#haruchiyo sanzu

[candyeager]

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

— sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader

PART THREE 18.9k words

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

masterlist

Haruchiyo Sanzu is a menace. A relentless, goddamn menace. You never thought your day would end like this: chest heaving, lungs burning, and the icy river clutching your limbs as you fight to outswim him.

The water is like knives against your skin, each stroke of your arms a battle against the current’s merciless pull. Your muscles scream for relief, but you push forward, desperation outweighing exhaustion. The river churns around you, a cold, chaotic force, but it’s nothing compared to the chaos pounding in your chest.

Behind you, Sanzu moves through the water like a shark, a deadly predator with no intention of letting you escape.

You don’t feel bad about what you did. No, not in the slightest. If anything, there’s a flicker of pride burning beneath your fear, a stubborn satisfaction at the thought of his precious katana now rotting at the bottom of a dumpster. That cursed blade—sleek and gleaming, a symbol of everything twisted about him—had haunted you for years. Its absence from his side feels like a small victory, even if it might cost you your life.

“You really think you can fucking outrun me?” Sanzu’s voice tears through the air, sharp and furious, even over the roar of the river. 

The sound chills you more than the water ever could. But you don’t stop. You can’t. Every ounce of strength left in your body is channeled into moving forward, even as water splashes into your mouth, making you choke. Your legs are heavy, your strokes weaker with every second, and deep down, you know he’s gaining on you.

Then you feel it.

Fingers tangle in your hair, wrenching your head back with brutal force. Pain explodes across your scalp, and your scream is cut short by the river’s icy grip as you’re dragged under for a moment. You thrash and kick, limbs flailing uselessly, but his hold is unyielding. Sanzu pulls you closer with the ease of someone completely at home in the water, his grip like iron and his strokes deliberate.

“You’ve got some nerve, I’ll tell you that,” he growls, his breath hot against your ear despite the freezing water. “But not enough brains.”

“Stop it!” you gasp, twisting in his grasp, but it only makes him tighten his grip.

“Stop? Now you want to stop?” he echoes, mocking, each word laced with venom. “You started this. Don’t tell me you’re giving up already.”

His fingers release your hair, but before you can lunge forward, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you tight against him. His chest presses against your back, solid and immovable, and you feel the steady beat of his heart, infuriatingly calm.

“Fuck this! Let me go!” you shout, desperation in your voice, but Sanzu only laughs, low and dark, the sound of his laughter reverberating through your body.

“Keep squirming,” he murmurs, his lips close to your ear. His breath is warm against your wet skin, a stark contrast to the icy water. “It’s cute how you think that’s going to help.”

The chill of the river feels distant now, overshadowed by the heat of his body pressed against yours. His chest rises and falls with controlled, steady breaths, while you struggle just to keep yours from hitching in fear. 

Sanzu drags you through the water effortlessly, like you’re nothing more than a ragdoll. Even when your feet finally scrape against the muddy riverbank, it’s not relief you feel—only dread. He doesn’t release you. Instead, he hauls you out of the water with an ease that makes your stomach churn, his grip firm and unforgiving.

Before you can think to run, he’s on top of you, pressing you down against the earth, his knees digging into the dirt on either side of your body. The ground is cold, wet, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating from him. Water drips from his pink hair, his soaked clothes clinging to his lean, muscled frame.

“Oh, you thought you could escape me, did you?” he says, his tone dripping with mockery. “You underestimate me too much.”

Your chest heaves as you glare up at him, defiance flickering in your eyes despite the ache in your limbs and the bruising grip of his hand. 

“I could’ve—” your voice is sharp, cutting through the pounding in your ears, “if you weren’t such a lunatic.”

Sanzu’s lips curve into a smirk, a dangerous spark flickering in his teal eyes. His fingers, damp and cold, brush against your jaw, forcing your face upward. You flinch at his touch, but he holds you still, his thumb grazing the pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin. 

“Careful now,” he murmurs, his voice as smooth as silk yet laced with steel. “You’ve already pissed me off. Don’t make this worse for yourself, sweetheart.”

Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms to stave off the rising wave of panic. Every nerve in your body screams at you to shove him away, to fight, to do something. But his weight presses down on you, solid and immovable, pinning you in place. 

Deep down, you know there’s no escaping Haruchiyo Sanzu today. 

And judging by the wicked grin that spreads across his face, he knows it too.

“So what?” you snap, but the sharpness of your tone falters as his unrelenting gaze bears down on you. It’s like staring into a storm, unpredictable and cruel. “You gonna strangle me? Threaten to kill me again?”

“Threaten?” His smile widens. “What makes you think I won’t kill you for real this time?”

The threat hangs in the air like a blade poised to strike. Sanzu dips his head lower, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I warned you, didn't I?” His voice is low, almost a whisper. “I can end anyone—anyone. You’re no different. A flick of my wrist, and you’re gone. Don’t ever forget that.”

You flinch at his words, your breath hitching as the reality of them settles over you. You’re painfully aware of how easy it would be for him to make good on his threat. This isn’t bravado—it’s the cold, unyielding truth. Sanzu doesn’t bluff.

“To think I actually showed you pity,” he mutters. “Gave you comfort, even, while you were bawling over Mikey.”

The mention of Mikey’s name hits like a sucker punch, dragging air from your lungs. Sanzu watches you, his eyes glittering with that familiar sadistic delight, as though your pain is just another game for him to toy with.

But even as your chest tightens, anger starts to simmer beneath the surface. You snort, the sound bitter and jagged, tearing its way free despite the tremor in your body. It’s involuntary, absurd, like every other moment with him. 

“Comfort?” you echo, the word dripping with disbelief. 

A flicker of confusion crosses Sanzu’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, irritation hardening his features. His eyes narrow, sharpening like twin daggers, locking onto yours with unrelenting force.

“Yeah, comfort,” he snaps, his tone defensive, like the very suggestion that he’s in the wrong offends him. “What? Need me to spell it out for you?”

Your stomach churns, anger bubbling inside you. His twisted sense of comfort, the smugness in his tone—as if he’d done you some noble favor—it’s enough to make your blood boil. You lean forward without thinking, every ounce of rage clawing its way up your throat, refusing to let him have the upper hand.

“You call that comfort?” you spit, the accusation landing between you like a grenade.

Sanzu doesn’t flinch. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look away.

“You gave me drugs, Sanzu,” you continue, your voice rising with every word. “That’s your idea of comfort? Dulling me down? Making me numb? How the hell is that comfort?”

At that said, you see his teasing smirk vanish entirely, wiped away like a smear of paint, and what’s left is a man unhinged. Without warning, his hand shoots up, his fingers curling around your jaw with bruising force.

“Shut your mouth,” he hisses, leaning closer until his face is inches from yours. “You were a fucking mess. Sobbing. Falling apart. I did you a fucking favor. You hear me? I fixed you.”

Your heart pounds against your ribs, each beat echoing in your ears. The rushing sound of the river fades into the background, leaving nothing but his voice and the weight of his hand on your face.

But even as fear twists in your chest, rage burns hotter.

“You didn’t fix me,” you say, your voice trembling but fierce. “You ruined me.”

His eyes flash, a dangerous glint sparking in their depths. He doesn’t let go, his fingers digging into your skin as though he’s trying to imprint his version of the truth onto you.

“You were already broken,” he sneers. “I just made it easier for you to handle. Don’t act like you didn’t need it.”

You glare up at him, defiance flaring despite the way your pulse races beneath his hand. “I didn’t need you,” you snap, spitting the words like venom. “And I never will.”

His grip continues to tighten painfully, making you wince. For a moment, you think he might snap entirely from the way his dark, intense eyes bore into you, his expression a mask of barely suppressed violence. You can almost feel the heat radiating off him, a pure, unadulterated rage.

But then, from the shadows, a voice cut through the silence.

“Sanzu.”

The single word carries no urgency, no anger, but it’s laced with authority—calm, controlled, and utterly commanding.

Sanzu’s grip loosens just slightly, his head snapping toward the sound. His entire demeanor shifts in an instant, the manic edge in his eyes flickering and fading. You turn your head too, your breath catching as you catch sight of him stepping out of the darkness.

Mikey.

He stands a few feet away, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes flicker between you and Sanzu, assessing the situation in a glance, the faint frown on his face betraying a sliver of displeasure.

The sight of him hit you like a physical blow, your chest tightening painfully. How long has it been since you’d last seen him? Since the day you’d walked away? Time blurs in the aftermath, but now, with him standing there, it feels as though no time has passed at all.

Sanzu’s grip on your jaw loosens, but he doesn’t release you immediately. His fingers linger, teal eyes flicking back to yours, scanning your face as though searching for something. You can’t tell what—fear, defiance, or maybe something he doesn’t even understand himself.

“Late, as always,” Sanzu mutters, his tone casual, but the tightness in his jaw betrays his unease.

Mikey doesn’t waver, his voice steady as steel. “Let her go.”

Sanzu doesn’t move at first. His fingers remain curled around your jaw, the pressure a subtle reminder of his power over you. But then, slowly, he releases you, his hand falling away as he straightens.

You gasp for breath, your hand flying to your sore jaw as you scramble to sit up. Your limbs tremble, but you can’t bring yourself to meet Mikey’s eyes—not yet. The weight of his presence is overwhelming, suffocating.

“She’s lucky I didn’t kill her,” Sanzu mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets as he steps back.

Mikey’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before shifting back to Sanzu. His expression remains impassive, but the silence between them is heavy, crackling with unspoken tension.

“Go,” Mikey says finally.

Sanzu raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint sneer. 

“As you wish, boss,” he says, his tone taunting, though he doesn’t linger. With a mocking salute, he turns and strides off into the shadows, leaving you alone with Mikey.

The silence that follows is deafening.

You stay on the ground, your breathing uneven as you try to steady yourself. The ache in your jaw is nothing compared to the storm raging inside you.

And for the first time in a long time, you realize you don’t know who scares you more: Haruchiyo Sanzu, the unhinged and dangerous man who just walked away, or Manjiro Sano, the boy you once loved who now looms over you like a stranger cloaked in darkness.

Haruchiyo Sanzu’s presence makes it impossible to focus. You’re back at the café where, just hours ago, you’d seen Mikey with his wife. Now, Mikey sits in front of you, his familiar gaze fixed on your face, while Sanzu lingers in the periphery, leaning casually against the wall. You can feel his teal eyes on you even when you’re not looking.

“You’re okay?” Mikey’s voice cuts through your train of thought, snapping your attention back to him. “You look pale.”

The truth hovers just below the surface. Of course, you’re not okay. How could you be? His concern, once something you found so grounding, now feels like salt in an open wound. It’s like he’s still trying to play the role of your savior when he was the one who let you fall.

“Never better,” you say sharply, the sarcasm laced so thick it almost chokes you.

It’s not a lie. Not entirely. Never better because you’ve finally been forced to stand on your own, but never worse because Mikey—because he’s Mikey—makes it impossible to forget what you lost.

Mikey sighs quietly, the sound so familiar yet so infuriating. It’s the same sigh he always gave when he thought you were being unreasonable, and it only stirs your anger further.

“I still care,” he starts but then stops, swallowing back the rest of the sentence. His jaw tightens, and he adjusts his words like he’s afraid of what he might say next, “I’ve always wanted the best for you, even now.”

