing, while his arms wrapped around his chest. Vibrant violet eyes crystallizing with his tears. I looked at him expectantly, and he unwrapped his arms on instinct. I pulled him closer to me, leaning down to kiss his tears away, and scratch the back of his soft neck. I moved vertically, moving my wet mouth to his nipples. I sucked on it softly, earning a well deserved moan. Just to get revenge, i bit on it, not enough to bleed, just enough to make it hurt. Wakasa jerked upwards, eyes blown wide, pupils doubling in size, a raspy howl escaping from his voice.

"Hush up babyboy" I mumbled against his chest, kissing the spot i bit. I tipped back, to capture him whole with my eyes. I let out a soft heave, "you, you look beautiful, the sole reason my eyes exist, are to admire you" while talking, i caress his glutes. "Thank you, i wonder why you even chose me."

At his words, my eyes widen. He looked so.... Down. I thought of everything, starting from the club, his words, his actions, to now. It all added up.

"I mean, you're ethereal, amazing hair, lovely eyes, proportional nose, plump lips, symmetry is proven with your face! The best body any woman could have! You could have anyone you want, hell, you could even have Johnny Depp in his prime! How did I end up with you?" Wakasa was sobbing, the more he thought about it, the more worthless and low he felt.

"Babydoll, I chose you, you're beautiful, in and out. Fashion sense is immaculate, unlike most men, lean not over the top muscle, and can fight, heavenly voice, if i lost my life yet you're talking to me on my deathbed, baby I'd say, heaven can wait. Don't even get me started on your personality!" I tugged him closer to me, caging him in my arms, reassuring him that im not letting him go anywhere.

"I'm not the jealous type, but what's mine, is mine, and stays mine. And I'm sure as hell ian' letting you go. End of story." I placed soft kisses on his temple, whispering sweet nothings to him, holding him tight. Slowly yet surely, he was calming down.

"You rock my world babydoll, and you're gonna keep rocking it till you can't no more" i fell into the cloudy mattress with him under me, clinging on as if he lets go, I'd decay into fine salt.

I softly pushed him down so i can get up. "Take it off~" Wakasa whined as he tugged at my bra. I smirked endearingly, "take what off babydoll?" Wakasa was getting frustrated, the water that had dripped onto the ground, almost returned back to his indigo eyes. I slightly panicked, "Don't cry baby! I'll take it off im sorry" although nervous, i still giggled. I unclasp the back of the chest binder, freeing my breasts. Wakasa earnestly gazed at them, and pounced.

Throwing my head back, i moaned. The sound making Wakasa jerk up, dick slapping my bare cunt, suckling on my tits as if i was gonna produce milk.

"Doll, t-th~ha that's eno~oHhh" i pushed his head back, despite his soft protests. Wakasa gripped onto the back of my thighs, hips bucking up frantically. Holding down his hips, i told him, "dolly, i needa' open m'self up f'ya, you're big~" i flicked the pink mushroom tip of his long cock, his veins pulsing, it was obvious he was desperate, but I wasn't going to break my ribs just cause he was craving, and i didn't prep myself.

Sitting vertically opposite to him, i took two fingers and spread myself open, showing him my glistening pussy. Scooping up some of the honey that's dripping, and took it near my face. Opening my fingers, i watch as the string of necter attach from on finger to the other, i brought it into my mouth, maintaining eye contact with Wakasa, i sucked on the juices sensually. Bringing my saliva-coated fingers down to my hole. Massaging the gummy walls, going faster and faster. "Oh~hHh Waka~aHhh" "[N-Name]~ p-please~ i wannah' cum~"

The once tears of saddness quickly trned to tears of despration. Watching you, neck cranned back, hands working away on your pussy, juices dripping like a creak, hips jerking, made him want to bury himself whole in yout warm cushiony and inviting pussy. Wakasa stroked his lengthy cock, bucking his hips into his large hands, wishing it was your warm cunt instead. He was so close yet so far.

Promptly, you ceased your movements, causing the sweaty, glossed man follow in dubiety.

"c'mere baby" You pat the pillowed spot between your legs, loving the way that the love of your life follows order so well, in bed at least. Hair drooping, saliva dripping and the sounds of Wakasa's whining filled your senses. Encouraging him to relax, you croon "that's it baby, slowy does it".

Once Wakasa kneeled between your bare legs, you laid a pillow down for him to rest his head on.

"you good there doll?" reciving a nod of affirmation, you continued your ministrations.

Spreeding your prepped cunt for him to see turned the pussy craving man get hungrier, his normally droopy eyes blown wide, lips swollen from him biting it. He tried to sneakily buck his strong hips up, but you stopped him right before his tip touched your folds.

"a-ah-ah~ patience doll" Not giving him a mere second for him to process your words, you slammed yourself down on his grith.

Shamelessly rolling your hips up and down on his grithy length, pussy smashing his pelvic bone. A course of "y-YEAHHH~"'s and "NgnG"s forced themselves out of your mouth, the pure lust and passion oozing in the air can even make Asmodeus say hell nah.