You almost laugh, the bitterness rising in your throat. The best for me? If that were true, would you even be here, unraveling piece by piece? His words are like a knife, and he doesn’t even know he’s holding it.

“I heard you moved out of your old apartment,” he adds, as if that’s what matters right now. 

Our old apartment, you correct silently, the words bitter on your tongue. The place where Mikey used to hold you through restless nights, where laughter once filled the air, and where you’d built your life together. But now, it’s just a place you couldn’t bear to stay in, a graveyard for everything you thought would last.

“If there’s anything I can do to help—”

“Like what?” you snap, your words cutting through his sentence. “You think I can’t survive without you?”

Mikey doesn’t answer right away, and the silence that follows only worsens the sting. His hesitation is maddening, but worse is the look that settles on his face—soft, almost pitying. It makes your blood boil.

You know you’re digging your own grave. You’ve relied on Mikey since you were sixteen, leaning on him for support in every way that mattered. It’s obvious you’ve survived this long because of him, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start now. That doesn’t mean you need him anymore.

Still, his silence gnaws at you, and when he finally speaks, his voice is calm, measured, like he’s walking on eggshells.

“I know you can,” he says gently. “You’re strong, capable, and I admire that. But if you ever need someone to lean on, I’m here for you. You can depend on me.”

His words should feel like a lifeline, but instead, they feel like chains. Because you know what he’s really saying. He’s offering help, but it’s the kind that comes with the knowledge that you’ll always be just a little weaker than him. 

That you’ll always need him. 

“Depend on you?” you repeat, your voice cold, biting. “That’s rich coming from someone who left. You're the one who fucked me up, Mikey!”

Your words hang in the air, sharp and unforgiving. Heads turn toward you, curious eyes flicking your way, but you don’t care. Let them stare. Let them hear every word—every ounce of pain he left behind. It’s either your voice rises, or your dam breaks. And you’d rather be seen as crazy than weak.

Especially in front of him.

Mikey’s face tightens, his hands curling into fists on the table, but he doesn’t interrupt. His silence only fuels your rage, pushing you closer to the edge.

“I don’t need your help,” you continue, your voice rising. “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone! I’ve been fine these past months—”

Lies. All lies.

You haven’t been fine. You’ve been living in survival mode, barely holding yourself together. Nights spent staring at the ceiling, choking on the weight of your own heartbreak. The fragile pieces of your heart held together by sheer will.

“—And honestly, I’d rather trust a lunatic like Sanzu than you. At least he’d be honest about being a monster.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know Sanzu’s eyes are on you, boring into the side of your head. You can feel the weight of his gaze even as you refuse to look his way. He’s going to kill you for that, for calling him a monster, but you’re too angry to care.

Across the table, Mikey lowers his gaze to his hands, his expression shadowed. He has the audacity to look ashamed—whether it’s of himself or of you, you don’t know. And you don’t care anymore.

The weight in your chest feels unbearable now, pressing down on you like it’s trying to crush the air from your lungs. You rise to your feet abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Without a second glance at Mikey, or anyone else for that matter, you storm out of the café.

Sanzu is standing by the door, but you don’t even look at him as you pass by. You can still feel his gaze on you, following your every step.

Outside, the chill bites at your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the storm inside you. The world feels too bright, too loud, and too indifferent to your pain. The tears that blur your vision now are hot, a stark contrast to the cold air brushing against your cheeks. You wipe them away furiously, but they keep coming, spilling over like water from a broken dam.

And then you see her.

You freeze. 

It’s her. Mikey’s wife.

The source of your pain, your heartbreak, your sleepless nights. 

She’s standing across the street, radiant and serene, as if she belongs to another world entirely—a world without heartbreak, without sleepless nights, without you. The sight of her punches the air from your lungs. You can’t look away, even though every fiber of your being screams at you to turn around, to run.

Her beauty is effortless, the kind of beauty that doesn’t try but still outshines everything. She moves with the grace of someone who knows exactly where they belong, her confidence unshaken by the storm she’s left in her wake. You feel the cracks in your resolve widening with every step she takes, every smile she offers to her bodyguard as he opens the car door for her.

She steps into the sleek black car with the kind of ease that feels like mockery. It’s just another perfect day for her, another moment where her life glides forward without a hitch. And here you are, standing on the sidewalk with your heart shattered into pieces so small they might never come back together.

Your knees feel weak, your vision swimming as the tears threaten to consume you entirely. The world spins, a dizzying blur of faces and voices, and for a moment, you think you might collapse right here. Let the concrete catch you, let the city swallow you whole—anything to escape this unbearable weight.

Then all of a sudden, you hear that familiar deep, gravelly voice.

“Get in the car. I’m sending you home.”

You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. The voice, the aura—it’s unmistakably him. He's followed you out of the café, his presence as persistent as the evening’s chill.

You slowly turn, and there he is—Sanzu. 

The car nearest to you beeps as he unlocks it, slipping his keys back into his pocket with a flick of his wrist. His movements are smooth, controlled, and yet there’s an underlying tension that makes the air between you feel heavy. He steps closer, his smirk sharp, but his eyes—those teal eyes—are watching you too closely, betraying something deeper beneath his casual façade.

“You’re a mess,” he says, his voice low, almost lazy. “But I guess that’s not exactly breaking news, is it?”

You glare at him, the tears still hot on your cheeks. “And why the hell do you care?”

Sanzu’s smirk twitches and almost falters, but he catches himself. He leans in slightly, close enough that you can see the faint scar near his lips, the faint gleam of sharpness in his eyes.

“Care? Oh, sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself,” he drawls, his tone dripping with condescension. 

“I’m only here because Mikey asked. Said you were gonna embarrass yourself if I didn’t get you off the street. And, well…” He tilts his head, his grin widening just enough to make your blood boil some more. “He’s probably right.”

His words hit like a slap, and your hands curl into fists at your sides. “Go to hell, Sanzu,” you snap, turning to walk away. “I don’t need a babysitter, least of all you.”

But you don’t make it far before his voice cuts through the air again.

“You really think I’d let you walk around like that?” he says, the sharpness in his tone stopping you in your tracks. 

You turn back to face him, and this time, his expression has shifted. The smirk is still there, but it’s quieter now, his eyes narrowing as they study you.

“You’ve got tear stains on your face, your hands are shaking, and you just screamed at Mikey loud enough to wake half the city,” he continues. “So tell me, princess, what’s your grand plan? Walk until you fucking collapse? Or maybe you’re hoping someone worse than me will pick you up?”

You swallow hard, his words cutting deeper than you want to admit. But you refuse to let him see how much they affect you. 

“I’ll be fine,” you bite out, lifting your chin defiantly. “I don’t need anyone.”

Sanzu laughs, a sharp, humorless sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Yeah, that’s cute. Real cute. But here’s the thing: I don’t give a damn what you think you need right now. You’re getting in the car.”

You shake your head, your anger rising again. “You don’t get to decide—”

His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist—not hard, but firm enough to make you freeze. His gaze locks onto yours, and for the first time, the mask he wears cracks just slightly.

“Listen,” he says quietly, his voice losing its usual edge. “You’re not fine. And I’m not about to let you spiral because you’re too damn stubborn to admit it.”

The unexpected hint of concern catches you off guard. You stare at him, searching his face for any form of an explanation, but all you find is that same unreadable look he always gives you.

He lets go of your wrist, stepping back. “Do us both a favor,” he mutters, his tone sharp again. “Quit wasting my time and get in. Or do you want Mikey to think you’re this pathetic?”

The mention of Mikey’s name is enough to make your blood boil all over again, and you storm past Sanzu, sliding into the passenger seat with a huff. You slam the door shut, refusing to look at him as he rounds the car and slips into the driver’s seat.

The engine roars to life, and as the car pulls away from the curb, you can feel his gaze flicker toward you. He doesn’t say anything else, but the silence between you feels heavier than words.

You glance out the window, your chest still tight, your mind racing. You don’t know what’s more unsettling: the fact that Sanzu came for you, or the fact that, for all his mockery and death threats, a part of you believes he might actually care.

Haruchiyo Sanzu confuses you. He always has.

The memory of your first meeting lingers in your mind, a thorn that never dulls. His hair was its natural pale blonde back then, the soft strands a stark contrast to the sharpness of his features. Most of his face was hidden behind that ever-present black mask, as if he wanted to stay hidden even in plain sight. But his eyes—the way they raked over you, cold and unwelcoming—made it clear enough that you were an outsider.

“Can't believe Mikey’s letting some chick walk all over him like that,” he had said the first time he saw you, his tone as cutting as the edge of a blade. “She’s probably got him wrapped around her little finger, sucking all the edge right out of him. Pathetic.”

He didn’t bother lowering his voice, didn’t care that you were within earshot. To him, you weren’t someone worth sparing. You were an anomaly in Mikey’s meticulously crafted world—a fragile thing, bound to break and take Mikey down with you.

It hadn’t hurt back then, not the way it might now. At the time, Haruchiyo Sanzu had been nothing more than an arrogant, brooding boy—a shadow that clung too closely to Mikey. A boy with a fervent, almost fanatical loyalty that bordered on obsession.

Even then, though, there had been an unshakable truth about him: Sanzu would do anything for Mikey.

You hadn’t realized how much weight that truth carried until the day you were forced to rely on him. Mikey had been surrounded—dozens of enemies closing in, their shouts echoing in the air like a war drum. You’d known Mikey could handle himself. He always could. But something primal, something terrifying, had clawed its way into your chest, leaving you breathless and desperate.

And so, against your better judgment, you’d turned to Sanzu. You still remembered the way he had looked at you like you were dirt on his shoes, something insignificant and beneath him. 

“Scram, you little brat!” he’d snapped, his tone laced with warning. “You’re out of your league here, so fucking get lost!”

But despite his words, he went. Without hesitation, without question. You’d stood frozen, watching as he moved—his katana gleaming like liquid silver, cutting through the chaos with terrifying precision. Blood sprayed, painting the air with crimson streaks, and the sound of steel meeting flesh rang in your ears.

Sanzu had been merciless. Efficient. Unstoppable.

Mikey was the same, you knew that. But Mikey never let you see that part of him. He was careful with you, always holding something back, as if he didn’t want to shatter the image of the boy you thought he was.

But Sanzu? He never cared about sparing you.

You’d always been an outsider in his eyes.

And yet, now, years later, after everything—after all the threats, the hatred, after your messy, heartbreaking breakup with Mikey—you find yourself sitting in Sanzu’s car, the hum of the engine the only sound between you.

It feels wrong.

Haruchiyo Sanzu isn’t the type to care, to go out of his way to help someone. Especially not you. And yet, here you are, gripping the edge of your seat as he drives you home.

The streets blur past the window, streaks of gold and crimson from the setting sun spilling across the world outside. You catch his reflection in the glass—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his lips press into a faint scowl even when he’s relaxed.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t glance at you. But his presence fills the car like a storm cloud, heavy and inescapable.

Your gaze drifts to his hands—one on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. His long fingers tap a slow, absent rhythm, betraying a restless energy he won’t let show anywhere else. The tendons shift under his skin, his movements deceptively delicate for someone who wields death so easily.

The light hits his face just right as you glance at him. The gold of the sunset softens the hard lines of his features, catches in his pink hair, and makes it glow like a firelight. For a fleeting moment, he doesn’t look like the Haruchiyo Sanzu you know.