Riding dick wasn't easy, but for the ethereal beauty under her, [Name] would do anything. For his pleasure she could slave away anytime. Cause at the end of the day, to [Name], a happy lover, a happy life. Getting to hear his sounds of love and appreciation, was enough of a reward for her, in fact, she couldn't ask for more.

"Pretty bitch, perfect doll, jeal-haah-jealousy is one h-nhg-ell of ah~ one hell of a disease h-huh." Panting as it felt as if his cock was prodding at my lungs.I noticed a little bulge in my tummy, as I pressed on it, it gained his attention. Moaning,he started to buck his hips up even harder. This time i couldn't stop him, as i was getting tired and restless. I ket him do what he want.

I flipped us over, making me place myself under his strong arms. I grabbed a handful of his ass and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer, burying his stem inside my soft, gummy walls.

He pounded his dick into me, not wasting a fraction of a second, gritting his teeth and gripping the sheets. The steel bedframe clashed and clanked with the brick wall, probably irritating the single 26 old neighbour with a dead girlfriend. the neighbour with blue eyes and black hair.

"Please! Please-Please, Please" The whines and wails of Wakasa almost drove you off the edge if the earth, barley stopping before reaching the ledge.

"Cum!" I gripped his tousled hair and pulled, making his head snap back and his back arch, leading his chest to crash into mine, and causing him to bully his dick even further into my cunt.

"YESS/FUCKK" both individuals moaned simultaneously, the sound coming out as bell chimes and harp strings up in heaven. Pure ecstasy flowed to every inch of their bodies, the passion staying throughout the night yet the lust slowly vanishing.

The night ended with one lovers feelings solved, and both cradled in the others warm, homey, inviting embrace. The glow of the sun of dawn shinning through the silk curtains, and the soft, dank night disappearing into the horizon lulled both the lovers to sleep.

..................

"GIRL YOU PROMISED TO TELL ME THE DETAILS. RAN AND AMINA HAVE BEEN GOING AT IT ALL NIGHT AND NOW I NEED A DISTRACTION! DON'T IGNORE ME JSBSHDGSKBCSKSMNDDJLSN"

@awoogaboogahehehehehehe

Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3

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asirensrage · 7 months ago

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The Lesser of Two Evils

Title: The Lesser of Two Evils Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Rating: Explicit Pairing: Haitani Ran x OC x Haitani Rindou, Haitani Ran x Haitani Rindou Word count: 3k Warnings: Dark!fic. Incest. Dub-con. Mention of child abuse/abusive father. Murder. Violence. PTSD. Coercion. Jealousy. Unhealthy relationships. Unbeta’d. *warnings are not exhaustive* Summary: There is a third Haitani. She loves her brothers. They love her more. Written for Fright Night: Forbidden Fruits collab for @enchantedforest-network "The theme of this Collab is Taboo topics. Murder, stepcest, incest, noncon - bring your most rotten fruits to the table."

Notes: I think this is the darkest thing I've ever written. It turned out a lot darker than I intended, so much so that I needed to edit things out because part of it was too dark for the event lol. I tried to fix it so it fit, alluding to things but never straight up saying what happened. It was a result of thinking what would drive the oc into accepting this. I hope I did it right. Apologies to anyone who reads this lol. I have so many regrets but I also enjoyed the challenge.

In case it needs to be said, I don't condone anything that happens in this fic. It's fiction.

HEED THE WARNINGS. seriously. read them.

There is a third Haitani.

A younger sister born from a last chance to rekindle a marriage that never should have existed in the first place. Her brothers were old enough to want to leave her behind, venturing into the world while Renka remained in the dilapidated apartment. It was a blessing when it was only her and her brothers. A miracle when she was alone.

With a family like hers, it was easy to slip through the cracks, to fall silent and let her brothers claim the spotlight they always dreamed about, the ones they whispered to each other about in the dead of night when the three of them were curled into the one bed they had as children. Ran wanted to be famous. Rindou wanted to be strong and go into music. He wanted to own a club that everyone would line up for ages to go into like they saw when they were out at night. Renka…just wanted to be happy. And safe. She didn’t tell her brothers the last part.

Whenever they were together, her brothers were glued to her side. They grinned at her, messed up her hair and teased her the way they teased each other. Rindou and Renka hid together when they’d accidentally wake up Ran, who was a demon no matter how old he was, when he woke up before he wanted. Ran promised her that he’d dress her in the fashions they’d see in the windows they passed. He swore that no one would look down at them, at her, the way he saw others do when they went out.

The Haitanis were not well off. Not anymore. The broken marriage of their parents, the infidelity that became more and more apparent, left their home in shambles in more ways than one. Ran swore to himself that he’d make things better for his younger siblings.

Ran and Rindou love their sister. When she was five, Rindou smashed a bottle over their father’s head. Ran used an umbrella to smash his face, leaving him struggling to breathe through his broken nose, before he threatened the man who helped give them life. “You ever look at her like that again, I’ll kill you.”

They pulled Renka out of the apartment and kept her between them before they treated her to some ice cream they bought with money they stole.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Not you’re fault you’re so cute,” Ran teased. “Ever happens again, you tell us.”

“Or at least scream,” Rindou adds. “Someone will help you.”

Renka nods but inwardly she already knows she doesn’t want to cause more trouble. She doesn’t want her brothers who are trying to look after her to get hurt. They’re just kids. What can they do against adults? She feels ancient and young and too aware of what the world holds already.

Their father leaves them alone for the most part. Their mother disappears, taking off to a new life as if she doesn’t abandon her own children. Renka is left with her two brothers who protect her, whispering promises to her that the life they deserve is waiting for them.

🌂

When she’s nine, her brothers are arrested. She doesn’t get to see them. Not right away. She’s left alone in an empty apartment, confused as to why they haven’t returned. It takes two days before she finally gets the news…and their father comes home.

She can’t stop him. Not from coming in or staying. Renka does her best to stay out of sight and out of mind, trying to find a way to get to the detention center to see her brothers. She needs to know what to do. She needs their reassurance that they’ll be released soon. Her home is not safe without them.

Renka is nine years old when she runs away from home.

🌂

She waits until the bruises fade before she finally manages to find a way to visit her brothers. One by one. Rindou comes first, takes one look at her and asks “What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing, everything is fine,” she lies. He looks like he doesn’t believe her, but he tells her where they hid some cash despite the risk of being recorded. He tells her that he worries about her by asking what she’s eating, how school is going and if there’s anyone whose ass they need to kick when they get out. Renka forces herself to smile and tells him that she misses him. They’ll be out in less than a year. She just has to wait for them. He leaves after pressing a kiss to his palm and his palm to the glass. She reaches back, pretending she can feel it. She issues being safe at night, tucked between them. She can’t sleep anymore.

Ran arrives before her, smiling widely at her until he actually looks at her. He doesn’t need to say anything. He’s five years older than her and Renka has never been able to withstand the tension of his stare, the anticipation of him waiting for her eats at her insides until she finally blurts it out. “Ourfathercamehome.”

She half hopes he doesn’t hear her or thinks she said something else, but the way his face changes tells her he understands. She has never seen her brother look at her like that. The fury in his expression makes even the guards straighten.

“What did he do?”

Renka swallows and doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. Ran’s anger is palpable and she can’t stop the way she shrinks down in her seat.

“Tell me you’re not staying there.”

“I–I’m not,” she says quickly. “I…I left.”

He doesn't ask where she’s staying. She has friends, but that’s tricky. She can’t be sent back. She can’t.

“Come back tomorrow. I’ll have a place for you then. Rindou tell you about the stash?”

She ends up crying, making Ran do a complete 180 in his reactions as he coos at her, tells her she’s strong and he’s proud that she’s protecting herself. That he’ll take care of everything. That no one will ever touch her again. She needs to trust her nii-sans.

Within two days, she’s introduced to someone named Kakucho. He’s tall, but quiet and kind. He’s only a couple of years older than her, but he shows her a space where she can stay with a lock on the door and teaches her more ways that she can block it to ensure no one else comes in. He gives her multiple escape routes and doesn’t ask questions. Even from inside their prison, her brothers found her protection. They continue to take care of her.

🌂

When they’re released, when she’s finally reunited with her protectors, both of the brothers hug her. They bury their faces into their hair and she can’t help but cry, even though she doesn’t want to. She’s just relieved.

“We’re so sorry,” they whisper to her. They’re sorry for getting caught, for leaving her alone, for not being there when she needed them. They promise never to leave her again. She doesn’t believe them, but she clings to them and wishes it’s true.

🌂

Ran and Rindou stick to their word until they’re arrested for the events of the Kanto Incident. She’s fourteen this time and more self-sufficient. More importantly, despite their aim for success, her brothers have arranged for her safety. She knows now where they stored money that she can use to keep their apartment paid for. She’s safe because her brother’s reminded all of Roppongi why what is theirs stays theirs in any absence. Her father cannot come back from the dead.

By the time she’s in her twenties, her brothers are released and giving her the life they’ve always promised. She lives in an apartment that suits all of them and while she has her own room, it’s not uncommon for her to find her way into the bed of one of her brothers just to sleep by their side. She still has nightmares about the way she was woken that one night as a child, but being with her brothers chases the monsters away. They are scarier than anything else she’s come across and they are always in her defence.

🌂

She doesn’t completely realize when it begins as it starts small. A kiss to the cheek that lands on the corner of her lips. A hand slipping under her shirt to rest at her waist because they’re cold when they’re all curled up on the couch together. Them being curled around her when she wakes up, one of their legs between hers. It doesn’t seem like anything because it’s not just her. Her brothers treat each other with the same casual closeness they show her.

She doesn’t care. Not really. Her brothers are the only ones she trusts. The only ones who have willingly murdered anyone who touched her. She was there when they beat their father to death. They held her any time she woke up screaming or crying, and pressed kisses to her hair as they promised they would never let anyone hurt her ever again.