Not the lunatic you’ve always known. Not the monster who once strangled you while high, forcing your first pill down your throat under the pretense of “comfort.” Not the Haruchiyo Sanzu who swings his katana without a second thought, who laughs at the chaos he creates.

No, this version of him—silent, calm, almost serene—feels like someone else entirely.

The thought unsettles you.

You shake your head, trying to banish it. This is Sanzu, you remind yourself. The lunatic. The monster. The man you have every reason to hate.

But even as the words repeat in your mind, they sound weaker than they should.

The car rolls to a stop outside your apartment, and for a moment, neither of you moves. The silence stretches, heavy and taut, until it feels like the weight of unspoken words might crush you. But he doesn’t speak. He never does when it matters.

You step out of the car, the door closing with a soft click behind you. The evening air bites at your skin, but you barely feel it as you turn back to watch him. His face is unreadable, eyes fixed straight ahead, his fingers still tapping that absent rhythm on his thigh.

The car pulls away, his taillights vanishing into the distance, leaving you standing there, alone and more confused than ever.

Haruchiyo Sanzu confuses you.

And tonight, as the memory of his quiet presence lingers, you hate that he does.

Actually, scratch that.

Haruchiyo Sanzu is a damn petty bastard.

For a brief, fleeting moment, you’d thought the two of you might’ve reached some unspoken understanding. Sure, no words were exchanged, and yes, all he did was drive you home. But still, there had been a quiet truce in the air—a rare moment of something that almost resembled civility.

Clearly, you were wrong.

The realization hits you the second you step into your apartment.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re frozen in place. The space you’ve spent months trying to make your own—your sanctuary—is unrecognizable. Empty.

Gone is the couch where you spent lazy afternoons staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Gone are the shelves, once filled with books and little trinkets that held pieces of you. Your bed—your safe haven after long, grueling days—nothing but an empty outline on the floor now. Even the faint scent of lavender, your ever-present diffuser, has vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of nothingness.

Your footsteps echo as you take a cautious step forward, the sound bouncing off bare walls, mocking you. The knot in your stomach tightens, your mind scrambling for explanations that don’t exist. For a brief, desperate second, you think maybe there’s been some mistake. 

But the truth—the infuriating, maddening truth—is instant and undeniable.

The only person who knows your new address is Haruchiyo Sanzu.

Your chest tightens as fury ignites in you, searing hot and fast. Of course it’s him. Who else would have the audacity? The lunacy?

You think back to last week, to the moment you thought, stupidly, that he might’ve been capable of a shred of decency. The way he’d driven you home without a single cruel jab. The way he’d let you leave his car without some biting remark to twist the knife. You’d wanted to believe there was some humanity lurking beneath the madness.

How naive.

This—this empty apartment, this gutted wreckage of your life—is his grand fucking statement.

He’d sent you home just so he could rip it all away again.

You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as fury courses through you. It’s not hard to figure out why he did it. Beyond the fact that he’s a complete lunatic, this has revenge written all over it. He’s still pissed about you dumping his precious katana into the dumpster like the trash it was. This is payback. The emptiness surrounding you is proof of that.

How fucking petty.

Your gaze sweeps over the barren apartment, landing on the empty space where your coffee table used to be. Fury roils in your chest, spilling out in waves, hotter with every passing second. If you’d known it would come to this, you wouldn’t have stopped at tossing his katana.

No, you’d have gone for the jugular.

You’d have stolen his entire stash of pills, the ones he guards like a feral dog. The ones he pops like candy, always chasing some chemical peace he’ll never find. Or better yet—burned down his condominium entirely.

No. You’d evacuate everyone first, of course. You’re not a monster.

But Sanzu? You’d leave him there. Trapped. Let the fire consume everything he holds dear—his overpriced furniture, his meticulously curated wardrobe, his godforsaken colorful pills. You can almost picture it: flames licking at his skin, his screams swallowed by the roaring inferno.

The image is so vivid, so satisfying, it almost makes you smile. Almost.

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away. No. You’re not a murderer. 

You’re not him.

But standing here in this gutted shell of your home, your hands trembling with barely restrained rage, it’s hard to hold onto that truth.

Sanzu has this way of dragging you down to his level, of twisting your emotions until the unthinkable feels reasonable. He pushes and prods and poisons until there’s nothing left but anger and the quiet hum of violence that he wears like a second skin.

And right now? Right now, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more in your entire life.

Sanzu.

That goddamn petty bastard.

“Haruchiyo Sanzu! Go to hell!”

Your scream tears through the bustling city noise, sharp and furious, loud enough to make heads turn. People stop mid-step, startled by the force of it, but you don’t care. You’re standing at the edge of the footbridge, your fists clenched so tightly that your nails dig into your palms. And there he is—the man himself—walking casually along the road below you like he hasn’t turned your entire life upside down.

Sanzu stops in his tracks, turning slightly to glance up at you. For a moment, his teal eyes widen in genuine shock, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

Good. Let him be shocked. Let him know exactly what’s coming.

The fire inside you burns hotter as you storm down the bridge. It’s been raging ever since you stepped into your empty apartment and realized he was behind it. You hadn’t even stopped to think before running to his condominium. 

For thirty minutes, you’d pounded on his door like a lunatic, your voice hoarse from shouting his name. Your rage was loud enough to bring out one of his neighbors, a sour-faced old man who only stepped outside to inform you, with no small amount of irritation, that Sanzu had left ten minutes ago.

You’d muttered a half-hearted apology to the neighbor before taking off again, your rage fueling every step. You’d searched the streets near his condo like a woman possessed, the thought of spending the night on a cold, hard floor making you see red.

If anyone’s sleeping uncomfortably tonight, it’ll be Sanzu. Preferably on his deathbed.

And now, after all that, you’ve found him. Walking casually toward his sleek black car. He looks calm. Relaxed. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he hasn’t just uprooted your life for the sake of some petty, calculated revenge.

Your shout stops him, but only for a second.

He blinks, his momentary surprise melting into something unreadable. Then, without a word, he turns away and keeps walking, as if nothing happened.

The audacity.

Your feet move before your brain catches up, propelling you forward with reckless speed. The world around you blurs—faces, voices, none of it registers. Passersby step aside, startled by the sheer force of your determination, their wide-eyed stares sliding off you like water off glass.

All you can focus on is Sanzu.

He’s climbing into the back seat of his sleek black car now, his movements deliberate, calm, unbothered. Pretending he doesn’t see you, pretending he didn’t just hear you scream his name moments ago.

He doesn’t even look at you as he settles in the back seat, his long fingers gripping the edge of the door. His lack of acknowledgment feels like a slap to the face, stoking the fire in your chest until it threatens to consume you.

Not today.

You slam your palm against the car door just as he begins to close it, the force of it rattling the frame. The sound echoes through the air, startling even you with its sharpness.

“What?” you demand, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. “Running away now?”

Sanzu looks up at you with maddening calm, his teal eyes catching the glow of the streetlights. For a split second, you think he might actually take you seriously. But then it happens—that smirk. That insufferable, smug curve of his lips that makes your anger spike higher. It’s the kind of smirk that tells you he’s been expecting this, that he’s been waiting for you to find him.

And worse? He’s enjoying it.

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” he says smoothly, leaning back against the seat with an air of infuriating nonchalance. “I never run away from a fight.”

The deliberate ease of his tone feels like gasoline on the fire. His teal eyes glint with amusement, and that smirk of his—God, that smirk—widens just enough to make your fists itch.

“But,” he continues smoothly, as if he has all the time in the world, “as much as I’d love to fight you right now and remind you of your place, I’ve got a meeting in ten.” 

He taps his watch, feigning impatience. “So, unfortunately, I’m not exactly in the mood to entertain your whining.”

Whining.

The sheer arrogance in his tone makes your vision blur for a moment, your nails digging into your palms as you clench your fists. He’s doing this on purpose, you realize. Poking at your anger, stoking the flames, and loving every second of it.

“Don’t fucking test me, Sanzu!” you snap, your voice sharp with barely restrained fury. The effort it takes to keep yourself from grabbing him by the collar is monumental. “Give me back my things!”

Sanzu tilts his head slightly. “Your things? You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

You take a step closer, narrowing your eyes at him. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you growl. “My apartment. My furniture. Everything’s gone because you took it. All of it.”

“Oh, that.” His smirk deepens, and he shrugs like it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world. “Yeah, that stuff’s gone.”

“Gone?” Your voice rises, your frustration boiling over. “What the hell does that mean? Gone where?”

Sanzu chuckles, the sound low and cutting, like a blade slipping between your ribs. He leans forward slightly, resting his elbow on his knee as he looks at you with the arrogance of someone who knows exactly how much power they hold.

“That,” he says smoothly as if he’s savoring every moment of your frustration, “is for me to know and for you to find out.”

The smug satisfaction in his tone makes your skin prickle, and for a moment, the entire world narrows to just the two of you. The bustling city, the distant car horns, the faint hum of streetlights—all of it fades away under the weight of his words.

“You think this is funny?” you hiss, your voice trembling with barely restrained rage.

He leans back again, stretching out like a king on his throne, his smirk never faltering. 

“Hilarious, actually,” he replies, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “The look on your face right now? Worth every second.”

You want to scream, to claw that smirk off his face, to make him understand just how far he’s pushed you. But deep down, you know that’s exactly what he wants. Sanzu thrives on chaos—on control. And right now, he has both in the palm of his hand.

So you force yourself to take a deep breath, though it does little to calm the storm raging inside you. Losing your temper won’t get you anywhere. The only way to deal with someone like Sanzu is to stay rational, no matter how impossible that feels.

With that thought, you grab the front of his shirt and yank him toward you, your fingers curling into the expensive fabric. You lean against the car door, bending slightly so you’re face-to-face with him.

For the first time, his smirk falters.

It’s subtle, but it’s there—a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He doesn’t like to be handled this way, that much is obvious. But you’re too angry to care.

“Fine,” you snap. “Since you’re incapable of being civilized, I’ll be civilized enough for both of us.”

Your glare sharpens, and you tighten your grip on his shirt, tugging him closer. “That stupid katana—I’ll pay you back. Name a price, and then stop with this bullshit.”

The silence that follows is heavy, crackling like static between you. He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t quip. For once, he seems caught off guard—or maybe he’s just letting the moment stretch to keep you guessing. His teal eyes pierce into yours, unreadable, and for the briefest second, you wonder if you’ve finally managed to throw him off his game.

But that fleeting moment vanishes as quickly as it came. His hand moves—a blur—and clamps around your wrist.

“Sanzu—”

You barely manage to gasp his name before he yanks you forward with a sharp, practiced tug. The force of it throws you off balance, and you stumble, landing unceremoniously on his lap.

The sharp sound of the car door slamming shut beside you snaps like a gunshot in your ears, reverberating through the tense air. You freeze, your breath catching as the suffocating closeness of the car settles over you like a vice.

Panic surges in your chest, but Sanzu doesn’t give you a chance to react. He shifts slightly, leaning forward to address the driver—someone you hadn’t even noticed until now, silent and impassive behind the wheel.

“Drive,” Sanzu orders, his tone low and commanding.

The car lurches into motion, and you instinctively reach for the door handle, your heart racing. “What the hell—”

Your fingers barely graze the metal before Sanzu’s hand catches yours in an iron grip.

You whip your head toward him, fully intending to glare, to demand answers, to fight. But whatever words you had prepared dissolve the moment you meet his gaze.

He’s close. Too close.