And they didn’t. They never let anyone else near her. Their jealousy was obvious when they first caught her talking to a boy at her high school and continued until they banned her from their clubs unless she went with them. She was only allowed to dance with them, pressed in between her brothers as they grinded against her and told her she was the prettiest one there. She always would be. Their praise made her stomach flip and even though she knows it’s wrong, she can’t push them away. Fear of their abandonment tinged with a desire to keep them close makes her easy to mould…makes it easy to give in.

She’s twenty-two when one of them finally makes a move that can’t be ignored.

Ran presses his lips to hers with ease, as if he’s done it a thousand times before. She can’t stop the way she freezes in place, the way she stares at him, but her brother tucks a hair behind her ear. “Don’t wait up for us, princess. We’ll be back before dawn.”

“Ran, you just–” she cuts herself off, unsure if she wants to actually say it and make it real.

“I can’t kiss the one I love?” he asks, teasingly. “You want me to stop, I will.” He leans forward, lips brushing her ear as he whispers, “We’re not him, Ren. We’ll never hurt you.” He presses a kiss to her cheek. “Think about us while we’re gone.”

Rindou, never one to let his brother win, kisses her next. Quickly, before she even realizes he is, he pulls away and leaves first. It makes Ran laugh as he follows him out.

Renka is left reeling, torn by the fear that if she refuses they’ll leave her and the logic that tells her they’ve always been at her side. They’ve kept her between them for years. They wouldn’t abandon her if she says no. And…she doesn’t want to lose them. No matter what they’ve been through, they survived because of each other. She knows it’s unhealthy and it’ll never be anything they can boast about, but the only people she can picture in her future are her brothers. The only ones she’ll ever feel safe falling asleep next to are Ran and Rindou. It’s a terrible but easy choice to make.

🌂

They go slow as if they expect her to disappear, to run from them as she ran from her father. The difference is that while she ran from him, she was running towards them. They are her sanctuary. Her home.

For all the violence they cause, despite the blood on their hands, they’re soft with her. Only her.

Ran kisses her with slow, open-mouthed kisses, savouring in the way she whimpers into his lips. He treats her delicately, taking things at a pace that sometimes feels excruciating. He builds her up and pulls away until she finally breaks and yanks him back to her. She’s pretty sure he wants her to want him, to crave him the way he claims to feel for her.

Rindou kisses with desperation, as if he expects her to tell him to stop. He’s carefully attuned to her every move, every sound she makes. Rindou makes her feel wanted in a different way and sometimes, if it feels too much, he slows down. He’s happy enough to share her breath, waiting until she’s ready. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t put the words into the air, but she knows he’s scared she’s chooses Ran over him. As if that was ever possible. She’s theirs and they are hers.

The change is subtle but extreme.

They walk in without knocking. Rindou’s hand rests between her thighs when they sit together on the couch and Ran curls up with his face pressed against her breasts after she crawls into his bed. They kiss her without reservation and stop hiding the way they kiss each other. The first time it happens, that she walks in on how Ran has Rindou pinned to the wall, hands on his hips as he grinds against him and they look like they’re attempting to devour each other, she stands there watching. She’s not sure if it’s in surprise, shock or…something else, but she couldn’t look away.

It’s Rindou who sees her first. He grins at the sight of her watching before saying something to Ran that she doesn’t catch. Ran pulls away from sucking marks into Rindou’s neck. Ran looks up, gaze half-lidded as he looks over at her. “Wanna join, Princess?”

“I didn’t know…”

Rindou scoffs at her. “How’d you think we dealt with wanting you? With being locked up?”

Ran moves his hand to Rindou’s throat, pressing in and cutting him off from saying anything further. Rindou moans into it. “What our brother is trying to say is that there’s no one better for any of us than each other.”

She watches as her eldest brother gets on his knees before Rindou and undoes his belt. Rindou’s head falls back against the wall as Ran pulls him out of whatever underwear he’s wearing. Renka has felt her brother’s cocks hard against her before, mainly when she woke up with them pressed up against her, but this is different.

Rindou’s hand gathers Ran’s braids as he takes him in his mouth. Renka has only seen sex as something damaging, but the sight of Ran smiling as he takes Rindou’s cock in his mouth, the way Rindou groans and tries to thrust into him…reaffirms the idea that it’s not with her brothers. That the two of them have only ever been protective and kind. That even in this, as she watches them in this moment, they take care of each other. Of her.

🌂

Ran is the first. Of course he is.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs against her skin. She’s lying in his bed, shirt off and looking up at him. It’s late in the night. She woke up from a nightmare, not needing to sneak in because she was already in his bed. She barely has her own at this point. “Tell me if you need to stop, okay, princess?”

She nods because she trusts Ran, even if the feeling of his body on top of hers sends her heart racing. It’s different than before. She wants this now. She knows that. She trusts Ran to take care of her. Her brother always has.