Your face is mere inches from his, so close you can make out every detail: the pale green of his eyes flecked with grey, the sharp arch of his blond eyebrows, the faint scars at the corners of his mouth. His cologne envelops you—spicy, woodsy, intoxicating in a way that makes your pulse stutter.

Your hand, trembling with adrenaline, presses against his chest, and you curse inwardly as you feel the steady, unnervingly calm beat of his heart beneath your palm. He’s not rattled, not even a little. Meanwhile, your own heart feels like it’s trying to break free from your ribcage.

His body is solid, unyielding beneath the expensive fabric of his shirt. Every subtle shift of his frame feels deliberate and controlled, as if, even in this chaos, he’s still the one pulling the strings.

Sanzu tilts his head slightly, his lips curving into the faintest trace of a smirk. Not the full, insufferable grin you’re used to, but a softer, sharper smirk, and infinitely more dangerous.

“You said you’d pay me back,” he murmurs, his voice so low and velvety that it sends a shiver down your spine despite your best efforts. 

“So why don’t you sit back like a good girl, and we’ll have that civilized conversation you wanted so badly.”

Your cheeks burn with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to name. 

With a sharp exhale, you tear yourself away from his intense gaze, shoving off his lap and planting yourself on the seat beside him. The car’s leather feels cold against your palms as you adjust your clothes, every movement sharp and jerky, as if regaining control over your body could somehow rein in the storm inside you.

“Great,” you bite out, refusing to meet his eyes. “How much?”

Sanzu doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he stretches leisurely, his arms draping over the backrest, like he’s savoring the moment. His smirk widens, sharp and deliberate, and you know—know—he’s about to say something outrageous.

“¥100 billion.”

The words hit you like a slap.

You turn to him so quickly that your neck protests. “What?”

His grin widens. “You heard me,” he says smoothly, as if the absurdity of his statement is nothing out of the ordinary.

For a moment, all you can do is stare, disbelief crashing over you in waves. Your mouth falls open, but no words come out. 

“Is that a joke?” you finally manage, shaking your head. “Because there's no fucking way—”

“Oh, yes. Fucking way,” Sanzu interrupts, his voice dripping with mockery, as if your protest is the funniest thing he’s heard all day. 

He leans back further, his teal eyes gleaming as he continues, like a professor lecturing a particularly slow student. “That katana wasn’t just some random blade, you know. It was art. History forged in steel. Do you even have the slightest idea what you threw away?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer—of course he doesn’t. Sanzu loves the sound of his own voice too much.

“It was forged by master smiths. Wielded by legendary warriors. Passed down through generations. And you—”

His gaze sharpens as he lazily points a finger at you, his smirk turning razor-sharp.

“You tossed it into a fucking dumpster.”

Your teeth grind together as his words sink in, and your fists curl against the leather seat.

“Oh, and that’s not all,” he continues, his tone suddenly turning wistful as he places a hand over his chest, like he’s recounting a personal tragedy. 

“The emotional distress I went through? Priceless. The cost of my time? Immense. The sentimental value?” He exhales theatrically, shaking his head. “Incalculable.”

You know he’s mocking you, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting in frustration.

“That katana wasn’t just a weapon,” he finishes, his voice softening to a taunting murmur. “It was a part of me. A piece of my soul, if you will. So, yeah—¥100 billion. Generous, considering you ripped out a piece of me.”

“You’re insane!” you shout, your voice trembling as panic begins to creep into the edges of your anger.

You can feel the weight of the number crushing you, impossible to comprehend, let alone repay. It’s absurd, and you know he’s doing this on purpose.

Sanzu’s smirk deepens, his gaze steady and unrelenting. “Oh, sweetheart, I am insane.” 

He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “But don’t worry, I’m not that heartless.”

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicion flickering alongside your disbelief.

“I’ve taken the liberty of assessing your belongings,” he continues, gesturing vaguely with one hand like he’s discussing the weather. “To offset the cost of your little stunt, of course. Let’s say those furniture pieces are worth, oh, I’ll be generous again—¥10 million.”

You gape at him, your stomach sinking as he raises a finger, feigning thought.

“So, that leaves you with a cool ¥99,990,000,000 to pay back.”

The number hangs in the air, a death sentence delivered with the kind of smug satisfaction that makes your stomach churn. 

You blink at him, your chest tightening as your mind races, trying and failing to find a way out of this nightmare. The number is still incomprehensible. Impossible.

“Better start saving, sweetheart,” Sanzu says, his grin stretching wider as he watches the horror bloom across your face

“Go to hell!” you snarl, the words tearing from your throat as your voice trembles with suppressed fury.

Sanzu doesn’t even flinch. Instead, his smile widens, a flash of teeth that feels more like a wolf baring its fangs.

He leans back casually, his sharp gaze flicking over you with infuriating nonchalance. It feels like he’s dissecting you, stripping you down to your most vulnerable parts just for fun. 

“Considering your lame little job, I guess you’ll have no choice but to work your ass off for me for the rest of your life.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. 

You swallow hard, fighting against the rising tide of frustration and helplessness that threatens to pull you under. You feel the familiar sting in your eyes, the burning ache of tears you refuse to let fall. Not again. 

Your fists tighten in your lap, nails digging into your palms as you bite down hard on your lip, grounding yourself in the sharp sting of pain. Anything to keep from breaking down in front of him.

But Sanzu notices—of course, he notices. He always does.

“Oh, don’t look so down now,” he says, his voice lilting with faux encouragement. “There are plenty of jobs that can make you quick money. I’m sure we can think of something.”

You turn to him sharply, hope flickering despite yourself. “Quick money?”

He glances at you, his smirk widening like a cat about to pounce on a cornered mouse. “Let’s see. We’ve got human trafficking, prostitution…”

Your glare is immediate, your hope snuffed out as quickly as it came. You clench your teeth, realizing with a sinking heart that he’s doing this on purpose—pouring salt into the wound, twisting the knife, reveling in your frustration.

“Fine,” you bite out, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you refuse to let him win. “I’ll work as a prostitute then—”

The smirk vanishes from his face instantly, replaced by a darker, sharper expression. His eyes narrow into slits, and his jaw tightens as a sudden wave of cold fury washes over his features.

“Don’t be fucking absurd,” he snaps. The words crack like a whip, laced with something you can’t quite name—possessiveness, maybe. “You wouldn’t last a day sucking off dicks.” 

The abrupt shift in his demeanor leaves you momentarily stunned. He was the one who suggested it, yet now he looks furious, his glare sharp enough to pierce steel.

“What the hell am I supposed to do then?” you demand, your voice rising with frustration and desperation. “You know I don’t have that kind of money! I’ll never be able to pay you back!”

The silence between you is heavy, suffocating. Sanzu’s gaze flickers toward you, and for the briefest moment, his expression softens—barely, but enough to make your heart stutter.

“Then stay indebted to me,” he says finally, his voice low and deliberate, each word weighted with meaning.

Your breath catches at the quiet finality of his statement, but he isn’t done.

“Work with me,” he continues, leaning closer, his gaze piercing through you with unnerving precision. “Work for me. For the rest of your life.”

The words settle over you like a shroud, suffocating and inescapable. You search his face desperately, clinging to the hope that this is another one of his twisted jokes. But there’s no laughter in his eyes now, no trace of the smug expression you’ve come to expect. Instead, he is calm—too calm. Serious in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

Realization sinks its claws into you, cold and unrelenting.

This was never about the blade. It was about control. About binding you to him, inch by inch, until there’s nothing left of you to call your own. You feel like a mouse cornered by a cat, every escape route meticulously cut off.

Disbelief turns to anger, burning hot in your chest as the truth becomes clear.

“You must be out of your mind,” you say, your voice trembling with equal parts of fury and defiance, “if you think for a second that you can enslave me with a ridiculous debt.”

His eyes narrow slightly, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his features, but he remains silent, watching you with that unsettling calm.

“You’re pathetic,” you continue, your voice rising, each word carefully chosen to cut. “Is this what you’ve been reduced to? Tricking people into staying by your side because you’re too useless to stand on your own?”

That gets a reaction. His jaw tightens, and his smirk falters, his composure cracking ever so slightly.

But you don’t stop.

“You think you’re all that, don’t you?” you continue, your tone laced with venom. “Always playing these stupid little games, acting like you’re untouchable. But here’s the truth, Sanzu—you’re nothing but a coward. You’re a joke. You hear me? A sad, pathetic joke.”

The words hit their mark.

The air in the car grows heavy, oppressive, as silence stretches taut between you. Sanzu doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, but you can feel the shift in him. His hands tremble faintly where they rest on his lap, curling into fists so tight his knuckles turn white. His breathing is measured, deliberate, like a man trying to hold himself together by sheer willpower.

But his eyes—his teal eyes burn with a fury so intense it makes your stomach churn.

“Stop the fucking car,” he says finally, his voice low and quiet, quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

The tone is lethal, more chilling than any yell or threat could ever be. It carries with it a promise of violence, sharp and certain, and you can feel the driver tense at the words.

The car slows, and your heart races, dread pooling in your stomach as you realize you’ve pushed him too far. But you don’t regret it. Not yet.

As the vehicle comes to a halt, the door on your side unlocks with a soft click. You glance out the window in confusion, your surroundings barren and unfamiliar. The road stretches endlessly into the dark, illuminated only by the pale glow of distant streetlights. Shadows dance across the pavement, eerie and unfamiliar.

“Get out.”

You whip your head toward him, confusion and disbelief flashing across your face. 

“What?” you stammer, your voice trembling as the situation sinks in. “Here? In the middle of nowhere?”

He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t need to. His teal eyes are fixed somewhere in the distance, his body unnaturally still except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. The controlled rhythm of his breathing is the only indication that he’s holding himself back. Barely.

“I said get lost,” he growls, the words low and guttural, like the rumble of a storm building on the horizon. “Before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

The threat isn’t loud, but it’s deafening all the same, hanging heavy in the air between you. A thin, frayed thread of control keeps his rage tethered, but you can see it unraveling, piece by piece.

For the first time, fear creeps into your resolve. You glance out the window again, the cold night air creeping in through the slight crack. The barren road offers no solace, no comfort—just endless darkness and isolation.

But you refuse to let him see your fear. Not like this.

“Fine,” you say, your voice laced with defiance even as it trembles slightly. “I’ll get lost.”

You reach for the purple suit jacket he’d carelessly tossed onto the seat between you earlier, the luxurious fabric soft beneath your fingertips. “If you’re dumping me out here in the middle of nowhere, I’m taking this.” 

You grip the jacket tightly, your knuckles turning white. The sharp, familiar scent of his cologne clings to it, invasive and suffocating as you clutch it to your chest. 

“It’s the least you can do, right? Since you’re so generous.”

His jaw twitches at your words, a faint movement that betrays the storm brewing beneath his stoic exterior.

“You think that’s going to bother me?” he says, his voice flat, but the edge is unmistakable. His eyes finally meet yours, pinning you in place like a predator sizing up prey. “Take it. Keep it. Hell, burn it for all I care. It won’t make a difference.”

His words hit like a slap, dismissive and cutting, but it’s the look in his eyes that burns. You’ve seen him cruel before, smug and taunting, but this is different. This is detachment, a wall slamming down between the two of you as if he’s willing himself not to feel anything at all.