“Promise. I wanna hear it.”

“I…” Renka takes a deep breath. “I promise.”

“Good.”

He takes his time, bestowing praises against her skin as he carefully maps out every curve she lets him explore. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake. He leaves marks as if he’s leaving a trail for Rindou to eventually follow. He encourages her to be vocal, that he wants to hear her. No one is covering her mouth this time. It’s just her and her big brother in this moment.

Ran buries his face between her thighs. He encourages her to bury her hands into his hair that’s loose and unbraided. Renka has never felt anything like this. The few instances of touching herself in the privacy of her room, exploring in hopes of erasing the assault that felt branded into her, never felt like Ran’s mouth does now.

He breaks her apart, makes her see stars behind her eyelids, and when he buries himself into her, it’s by her choice. He lies back on the bed and gives her the option of going further, of riding him. It’s nothing like she’s ever experienced and she somehow loves her brother all the more for giving her the choice…and the power to choose.

🌂

Rindou is not far behind. Once Ran has broken the final barrier between them, once she’s comfortable with that boundary being crossed, he follows with ease. He takes his time with her, but it’s different. Where Ran knew he was bridging a gap that was created by their father and morally by society, Rindou crosses it without looking back.

He fucks her on the couch.

He’s careful with her, don’t get her wrong, but while Ran lures her in with slow, mind-blowing sex, Rindou teaches her how to enjoy it faster. Harder. Until the only thing she knows is how to call his name while her legs are around his waist, begging him for more. He shows her how his weight on top of her isn’t a bad thing, how she can still have the control like that and how good it can feel giving up that control to someone she trusts.

Her confidence grows with the attention they lavish on her and it doesn’t take long before she finds herself between them in more ways than just dancing on the club floor. They teach her everything they think she’s missed. How she likes to be touched, pleasured and teased…and how she enjoys touching them in return. No matter how often they leave hickeys on her neck or bruises on her thighs, she feels nothing but loved by them. It doesn’t matter that the world says it’s wrong because Renka’s life has always been defined by the times with her brothers and without. She has always been safer with them.

There is a third Haitani.

She loves her brothers. Her brothers love her. More than they’re supposed to. They always have.

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

I'm not tagging anyone else lol

#fic: the lesser of two evils #tw incest #ran haitani x rindou haitani x oc #ran x oc #rindou x oc #haitani ran x oc #haitani fic #tokyo revengers fic #tw.incest #dark!fic

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tvvojstary · 2 years ago

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they’re in love your honor!!

#digital art #98hell #art #fanart #oc #tenjiku #ran #haitani ran #bonten #kanto manji #rokuhara tandai #tokrev #tokyo revengers #haitani ran x oc

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rinupi · 9 months ago

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#she doesn't hate ran dw #rindou x yui (oc)#rindou x oc #yui and ran have a funny sibling rs #tokyo revengers #haitani brothers #haitani rindou #haitani ran

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tobifuyu · 1 year ago

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Heatwave

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

A heatwave hits Tokyo and you have to deal with a clingy, and way too hot, Ran Haitani.

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fluff, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, whiny ran, ran is smitten.

words count: 3.8k

Sleeping in the same bed as Ran means waking up in a furnace. Lanky body stretching over the mattress, long limbs reaching over for you the moment you try running away from the heat.

It’s almost like he can sense you’re not by his side anymore, unconsciously trying to have you back in his arms.

Tonight the air in the room is unbreathable. It’s summer, the humidity makes the city feel way hotter than it should be. You forgot to turn the ac on and the idea of getting up to look for the remote in the dark is so far out of your mind.

“Ran, baby. Let go of me,” You mumble between shallow breaths, still too groggy to care about not slurring your words. You know it’s pointless, though, Ran is never gonna hear your desperate tone unless you arouse him from his sleep.

He is a deep sleeper and he doesn’t particularly enjoy getting woken up.

You try, once again, removing yourself from his hold. It hurts you, knowing how much he likes to cuddle with you in his sleep and how inviting his hands look resting on your skin, but you can already feel the sweat wetting the back of your neck. The moment you raise his heavy arm and lift the blanket from your body, you can hear him groan.

“Mh,” he grunts at you angrily, big palm coming to rest on your hip as he grabs it to pull your frame back into his chest.

God, this annoying man-child.

If he won’t let you go, there’s no other way to go about it if not by waking him up. You really don’t want to disturb his sleep, considering the ungodly hours he does at his job and how much he cares for his beauty rest, but he’s now impeding yours. You feel like dying in this heat and your throat is getting perched as minutes go by.

You turn in his hold, now facing him, shaking his frame as you call his name once again, “Baby please, just let me go, it’s too hot.”

“No,” his answer is raspy and stubborn like the man he is, and he lowers his head to rest it on the plush of your chest as he hums happily.

You let out a sigh of defeat and bring your hands to the back of his head, running the tips of your fingers between his un-gelled short locks out of habit.

“Just know that you’ll wake up tomorrow and I’ll be dead,” you’re just kidding, but the statement makes Ran slightly release his hold on you.

“Please, don’t go,” He sleepily whispers with such vulnerability that makes your heart ache for him. You scratch the patch of skin behind his ear and make him shiver in your embrace as you bend to kiss the crown of his head.

You love this man so much, you don’t think you could ever live without him.

You leave another peck on his forehead, then another on his nose as you scoot down to his level. His handsome face is puffy from sleep, and his lavender haze is now focused on you as you move closer to kiss his soft lips.

The press of your mouths together is short and sweet as he finally awakens.

“I’m not going anywhere, just a couple centimeters away from the radiator that is your body,” you try to explain, grasping his clenched jaw between your palms.

“Can’t sleep without you near,” he states as a matter of fact.

You know that is a lie, this man could sleep anywhere and at all times, but you don’t get to protest as he reaches over once again to kiss you. His lips encase yours while his nose rubs against your own, his eyes closing to savor the moment.

You gently push him away, scolding him with your stare as you tell him he’s not being reasonable or helpful, “At least get up to turn on the ac, if you wanna hold me so bad.”

“Or you could just get naked,” he suggests, winking as a smug grin makes its way on his pretty face. You know the moment the suggestion popped up in his head, he’s already getting ideas, you can sense it in the way his fingers are now running under the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Turn the ac on. And bring me some water while you’re at it, then I might even take my clothes off. Just for you,” you try to bribe him, but can’t help hiding an amused smile.

At first you think he’s not gonna do it, but then you hear him let out a groan as he stretches his long body and leaves the bed. Out of the two, he’s the one who cherishes sleep the most, but you’re the laziest.

The beep of the ac as he turns it on and the steps he takes to the kitchen resound in the otherwise silent room as you kick the covers to the bottom of the bed. As promised, you grasp the hem of your shirt to remove it and chunk it in the direction of the sofa, waiting for the cooling air to hit your panties-covered body.

When Ran comes back in the room, you’re slipping back into a slumber, but he pats your shoulder and cradles the back of your head in his palm, raising it to help you drink the cold water you requested.

“Thank you, baby,” you pull him in by the back of his neck as he sits the glass on the nightstand, now moving over your frame as he rests on his bent elbows.

“My pleasure,” he hums, lowering himself to touch your skin with his, hips settling between your parted legs while he pecks your lips, “Mh, I see you did get naked.”

Another peck, “‘course, I keep all of my promises.”

“That’s good,” your arms are draped loosely over his broad shoulders, hands running along the skin as you drag him even closer, “Means I get to be the one making you sweat now.”

Your chuckle gets cut short by his mouth descending onto yours, this time with a purpose. His kisses start slow, lips repeatedly encasing your own, as he sucks the skin enough to make it hurt, pleasurably.

Ran’s tongue runs across the seam of your mouth which you part willingly to let him in, meeting him halfway trying to fight for dominance because you like to irk him, no matter how pointless it might be.

He lets out a moan in your mouth, liking the way you’re fighting back, and your body instantly reacts to the sound by enclosing his hips between your thighs.

Ran starts rubbing against you while his cock hardens. He can already feel how wet you are through the cloth, the both of you only clad in underwear.

“Ran-“ you whisper his name between rushed kisses and the knocking of your teeth. He recognizes the desperation in your tone and reels in it. “Sh, baby. Let’s take it slow, mh?”

He’s doing it on purpose, he likes to drive you mad as much as you do. He’s a generous lover, but does not give without a little teasing.

His lips start carefully mapping out the path that he knows oh so well down your body. He has it memorized by now, and knows where to kiss, lick and bite to make you sound just the way he craves.

Ran reaches your exposed chest, sucking the pebbled nipple in his mouth as he caresses the other breast. You arch your back and press against him. He knows not to leave any part of you unattended, Ran loves to spoil you.

That’s why he can’t bring himself to tell you no when you grip his messy hair and bring him back up for another kiss, one of your hands reaching down to snap the elastic of his boxers over his pelvis, making him flinch and the both of you let out a laugh against each others’ lips at his reaction.

You reach inside the cotton to grasp his hardened length. He’s heavy and warm in your hold, you stroke him a couple of times and feel him get stiffer. With the pad of your thumb you circle his head, “Fuck,” he hisses when you press against his silt, precome collecting on your fingertips.

He’s kissing your neck now, enjoying the slow touches on his hardness, bucking his hips against your hand when you squeeze just a little tighter, “I thought you said to take it slow?” you tease him. Sometimes he needs to get a taste of his own medicine.

He stamps a kiss on your lips, loud and wet, and doesn’t even bother replying to you as he squats between your legs before grasping the sides of your panties. He drags them down slowly, fixed on your cunt getting exposed and the strings of your wetness sticking to the lace.

Ran takes a look at you, hair messy and sprawled on the pillow, cheeks rosy and chest heaving. Your pebbled nipples and spread legs are not the only things giving away how needy you are, “Fuck, so pretty.”