The silence stretches, taut and suffocating, a battlefield with no clear victor. You push the door open, the icy night air rushing in to bite at your skin. You step out, the gravel crunching beneath your heels as you clutch the jacket tighter. 

The door slams shut behind you, the sound echoing in the empty stretch of road. You turn, half-expecting him to say something—anything.

But Sanzu doesn’t even look at you.

His gaze remains fixed ahead, unyielding, and within seconds, the car lurches forward, speeding off into the darkness.

You stand there, frozen in place, the silence deafening as the taillights vanish into the night.

For a moment, all you feel is rage—raw and unfiltered, coursing through you like wildfire. Your grip tightens on the stupid jacket, the fabric crumpling in your fists. Then, with a scream of frustration, you hurl it to the ground.

The jacket lands in the dirt, and without thinking, you stomp on it with your heels, over and over, as if punishing it might somehow lessen the weight in your chest. Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as your fury runs its course.

Then, slowly, reality sets in.

Your chest heaves, the cold air biting against your skin as you glance down at the crumpled jacket beneath your feet. Its once-pristine fabric is now smeared with dirt, but it still carries the faint, lingering scent of Sanzu.

You crouch down, your fingers trembling as you pick it up.

You throw it over your shoulders, the warmth of the material doing little to comfort you. The anger in your chest simmers, but now, something else creeps in—something heavier.

Regret.

You’re furious at Sanzu, but a part of you is furious at yourself too.

You shouldn’t have said those things. You shouldn’t have let your words cut so deep, shouldn’t have hit him where you knew it would hurt the most.

It wasn’t your place to say those things.

But it was your anger—wild and uncontrollable, driving you to lash out in the only way you knew how. You wanted him to feel it too, to understand the sting of your own hurt. And for a fleeting moment, you’d seen it in his eyes: the crack in his armor, the way your words had struck him.

But instead of satisfaction, all you feel now is emptiness.

You wrap the jacket tighter around yourself, its weight heavy on your shoulders as you start walking down the deserted road, the cold night air biting at your skin.

Alone.

With nothing but his stupid jacket and the lingering ache of words you can’t take back.

Haruchiyo Sanzu feels like a distant, sour memory now—something that lingers at the edges of your mind, bitter and unwelcome, like a taste you can’t quite wash away.

Weeks have passed since he left you stranded in the middle of nowhere. You still remember the icy sting of that night, the wind gnawing at your skin as you trudged along desolate roads, his suit jacket wrapped tightly around you. Its scent—sharp, woody, and unmistakably his—had clung to you like a curse, as if mocking your every step. You’d made it to the bus stop just in time for the last ride home, your legs aching, your spirit raw and splintered.

But that was then. 

Your days now have grown quieter. The chaos of Bonten, once an ever-present storm on the horizon, has retreated. No Sanzu. No Mikey. Just silence.

It’s a fragile kind of peace, tenuous and uneasy, like walking on a tightrope suspended over the void. The ache of it all—Sanzu’s threats, Mikey’s betrayal, the hollowing-out of your life—still lingers, but it’s beginning to heal. Slowly, piece by piece. You’ve started finding solace in small things: the warmth of sunlight spilling through your window, the steady rhythm of your breath at night.

Still, there’s no denying the shadow that lingers. The specter of Bonten hangs over your life like a storm cloud, distant but menacing. You’ve learned not to let yourself get too comfortable, knowing full well how easily your peace can be ripped away.

Your apartment reflects that unease. You’ve stopped trying to rebuild the life Sanzu tore apart. The furniture he took has gone unreplaced, leaving the space sparse and functional, like a temporary refuge rather than a home. A futon rests on the floor instead of a bedframe. Your fridge is nearly empty, your meals taken outside to avoid the suffocating stillness of your own walls.

You live like someone waiting to run. As if, at any moment, you might pack up the few belongings you have left and disappear without a trace.

Some days, you consider leaving Japan entirely.

But today, it’s not Sanzu or Mikey who disrupts your fragile peace. It’s her.

Mikey’s wife.

You see her before she sees you.

You’re in the convenience store near your apartment, standing in the narrow aisle of instant ramen. Your hand hovers over a cup of miso-flavored noodles when your gaze shifts—and lands on her.

At first, you think your eyes are deceiving you.

Her long, dark hair frames her face delicately, though there’s her expression is tired, worn at the edges. Her features are familiar, painfully so, but it’s the swell of her belly that catches your breath.

She’s pregnant.

A cold wave crashes over you, bringing with it all the pain and bitterness you’ve been trying so hard to forget. The heartbreak, the betrayal, the way Mikey had slipped through your fingers and into her world—it all rushes back with a vengeance, leaving you reeling.

What is she doing here? Why is she here?

You don’t stick around to find out. Gripping your bag tightly, you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping to slip out unnoticed. You tell yourself she doesn’t know you, that she won’t recognize you. That you can pretend this never happened.

But then she calls your name.

Your heart stops.

Her voice is soft, lilting, and utterly devoid of malice. But it hits you like a punch all the same. Slowly, reluctantly, you turn to see her walking toward you, her smile bright and warm. One hand rests lightly on her swollen belly, while the other lifts in a friendly wave.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you!” she says, her voice sweet and full of enthusiasm.

You blink, caught completely off guard. “W-what?”

She stops a few steps away, her eyes shining with a sincerity that twists the knife even deeper. “You’re Mikey’s friend, aren’t you?”

Friend?

The word rings hollow in your ears, absurd and suffocating. You blink at her, unable to mask your disbelief.

“Um, no,” you manage to say, though your voice sounds far weaker than you intended. “I’m not his friend. Not really…”

“Oh, I know.” Her voice is soft, breezy, as though she’s speaking about something mundane. “You both were in love back then, right? But don’t worry, I don’t take it to heart.”

Were in love?

The phrase hits you like ice water, cold and paralyzing. You feel the air shift around you, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. She looks so bright, so radiant—her presence glowing with an effortless kind of beauty that feels impossible to touch.

And then there’s you.

Rusted, dark, barely held together by fraying threads. 

She’s standing there in a designer dress you recognize instantly, the kind you’d once dreamed of wearing when your life still had a semblance of stability. Everything about her exudes grace, her polished demeanor so far removed from the raw, vulnerable edges you’ve been living with.

And you? You’re standing in sweatpants and a tank top, fresh from the gym, your hair tied up messily, your skin still faintly damp. You feel the faint sting of sweat clinging to you, the sharp contrast between her pristine elegance and your disheveled state making your insecurities roar to life.

If you’d known you’d run into her, you would’ve worn something else—anything else. Something that could at least mask the deep, gnawing inadequacy rising like bile in your chest.

“So,” she continues, her voice light, unbothered, as if she hasn’t just turned your world upside down. “You live near here?”

“Yeah,” you reply hesitantly, shifting on your feet. “Kinda.”

“Ah, I see, I see.” She smiles warmly, like she’s genuinely happy to see you. “I live up the hills with Mikey. We just moved there. You should come if you have time.”

The bile in your throat sharpens. She says it so casually, so invitingly, like she’s unaware to the wound her words inflict. Doesn’t she know? Doesn’t she understand what’s happened between you and Mikey—that you’re not exactly on speaking terms?

Or is she playing dumb?

Your thoughts spiral downward, dark and tangled. Maybe she’s doing this on purpose, flaunting her position, rubbing it in your face. Maybe this is all part of her plan to remind you exactly where you stand—or don’t stand—in Mikey’s life.

You hate that your mind goes there, hate the negativity clawing at your insides. But how could it not? After everything you’ve been through—every betrayal, every heartbreak—how could you expect anything else?

“There’s a lot I’ve been wanting to tell you, you know.” 

Her voice pulls you from the storm in your head, soft and almost hesitant, yet it strikes you like a thunderclap.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you,” she continues, her gaze steady and warm, as if her words hold some unspoken sincerity you can’t begin to understand.

“Thank me?” you echo, the wariness creeping into your voice.

“For letting him go,” she says simply, with no malice or spite, just a matter-of-fact honesty.

The bile rises higher, threatening to choke you, as she adds quickly, “I’m not trying to be rude.”

Her gaze softens, and for the first time, her smile falters. She glances down, one hand resting on her swollen belly, the gesture so natural yet so deliberate it feels like another blow to your already fragile composure.

“When I first found out I was pregnant, I was scared,” she admits quietly, her voice trembling just enough to catch your attention. “What if Mikey didn’t care about this child? What if… he couldn’t let go of you?”

Her words are gentle, but they cut deeper than any insult could.

“I didn’t have a responsible father growing up,” she continues, her gaze distant now, fixed somewhere beyond you. 

“My family sold me to the Sano family when I was a teenager to pay off my father’s debt. Shin—Mikey’s brother—took me in. He promised I’d marry Mikey someday, but we weren’t exactly friends back then.”

“So when I found out I was pregnant, I thought… what if Mikey couldn’t love this child? What if he didn’t care? But then you left him, and I... I couldn't believe it. But it made things easier, you know?” She pauses, looking back at you with a faint, tentative smile. 

“Mikey is going to be a great father to this child. So… thank you.”

You feel like the ground has crumbled beneath you.

Your mind is a whirlpool of emotions, dragging you down deeper and deeper as her words replay in your head. Thank you for letting him go. The phrase loops endlessly, echoing louder each time until it drowns out every other thought.

What are you supposed to feel? Regret? Jealousy? Bitterness? Relief? Gratitude?

Instead, all you feel is guilt.

It sits heavy in your chest, acidic and biting, as you force yourself to meet her gaze again. She’s glowing, radiant, full of life and hope. Her hand rests protectively over her belly, her smile soft and warm, as though she hasn’t just gutted you with her words.

You wonder if she can see it—the way your heart is breaking all over again, piece by piece.

Because as much as you hate to admit it, she’s right.

You feel like a villain in your own story, selfish and blind. If you hadn’t let go, if you’d kept clinging to Mikey, what would you have done to her? To this child? How much pain would you have caused, all for the sake of holding onto something you knew deep down was already gone?

The realization sits heavy in your chest, twisting your insides with guilt and self-loathing.

You force a polite smile, the corners of your mouth trembling as you nod numbly. She’s still talking, but her words fade into the background, drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

When the encounter finally ends, when she walks away with her glowing smile and radiant presence, you remain frozen in place, staring blankly at the rows of snacks and drinks in front of you.

The world around you feels dimmer now, the air heavier, as if everything has shifted just slightly out of focus.

You don’t even notice the tears slipping down your cheeks until you taste the salt on your lips.

Haruchiyo Sanzu always made it clear where you stood.

“You don’t belong here,” he’d sneer, his voice dripping with disdain, “not in Mikey’s world, and definitely not in Bonten.”

He was never wrong. You didn’t belong in their world. You were the outsider, the one thread that never quite wove into the fabric of their lives. You knew it, and he made sure you never forgot it. His words stung more than you’d admit—not because they were untrue, but because of the way he said them. Sharp. Dismissive. Like you weren’t worth the air you breathed in his presence.

But you stayed. Out of stubbornness. Out of loyalty to Mikey. Out of defiance. Maybe you wanted to prove Sanzu wrong, or maybe you just wanted to prove something to yourself.

Still, deep down, you hated that world.

The violence. The chaos. The constant, suffocating tension. You didn’t understand it, and you didn’t want to.

The thing about violence is how loud it is. How it drowns everything else out. It used to make you tremble, used to keep you up at night. Over time, you thought you’d grown numb to it. Spending years with Mikey and his friends, and later meeting the men of Bonten, you believed you’d built up a tolerance.

You were wrong.

Now, standing in the dim light of your apartment, you feel that old dread creeping up your spine, cold and suffocating. The sound of fists pounding on the door reverberates through the space, loud and relentless.

“Open up!” a voice slurs, rough and angry. It’s followed by another—harsher, louder—yelling something you can’t quite make out.

You press your back against the wall, clutching your phone in trembling hands. The door shudders under the force of the blows, the wood groaning as if it might splinter any second. Through the peephole, you catch flashes of them—three, maybe four men. Their faces are rough, unshaven, their clothes stained and worn. Not like Bonten’s polished soldiers. These men are desperate, frayed at the edges, their anger wild and unrestrained.

Your breath comes in short gasps, panic clouding your thoughts. Your first instinct is to call the police, to beg for help. Your thumb hovers over the screen, but you hesitate.

Don’t call the cops.

The rule rings in your head like a mantra, drilled into you after years of being with Mikey. Police attention meant danger, not safety. Danger for him. Danger for Bonten. Calling them now feels like a betrayal of everything you promised to leave behind.

But this isn’t Bonten. This isn’t their problem. This is you, alone in an apartment that feels smaller with every second, trapped with no escape.

Your mind flickers to Mikey. You can almost see him now—stoic, composed, walking through that door with the kind of calm that could silence a storm. Whenever things got bad, you called him, and he always came. No questions. No hesitation.

But that Mikey doesn’t exist for you anymore.

The memory of his wife slices through your thoughts like a blade. Her glowing face, her soft laugh, the way she spoke of him like he was hers—and hers alone. He isn’t yours to call. Not anymore.

The pounding grows louder, the door rattling violently on its hinges. A voice yells, “We know you’re in there! Open the damn door!”

Your legs buckle, and you slide down the wall, your knees drawn up to your chest. You grip your phone tightly, every instinct screaming at you to do something. But you don’t know what.

The fear is suffocating. It wraps around your throat like a noose, tighter with every second. You’ve spent so long trying to convince yourself you’re stronger now, that you could stand on your own two feet, that you’ve learned how to survive without anyone’s help.

But here you are, knees to your chest, tears streaming down your face, and the truth is like a knife twisting in your gut.

You can’t.

The pounding on the door grows louder, the wood splintering under the relentless force of fists. Angry voices bleed into one another, demanding, mocking, hungry. You flinch with every thud, the sound rattling through your bones. A muffled sob escapes you, and you clamp a hand over your mouth, biting back the noise.

This isn’t the first time you’ve felt this kind of fear, but it’s the first time you’ve been truly alone. The knowledge slices through you like ice, leaving you raw and exposed. There’s no Mikey to call, no Bonten soldiers to sweep in and erase the threat with brutal efficiency. There’s only you.

A shudder wracks your body, and your trembling hand brushes against the edge of the clothing rack beside you. The soft rustle of fabric draws your attention, and your eyes fall to the floor.

The purple suit jacket.

It lies crumpled and forgotten, a remnant of a night you’ve tried desperately to push from your memory. It doesn’t belong here, much like the man who owned it.

Your gaze lingers, and then you see it—a small white card slipping from the pocket. It flutters to the floor, landing face up, the bold logo of Bonten catching the dim light.

You don’t think. You don’t breathe. You just move, reaching for it with trembling fingers.

The card feels heavier than it should as you turn it over, your eyes scanning the crisp lettering.

Haruchiyo Sanzu.

Beneath his name is a series of numbers, printed in sharp black ink. A phone number.

Your heart stutters.

The voices outside grow louder, their words blending into a cacophony of threats and anger. The door creaks ominously under the next blow, and your grip tightens on the card.

This is insane. Calling him is insane. You haven’t spoken to him since that night. Since the night he left you stranded, drenched in rage and despair, clutching this very jacket like it was some kind of armor.

But the desperation burns hotter than the fear now, a frantic, clawing need for survival.

Your fingers fumble as you pick up your phone, the screen shaking in your grasp. The numbers blur as tears spill over your lashes, and it takes three tries before you can type them in correctly.

The first ring feels endless, each second dragging you deeper into doubt.

The second ring is faster, sharper, and the sound cuts through the fog of your panic.

For a moment, you think he won’t answer. You think this was a mistake, that you’re as alone as you feared—

But then his voice crackles through the line.

“Who is this?”

It’s sharper than you remember, edged with a steel-cold annoyance that sends a shiver down your spine. Your lips tremble, and you purse them tightly to hold back the sob threatening to escape. You don’t understand why hearing his voice makes you feel like crying even harder, but it does.

“Speak up,” Sanzu snaps, his tone edged with irritation.

“S-Sanzu,” you finally manage, barely able to get the words out. “It’s me.”

The silence that follows feels like an eternity, heavy and tense, like he’s holding back a storm on the other end of the line. You brace yourself for his anger, his mockery, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the pause stretches, his silence daring you to say more.

Before either of you can speak again, a loud bang on your door startles you, and you jump violently. Your sobs break free, audible now as you stare helplessly at the door. It rattles in its frame as another fist slams against it, followed by more shouting from the men outside.

Sanzu’s voice turns sharp on the other end of the line. “The hell’s going on there?”

You try to speak, to explain, but the words choke in your throat, tangled with fear. All you can do is breathe, ragged and uneven, as the chaos outside intensifies.

“Oi!” he barks, louder this time, his tone laced with urgency. “Answer me! Where are—”

Another deafening bang.

This one is so forceful it feels like the door might splinter. The phone slips from your grasp, tumbling to the floor with a hollow clatter. You scramble to pick it up, but the noise outside grows louder, drowning out his voice on the other end.

The pounding at the door is relentless now, each blow reverberating through the room like the ticking of a doomsday clock. Panic grips you in its iron claws, your movements clumsy and frantic as your survival instincts take over.

You abandon the phone.

Your body moves on its own, propelling you away from the front door and down the narrow hallway. Your breath comes in short, desperate gasps, your vision blurring with tears as you throw yourself into your bedroom.

The door slams behind you, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the suffocating silence of the room. Your hands shake as you fumble to turn the lock, your fingers slipping over the cold metal. When it finally clicks into place, you collapse against the door, your back pressed to the wood as if your weight alone could keep the intruders out.

It feels like the walls are closing in, the air too thin, too heavy. You clutch at your chest, trying to steady your breathing, but the panic has its claws in you now, dragging you deeper into its suffocating grip. You don’t know how long you stay rooted like that. Minutes passed. Maybe even hours, you’re not so sure anymore. 

Then—suddenly—silence.

The world feels like it’s holding its breath, the oppressive silence louder than the chaos that preceded it. The pounding has stopped, the shouting gone, leaving behind a void so deafening it presses against your ears.

It’s almost worse than the noise.

Time stretches and warps, each second dragging by as your mind claws for clarity. Summoning strength you don’t think you have, you push yourself up on trembling legs. Every step feels heavy, your movements jerky and uncoordinated as if your body doesn’t quite belong to you anymore.

You unlock the door with a faint click.

The hallway beyond is eerily still, the dim light from your living room casting long, distorted shadows. You step out, and your breath catches in your throat. 

The door to your apartment is wide open.

Your eyes widen as you take in the scene. Blood mars the pristine white of the door, streaked across the floor in grotesque smears.

Then you see him.

Sanzu stands there, framed by the dim glow of the streetlight outside, his silhouette sharp and unnerving. You notice the blood on his clothes, streaked across his shirt and jacket in violent, haphazard smears. It stains his hands, dripping from his fingertips onto the floor.

Your gaze shifts downward.

A body lies crumpled at his feet, its face obscured by shadow. The man’s arms are bent at unnatural angles, his chest motionless. The pool of blood spreading beneath him glints faintly in the light, viscous and dark.

Sanzu’s face is calm, almost eerily so, as he stares down at the lifeless figure. His expression is unreadable, his teal eyes cold and devoid of emotion. With a slow, deliberate movement, he wipes the blood from his cheek using the back of his hand, smearing it across his pale skin like war paint.

The gun in his other hand hangs loosely by his side, its barrel still gleaming faintly in the dim light. You can’t tell if it’s from blood or something else. Somehow, you just don’t care.

You should feel fear—any normal person would. The violent scene before you, the lifeless body, the blood painting your once-pristine apartment—it should terrify you.

But all you feel is relief.

It crashes over you in a tidal wave, drowning out every other thought or emotion. Relief that it’s him standing there. That he’s here. That the nightmare outside your door is over.

He came. For you.

The realization is enough to blur the edges of the world around you, your vision swimming with unshed tears. Your breathing hitches as you take a hesitant, shaky step forward. Then another.

The space between you feels unbearable, suffocating, as if every step is a battle against an invisible force pulling you back.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re running.

“Hey—”

Sanzu’s voice breaks the silence, startled, but it barely registers.

You throw yourself at him with all the force you can muster, not caring about the blood, the chaos, or the consequences. His arms come up instinctively to catch you, but the sudden impact knocks him off balance. The two of you stumble, falling to the floor in a tangled heap.

The world around you fades to nothing.

Your arms wrap tightly around his neck, clinging to him as if letting go would mean being swallowed whole by the darkness again. You bury your face into the curve of his shoulder, breathing him in despite the metallic tang of blood that clings to him. Beneath it, faint but familiar, is his scent—spicy, woodsy, unmistakably him.

It grounds you. Anchors you.

The fear, the helplessness, the bone-deep panic that had consumed you moments ago—all of it begins to dissipate, replaced by a sense of warmth and security. You sob against his neck, your tears soaking into his skin, clinging to him as though he’s the only thing holding you together. 

The way his body stiffens beneath you is unmistakable, his muscles rigid and tense, as though your touch burns. His arms hang awkwardly at his sides, frozen, like he’s never held someone like this before—or never wanted to.

But you don’t care.

Your world is too fragile, too broken, for that to matter now. You’re too overwhelmed by the fact that he came, that he’s here, standing in your wrecked apartment, blood on his hands and violence in his wake, because of you.

Despite the tension that always seemed to push you further apart. Despite the fights, the sharp words you’ve thrown at each other like knives. Despite the threats and the violence that define him, the very things that have always made you hate him.

He came.

When you thought no one else would.

You’d told yourself you could survive on your own, that you didn’t need anyone. You’d convinced yourself that being alone was easier, that it hurt less. But the truth is, the loneliness had been unbearable, suffocating. You’d felt like you were drowning in it, your chest caving in under the weight of your isolation.

And now, his presence makes it easier to breathe. The sting of everything—of the fear, the heartbreak, the loss—eases, just slightly. Just enough for you to feel something other than despair.

Sanzu doesn’t hug you back, doesn’t move to comfort you in any way. He doesn’t need to.

Because for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel comforted. Safe.

And for now, that alone is enough.

Haruchiyo Sanzu had promised you those men were still alive.

But as you replay the scene in your mind—their broken bodies crumpled on the floor after they dared to put up a fight with him—you can’t help but question how true that promise really was. The way they had groaned, barely conscious, with limbs bent at unnatural angles… it seemed more like Sanzu had spared them out of boredom rather than mercy.

“Those punks are from a rival gang, always stirring shit with Bonten,” Sanzu had said, his voice tinged with indifference, as if this was nothing more than routine. “They’re probably after you ‘cause of your history with Mikey.”