He bends down and your thighs squish his head the moment he laps at your clit. You love when he dives straight in, means he can’t wait to get a taste of you, but the zero warning on his side makes you moan loudly.

You lower your gaze onto his, fixed on your reddening face to memorize every single one of your reactions as he flattens his tongue over your cunt, the tip parting your lips to collect the liquid he has been craving a taste of.

“This wet already?” he snickers as he slaps your cunt with his palm, making you jump. His fingers find their way to your opening to massage and stretch the entrance as his lips are circling your clit, sucking it into his mouth to make sure you start pleading for him.

“Ran, baby. Please, want you inside,” you’re pulling on his hair, trying to get his face away from between your legs.

He complies, your neediness starting to get to him. He would love to spend hours between your thighs as he normally does, but he also knows the both of you are too tired for that, so he makes a mental note to wake you up with his tongue in the morning.

You take off his boxers swiftly, and he lets you because he lives off that look you get when you concentrate while doing something, whatever that may be. He’s just so smitten, if you could read his mind you’d never stop making fun of him. But he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he wishes you could, just so you might finally understand the weight of what he feels. Ran has never been great at sharing his feelings.

Settling between your legs is what he does after. Usually, he lets you ride him whenever he’s too tired to put you to sleep himself, but tonight he just wants you to lay there and let him love you. It’s been a long week of grueling work and he misses you. Craves you so much that he can’t resist your whines anymore.

“You sure you can take me like this, pretty girl?”

“Mhmh, ‘m positive. I need you so bad,” His cock is big, he usually spends some time prepping you, but you seem resolute about this as you grasp the base of his length and position his tip at your entrance. Ran hisses, the feeling of your warm skin brushing his is so delicious. You’re aware of how needy Ran can get when he’s tired, unlike his usual dominant self, and you have to admit you can’t help but feel even more turned on whenever you manage to make him whine for you.

When he pushes in, your jaw goes slack, no sound is coming out of your open mouth other than the deep breaths you take to keep yourself grounded. He is girthy, the very first time you had him made you nearly give up halfway through, but you’ve gotten used to taking him, and the burning stretch is now nothing but a reassurance of what pleasure is gonna come after.

The warmth of his forehead rests on your shoulder as he heaves in your ear, eyes squeezed shut and hands holding the fat of your hips to pin you down tightly. Ran needs a second to collect himself cause if he doesn’t he’s either gonna start fucking into you before you’re ready or just come from the way you’re gripping him alone.

You’re so wet, his cock is slipping in slowly and you can feel all of him, rounded tip and the veins on his length, brushing against your walls. Ran bottoms out but doesn’t dare to move, navel pressed so tightly against yours that when you try raising your hips you have very little wiggle room.

“Ran, baby, please?” Oh, Ran is just delighted. He loves when you call him baby, makes him feel loved and cared for, especially paired with the way you’re stroking the back of his head while cradling him and softly begging for him to move. So of course he does just that, he’d do anything to please you.

The canting of his hips starts slow, the drag of his cock feels delicious inside of you, and you spread your legs wider to make him reach even deeper. “Fuck, pretty girl. You feel so fucking good. S’good.” He’s a blubbering mess, his lips are leaving wet kisses all over your neck, making you moan out when he sucks on the soft patch of skin right below your ear.

“Want me to ride you?” You ask him, not wanting to move from under the weight of his body but also needing him to feel as good and taken care of as he always makes you feel.

“No need princess,” the kisses are now dragging lower towards your chest, he bites one of your nipples between his teeth making you arch your back once again, a sign that he’s collected himself and is offended by how quickly you were ready to take over. He grasps the back of your left knee in his hand, bending the leg while opening you up to him, far more than what you’re able to stretch on your own, and you feel him brush your cervix with his leaky tip. His thrusts are now harsher, he pulls out all the way just to slam back in, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he aims for that spot inside of you, the one he loves to hit while watching down on you as he is now, resting on his bent arm.

All the confidence you were sporting a moment ago is wiped from your face in mere seconds, now replaced by your big eyes filling with tears as the pleasure knocks the breath out of you. “Mh, that’s it, there’s my good girl. Let me do all the fucking now, will you?”

His cheeks are stained red, spit-slicked lips being bitten between his pearly whites as he glances down at where the two of you are connected. “Shit, look at that.” He’s not asking, he’s ordering you and you know better than to let your eyes flutter shut.

The grasp on the back of your thigh doesn’t waver as he pulls out, his other hand fisting the base of his length as he slaps it over your clit, dragging his precome and your wetness all over the reddening skin. He’s making a show of it. “You’re making a fucking mess. S’pretty and wet, all fo’ me. Right? Say it’s all fo’ me.”

The pad of his thumb is rubbing your puffy clit as he awaits your answer, holding back from fucking you until you can’t utter a single sentence anymore, “All for you, Ran!”

“That’s right, pretty girl. This pretty pussy is all mine.”