The words still sting, cutting deeper than you’d care to admit. Your connection to Mikey has always been both shield and curse, dragging you into a world you never wanted to belong to. But Sanzu didn’t dwell on it.

You’d braced yourself for the mockery, the sharp smirk, the inevitable I told you so. He’d always taken a perverse pleasure in throwing your choices back in your face, a constant reminder of your naivety.

But this time, the mockery never came.

Instead, he brought you here—to his condominium. No biting remarks, no sneering comments, just quiet efficiency as he led you through the sleek, sterile space with its minimalist decor and faint scent of antiseptic, like he’d tried to scrub something clean but couldn’t quite erase the stains of who he was.

Now, lying on his impossibly soft bed, you stare up at the ceiling. The faint sound of the shower hums in the background, steady and soothing, a sharp contrast to the chaos you’ve just escaped.

You shouldn’t feel safe here. You know this, deep down. Sanzu is the embodiment of destruction—chaos wrapped in sharp lines and sharper smiles. He’s everything you’ve spent years trying to avoid, a warning etched into flesh and bone. But here you are, wrapped in the cocoon of his world, and for once, you aren’t afraid.

You’ve been here before.

The memory sneaks up on you, vivid and intrusive. The night you came here to treat his wounds flashes through your mind. Mikey had been furious with Sanzu for hurting you while he was high, and the fallout had been brutal. You’d bandaged him, your hands trembling with a mix of sadness and pity as he winced under your touch. That same night, you’d drifted into a haze of his pills, craving escape, and woke up tangled in these sheets. 

Back then, you hadn’t noticed the subtle scent that clung to the fabric, hadn’t let yourself linger on the details of him.

But now, as you curl into the comforter, pulling it closer to your face, it’s unmistakable. It’s a scent you’ve grown used to over the years—on his clothes, lingering in the air whenever he was near. You’ve never stopped to think about it before, but now, it feels oddly significant.

You bury your face in the soft material, inhaling deeply as a strange feeling stirs in you. You don’t know when it started, this unusual awareness of Sanzu, or why it feels so heavy now.

You squeeze your eyes shut, frustrated with yourself. Why are you even thinking about this? About him?

But no matter how hard you try to push it down, you can’t ignore the quiet realization blooming inside you: Haruchiyo Sanzu is starting to feel… different.

Your gaze wanders aimlessly around the room, searching for a distraction. It lands on a bottle of white pills sitting on the nightstand. They’re different from the ones you’ve seen him take before, or the ones he’d offered you. 

You wonder what they’re for. Did he take one recently? Are they for sleeping? For calming his mind? Or are they something darker, something that’s keeping him tethered to the edge he so often seems to teeter on?

The curiosity gnaws at you until you can’t resist. You reach out, your fingers hovering just above the bottle—

“Don’t go poking around in other people’s stuff.”

His sudden voice startles you, and you insctinctively pull your hand away from the bottle. Your head snaps around, and there he is, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. 

Steam billows faintly behind him, curling around his silhouette like a ghostly aura. He’s clad in a loosely tied bathrobe, the fabric hanging open enough to reveal his pale chest and the faint scars that mar the otherwise smooth skin. His damp pink hair clings to his forehead, water droplets trailing down his temple, tracing the sharp line of his jaw before disappearing into the hollow of his collarbone.

The sight of him, raw and unguarded like this, hits you harder than it should. He looks so effortlessly attractive, his usual sharp-edged chaos softened by the intimacy of the moment. You feel the heat rushing to your face, your stomach twisting in a way that has nothing to do with fear.

You force yourself to look away, to focus on anything else—the steam in the air, the quiet hum of the ceiling fan. But it’s no use. His presence fills the room, leaving no space for anything else.

“What’re they for?” you ask, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

Sanzu’s lips quirk up into a knowing smirk. “You really wanna know?”

The way he says it, low and teasing, sends a shiver up your spine. He strides toward you, his steps slow, calculated, like a predator closing in on its prey. Your instincts scream at you to run, to flee, but you remain frozen, your breath caught somewhere between anticipation and dread.

You nod, your throat dry, unable to look away as he closes the distance between you. You watch as he reaches for the bottle on the nightstand, his long fingers curl around it with practiced ease. He shakes it lightly, the sound of pills rattling against plastic breaking the tense silence. 

Sanzu slides one pill into his palm, holding it delicately between his fingers. His gaze then flickers to yours, and there’s a challenge, a dare, a twisted sense of amusement in his eyes.

“Why not try it for yourself?” he says as the smirk on his lips widens, daring you to take the bait.

Your gaze fixes on the pill, a small and harmless-looking thing, yet charged with so much temptation.

You don’t stop to think.

As if in a daze, your hand reaches out toward it.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re doing this. Maybe it’s the strange comfort you’ve started to feel in Sanzu’s presence, the way he makes you forget how to think rationally. Or maybe it’s the recklessness he brings out in you, the way he makes you want to let go of the rigid control you’ve always tried to hold onto.

But just as your fingers are about to touch the pill, Sanzu pulls his hand back, holding it out of reach. 

“Look at you, so eager,” he drawls. “Someone offers you a little something, and you're all over it.”

You glance up at him, startled by his words.

“Can't resist a little escape, can you?” he continues, his teal eyes gleaming with malicious glee. “Want to float away, forget about all your problems. But when shit goes down, you'll be the first to blame me, won’t you?”

The accusation hangs in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating.

His tone, laced with scorn, dredges up memories you’ve tried to bury—of the riverbank, when you snapped at him, accusing him of ruining you. You’d been furious at him then, seething at the way he had introduced you to the blissful oblivion of drugs, at the way he seemed to revel in watching you fall apart.

But now, that same temptation claws at you, an unbearable ache. The pill in his fingers feels like a lifeline, a reprieve from the pain and fear that have consumed you for weeks. You want it. You hate that you want it.

And Sanzu knows.

When you don’t answer, he steps closer. His hand rises, his fingers cool and deliberate as they tilt your chin upward, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Say that you want it."

His eyes bore into yours, a teasing light dancing in their depths as though he’s savoring every second of your internal struggle. “Admit it. I won’t even blame you—after all, I’m the one who showed you how good it feels, aren’t I?”

The words are a taunt, a challenge, and yet there’s a flicker of something else beneath his teasing tone. An edge of bitterness? Of longing?

You can’t tell, and it only makes the weight of his gaze all the more unbearable.

After weeks of living like a hollow shell, aimless and haunted, the thought of surrendering to the haze again feels like relief. Sweet, blissful relief. And the man standing before you—dangerous, unpredictable, impossible Sanzu—is the only one offering it to you.

He saved you.

You can’t shake that truth. The same hand that gripped a gun mere hours ago, ensuring your safety with a ferocity that left no room for doubt, is the same hand holding your chin now. The same man who once inflicted pain is offering you solace, even if it’s in his own twisted, chaotic way.

Your mind screams that this is wrong, that Sanzu is wrong, but your body betrays you. You don’t want to fight anymore. You’re so tired of fighting.

The thought of letting go, of releasing the crushing weight you’ve been carrying, feels like salvation.

“Sanzu,” you whisper finally, his name tumbling from your lips in a voice that’s barely audible, deliberately weak. 

The sound of it pulls a reaction from him—a flicker in his expression. His smirk falters, if only for a fraction of a second. It’s fleeting, almost imperceptible, but you catch it.

“I want it. Please.”

His smirk sharpens at your admission. Slowly, Sanzu raises the pill, holding it between his fingers like an offering—but instead of giving it to you, his teal eyes glint with a wicked promise that this moment won’t be as simple as you think. Without breaking eye contact, he raises the pill to his lips, sliding it between them in one fluid motion.

Your breath catches.

The small, simple gesture feels electrifying, almost obscene. You can’t look away—not from the pill nestled between his lips, not from the curve of his mouth as it closes around it. His lips, soft and pink against his otherwise sharp, dangerous edges, hold your gaze captive.

Before you know what you’re doing, you lean forward, closing the small distance between you until your lips meet his.

Sanzu stiffens, his body going rigid as your lips brush his.

Your tongue grazes his lips, catching the pill and pulling it away. It should end there. That’s all you meant to do. But your lips linger, longer than they should.

His lips are soft, impossibly soft, a jarring contrast to everything else about him—the sharp edges of his jaw, the cold steel in his eyes, the danger that clings to him like a second skin.

A part of you doesn’t want to pull away. That part wants to stay here, to push further, to find out if there’s anything else about him that could be soft, gentle, human.

But the logical part of your mind, faint as it is, reminds you of who this is. It reminds you to move, to inch back.

Or at least, you try to.

Before you can move far, Sanzu’s hands shoot up, gripping your shoulders with a force that borders on bruising. His touch isn��t gentle—it’s desperate, as though he’s clinging to you as much as he’s holding you in place.

Your eyes widen, surprise flashing through you. You open your mouth to speak, to ask him what he’s doing, but the words die in your throat when his lips crash into yours.

The kiss isn’t soft. His lips move against yours with a hunger that leaves you frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of it. His hand slides to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, leaving no room for hesitation.

The pill lies forgotten on your tongue, its bitterness seeping into your mouth. The taste should ruin the moment, but it doesn’t.

Instead, it sharpens everything.

His lips, his touch, the way his tongue slips into your mouth, claiming every inch of you—it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

You remember feeling his lips on yours before, when he forced the first pill down your throat. Back then, the kiss had meant nothing to you, just another cruel moment in a long string of chaos that defined your relationship with him.

But now?

Now it feels different.

Your hands, hesitant at first, clutch at the fabric of his bathrobe, shyly curling around it as his hands move through your hair. His fingers rake gently against your scalp, sending shivers down your spine.

How can someone like Sanzu, so violent and chaotic, feel this soft, this gentle?

And the kiss—it doesn’t just feel good.

It feels perfect. He feels perfect.

His hand slides to your back, firm and insistent, pulling your body closer until there’s no space left between you. You’re flush against him now, every inch of you pressed to his, but it still doesn’t seem to be enough for him.

He keeps pulling you closer, as though he needs more—as though he needs all of you, to consume you completely, to make you a part of him.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel held.

Until suddenly, he pulls away.

The cold rushes in, sharp and unforgiving, knocking the breath from your lungs. You feel the loss acutely, the absence of his lips on yours, his warmth, his touch. It leaves you empty, aching, a hollow space where he’d just been.

Then you notice it—the pill is gone from your tongue.

Confusion flickers across your face as you look up at him, and your gaze catches on the pill now nestled between his teeth. Before you can process what’s happening, he tilts his head and spits the pill out. It hits the floor with a faint tap, rolling once before disappearing under the edge of the bed.

You blink, stunned, your thoughts scrambling to make sense of what you’ve just seen. Did he really just do that? Did he really just spit out the drug—his drug?

Sanzu’s drugs have always been his obsession, his crutch. You know how much they mean to him, how possessive he’s always been about them. And yet here he is, spitting it out like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t matter at all.

“What—” you start, your voice faltering as you struggle to piece together your thoughts. “Why did you—”

Your words are cut off as he suddenly shoves you backward. You lose your balance, falling unceremoniously onto the mattress. The world shifts around you, and when you blink, he’s already straddling your hips.

Your breath hitches as his weight presses you into the bed. The dim light plays tricks on his face, casting shadows that make him look darker, more menacing, and yet impossibly alluring. His teal eyes pierce through the gloom, burning with an intensity that sends your pulse racing, and you’re certain he can hear the way your heart pounds against your chest.