He slips back in, the squelching sound and panting are the only things your ringing ears can process after his sentence. You’re full-on moaning now, hands holding onto his shoulders as he moves above you. His fingers grasp the back of your other knee, locking both of them in the crease of his bent arms, bending your body at an angle that makes it so easy for him to piston into you, no matter how hard your cunt is clenching down on him. The coil in your lower belly is about to snap, you can’t think straight anymore with the way his purple eyes are staring down at you under the shade of his pretty lashes. “Ra-Ran!” You whine, scratching down his back with one of your hands, sure to be drawing blood. “‘m gonna come, baby, ‘m coming.”

His left hand slithers down between your bodies as he applies pressure over your navel, pushing down with all his might as he abuses your spot from the inside, thumb reaching lower to massage your clit. “Give it to me, pretty, come all over my cock.”

His deep voice is your undoing. You come with a call of his name, tightening your grip around his neck to pull him closer to your quivering body and down for a kiss. You can barely breathe, but the way his tongue sneaks inside your mouth makes the feeling of asphyxiation even sweeter.

Your orgasm is dragged out by his unstopping thrusts, the only giveaway of him acknowledging the fact that you came is the groans and moans the lets out against your lips at the way you’re squeezing him.

“Fuck Ran, baby, too much,” You’re back to begging, but now for him to stop. You’re getting overstimulated, the coarse hair over his length is brushing against your soft spot just right. But he’s relentless and starts to get ruthless in his speed.

You know he needs to come and that he’s not gonna let himself go unless you reach your high again. That’s just how Ran is, ripping one orgasm out of you is not enough for him. It’s not only to stroke his big ego, but also cause that is his way of showing love, of putting himself out there and drilling into your head how much he wants and needs you.

“One more pretty girl, just one more.”

You could tell him that you can’t, that you’re spent, but the both of you know it would be a lie. You want it just as much as he does, and all it takes is a couple more minutes for you to get used to his thrusting again, and for the overstimulation to blend into burning pleasure.

“Oh my fucking god– Ran, fuck fuck–“ You’re swearing loudly, gripping onto his body with both your arms and legs as he fucks into you like he means it. You love the way his frame towers over you, he’s so big and the strength he puts into his thrusts is impressive, hips slamming into yours repeatedly, the pressure of your pelvises crashing into one another is just as good as the way he’s shaping your insides.

“Want you to come fo’ me, need to feel you, my love,” His fingers find your clit once again, he flicks it before rubbing against it with precision, the wetness on the skin aiding his fast movements as he takes you to your end once again. “That’s it, baby, just like that. What a fucking good girl, milk me dry.” He’s holding your chin in a firm hold with his big palm, to keep you from looking away from him as fat tears run down your pretty face.

The sight of you makes him double over, his teeth are scraping your earlobe, Ran’s warm breath hits your neck as he pants and groans. He’s so close he’s lost it, his hips are stuttering and you take matters into your own hands as you buck up into him, your walls are clenching around his length with the aftermath of your orgasm.

“Come for me, baby,” You beg him in between deep breaths, hands tangled in his short locks. You use the hold on his hair to redirect his face in front of yours, planting your lips on his and stealing the remaining of his breath away, just like he loves doing to you. “Fill me up,” you whisper against his parted mouth, an invitation he can’t help but accept as he comes while saying your name, white ropes of cum sticking to your walls and overflowing your cunt as he pushes it back in with his sensitive cock.

“‘m gonna eat it out of you in the morning,” he promises shamelessly, referring to the mess the both of you made as he squeezes your ass, and a whimper leaves your lips at the picture he just painted in your head.

He crashes over your body, kissing your collarbone as he regains his breath.

Your mind is so foggy, all you can feel, hear, smell, and taste is Ran. It’s so euphoric. His movements slow to an alt as he comes down from his high. You feel full, warm, and sweaty and for a moment you remember the reason why you even got in this predicament in the first place, but you don’t care about the temperature of the room anymore as your spent bodies stay tangled together.

“Can’t move, ‘m too tired,” he mumbles against your damp skin, lazy eyes staring up at you apologetically.

“‘s okay, baby, rest,” You lay a kiss on his forehead after brushing away the loose hair, “Thank you for turning on the ac.”

Your voice is soft, you look at him with tired eyes and the gentle rise and fall of your chest is pulling him back under. He thinks he would do anything for you if you asked him.

“Mhmh, can I stay inside?” His eyelids are fluttering closed while you nod, not ready to part from his body just yet, “You’re gonna get cold if I don’t, I know you won’t last long with the ac on and I’m not getting up again, babygirl.” You laugh at his raspy voice, maybe he’s already slipping back into dreamland if he hasn’t realized you’ve already given your consent and he’s trying to bargain for a little more of you.

“You can keep me warm, my love. Thank you.”

And Ran is gonna do just that, not only tonight but every other night for the rest of your lives. He leaves a kiss above your left breast.

“No, thank you… I love you.”

Your heart does a backflip, and you hold him closer.

“Love you more, Ran.”

You’re never gonna ask him to let go of you ever again, no matter how hot it might get.

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