“Why’d you do that?” you demand despite the tremor in your voice. “I said I want it.”

Sanzu’s eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, as if he’s taking in the rise and fall of your chest, the way your body fits beneath his. 

“We’ll do that later,” he murmurs. “All the drugs you want. But not now… I need you sober now.”

The rasp in his voice, the quiet command behind his words, leaves you momentarily speechless.

You blink up at him, confusion creasing your brow. Sober? Now? From the man who thrives on chaos and indulgence, the demand feels out of place. But before the words to question him can form, he’s on you again, his lips crashing into yours with a force that makes your thoughts scatter.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you with the same hunger that leaves you trembling all over again. 

This time, your hands move instinctively, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. Your lips grow swollen under the intensity of the kiss, but the need between you only builds.

His hands roam down your sides, exploring every curve of your body. When they finally brush against the bare skin of your stomach, a shiver runs through you. The warmth of his touch is stark against the cool air, making your body arch involuntarily.

You know what he’s doing.

He’s testing you. Teasing you. Giving you every chance to stop this, to pull away, to say no. But you don’t.

You can’t.

Instead, your back arches further into his touch, your body betraying you, seeking him out. His smirk curves against your lips, and you can feel the triumph in it, the silent acknowledgment that you’ve given him exactly what he wanted.

And then, like a blade cutting through the haze, the realization strikes.

This is why he wants you sober.

He wants you to feel everything—to be aware of every touch, every sensation. If you were high, you’d miss it—you’d drift into oblivion, the sensations dulled, the memory blurred. But not like this.

Sanzu wants you here. Present.

This isn’t just about him taking from you; it’s about you choosing to give.

The realization swells in your chest, unexpected and overwhelming.

Your fingers tighten around him instinctively, pulling him closer, as though the connection between you isn’t close enough. Your hands slide up into his damp hair, threading through the soft pink strands. The texture surprises you—softer than you expected, almost delicate against your fingertips.

His breath catches in his throat at the contact, and you feel it. The subtle tremor in his body, the slight hitch in his movements.

It sends a jolt of heat rushing through you.

You push further, emboldened by his reaction. Your other hand slips beneath the loose folds of his robe, brushing against the heated skin of his back. His muscles tense under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away.

Instead, he groans softly, the sound low and rough, vibrating against your lips.

It’s intoxicating.

The sound he makes, the way his breath stutters under your touch—it sends a sharp spike of desire straight through you, pooling low in your belly.

He likes it.

And God help you, it’s turning you on.

You feel the haze of desire wrapping around you, thick and heavy, pulling you deeper into him. Every touch, every kiss, every sound between you feels amplified, like the rest of the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you.

You want more.

Your hand trails lower along his back, exploring the warmth of his skin, the tension in his body, the way he seems to hold himself back just slightly, like he’s afraid to lose control.

But then, a sharp, piercing sound cuts through the moment. The shrill ring of a phone. 

Reality crashes back into you like a tidal wave.

You freeze, your lips still against his, your hands still tangled in his hair and pressed against his back. For a moment, neither of you move, caught in the lingering heat of the kiss, as though the sound doesn’t belong to this moment, to this room.

You pull back just slightly, gasping for air, your chest heaving as your eyes meet his. The sight of him leaves you momentarily speechless. His teal eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, his pupils blown wide with desire. His cheeks are flushed, his lips red and swollen, glistening from your kiss.

He looks… undone.

You wonder in that instant if you’ve ever seen him like this before—if anyone has ever seen him like this before.

You bite your lip, hesitating, your heart hammering in your chest as a question rises to the surface of your mind. You don't know why you need to ask. Maybe it's the intensity of the moment, the vulnerability you see in his eyes. Or maybe it's your own vulnerability, the way you're letting yourself fall deeper into him than you ever thought you could.

"Sanzu," you whisper. "Do you have feelings for me?"

The question hangs in the air, fragile and trembling, threatening to break under the weight of what it means.

But Sanzu doesn’t move. 

He doesn’t even flinch.

“Feelings, huh…” he murmurs at last, his voice quiet, as though he’s tasting the word for the first time. 

His gaze dips lower, lingering on your lips. You watch as his tongue darts out, wetting his own lips, the movement slow, calculated, and maddeningly hypnotic.

“Even if I tell you my answer, would it change anything?”

Your eyes widen in confusion, your mind scrambling to make sense of what he means. You part your lips to respond, to ask, to demand clarity—but before the words can leave you, the sharp trill of the phone cuts through the air again.

The sound is jarring, slicing clean through the tension between you, leaving it to collapse into nothing.

Sanzu’s expression hardens, the vulnerability you thought you saw fading in an instant. He pulls away from you with a harsh sigh, his body shifting as if to distance himself. The absence of his warmth hits you immediately, a sharp ache settling in your chest. The space between you grows colder, as though he’s taken all the heat with him, leaving you with nothing.

Without meeting your gaze, he reaches for the phone on the nightstand, his fingers brushing against it almost angrily. You watch him, eyes scanning his face, desperate for any sign—anything—that might explain the shift, the sudden barrier now standing between you.

When his gaze flickers to the screen, you catch it—the briefest reaction. His eyes widen, just for a fraction of a second, but it’s enough.

Whatever he sees there, it rattles him.

He clears his throat, his voice sharper now as he answers the call.

"Yes?" His tone is clipped, professional, a far cry from the low, intimate murmur he'd just been using.

You sit up slowly, watching him closely.

The shift in his demeanor is jarring. Whatever softness you’d glimpsed in him just moments ago—the tenderness in his touch, the vulnerability in his kiss—vanishes as if it had never been there. In its place is the Sanzu you’re more familiar with, the one who wears his toughness like armor, his emotions locked tightly behind a smirk or a sharp edge.

Your mind drifts back to his words. Would it change anything?

What had he meant by that?

It was a simple question, wasn’t it? One he could have answered easily, yes or no. But the weight of his response—or lack thereof—lingers heavily in the air, making you doubt its simplicity.

Unless…

Unless it’s not as simple as you want it to be.

Sanzu’s teal eyes snap to yours suddenly, cutting through your spiraling thoughts, and you jump, startled by the intensity of them. Without a word, he holds the phone out to you, his movements deliberate, his expression unreadable.

“It’s Mikey. He wants a word with you.”

Your heart sinks.

Of course.

How could you forget who Sanzu is in your life?

He’s not just Sanzu, the man who saved you, the man whose touch made your heart race. He’s Haruchiyo Sanzu—Mikey’s loyal second-in-command, his soldier, his shadow.

And you?

You’re the ex-girlfriend, the woman who once held Mikey’s heart but shattered her own in the process.

You reach for the phone hesitantly, your movements slow and cautious, as if taking it will solidify something you don’t want to confront. Your fingers brush against Sanzu's as you grasp it—a fleeting touch that feels like an entire conversation.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You can feel the heat of his skin against yours, a whisper of the intimacy you just shared. But when you meet his gaze again, it’s like looking into a storm that’s already moved on, leaving only destruction in its wake.

You press the phone to your ear, swallowing the lump rising in your throat.

“…Hello?” you manage, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Your name comes through the line in that voice you once knew so well, and the sound of it knocks the air from your lungs.

Mikey.

It’s been so long since you last heard him say your name, and yet it feels like no time has passed at all. The sound of it sends a shiver down your spine, a reminder of all the things you’ve tried—and failed—to bury.

You don’t answer him right away. Your eyes remain locked on Sanzu as he climbs out of the bed.

His movements are slow, unhurried, but there’s tension in every step he takes. The way his shoulders set, the subtle clench of his jaw—it’s as if he’s forcing himself to move, to leave.

You feel the loss of his presence like a wound reopening. The further away he gets, the tighter your chest feels, until it’s almost unbearable.

You want to call out to him. 

To tell him to stop. To stay.

But how can you?

Mikey’s voice is still in your ear, grounding you to a past you thought you’d left behind, pulling you back into a world that no longer feels like yours.

Sanzu reaches the door, his hand hovering over the handle for a fraction of a second. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you see it—a hesitation. For the briefest second, you think he might turn around.

He doesn’t.

The door clicks softly as it closes behind him, and the sound feels deafening in the silence that follows.

You’re alone now.

Alone with Mikey on the other end of the line, his voice saying your name again, softer this time, as though coaxing you back into a conversation you’re not ready to have.

And yet, your heart continues to ache—not for the man on the phone, but for the one who just left.

< part three ends >

author's notes. heyy lovely sanzu kinnies <3 hope you're all doing well! first off, i want to apologize if this part feels a little rushed. i really wanted to get something out before my break ends, but i might end up rewriting the whole thing later lol :> thank you guys so so much for sticking around and showing love to BNT <3 ur support means the world to me!!! as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts, so please feel free to leave a comment or note! thanks again for reading, and stay awesome (〃´▽`〃) !!

p/s: what do you guys think is gonna happen next with sanzu and y/n? 👀

taglist. @bontensproperty @sleeplessreader12 @thisismarisaaa @fallensuguru @karuki-tori @unfortunately-a-dazai-kinnie @celestica-1988 @taebaozi @tribbisweetdear @aizawap @aquamarixx @sadlyradley @gh0stgirl333 @iluv-ace @reiners-milkbiddies @bontenbabyy @risheliette @loveantonnlee @sukunas-bitxh @honeygonebads-blog @r3yk @soilaluna @l1ttl3m1ss666 @novv @slvdsjjk @miffysoo @qyoongi @drakensdarling @ask-the-insect-hashira @awkwardaardvarkforever @thebiggestlovergirlever @shinichirolover @kyyuuuuu @ajumma @missmanjisano @meowww1041 @kiasnotforever @slayyy739 @rainzelenia @strawberrychrome (do lmk in the comments if you want to be tagged here too!)

© CANDYEAGER. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any other platforms.

[monochromaticbeans]

This is why he's my favorite. 💙 Thank you for this!

Some Keisuke Baji Facts (Not headcanons)...

I got into the Tokyo Revengers fandom right after watching the 1st season of the anime and from there I started reading the manga until I got caught up with it. Now, I'm up-to-date with everything related to Tokrev, even the spin-off manga as well...

Now, I have an issue with how people interpret Baji's character and how they portray him in fanfics or headcanon posts. I know you can have your own headcanons, but there's also a thing called facts or being canonically accurate. Most people interpret Baji as:

Keisuke Baji is an idiot, a literal moron.

Keisuke Baji is reckless, restless, always causing havoc, always seeking fun and adventure; in short, an energetic thrill seeker/troublemaker.

Well, that's far from what people think about Baji...

Baji's NOT an idiot

You can't call Baji an idiot just because he isn't academically smart or doesn't get passing grades in school. Sure, he's stupid when it comes to his studies, but other than that, he's really smart and highly intellectual in every other aspect. Moreover, Chifuyu's the one who's a moron here. In many fanfics and headcanon posts, I saw people writing about how dumb Baji is and how smart Chifuyu is and then talking about how Chifuyu guides/helps Baji to understand things or solve problems. And I'm like huh?!?! Have you not read the spin-off manga yet??? (Btw, the spin-off manga is CANON since it's been made under Ken Wakui sensei's supervision and he's heavily involved with the project...)

The whole manga is about what a big dumbass Chifuyu is and how smart, intellectual, and level-headed Baji is. Heck, Chifuyu's so stupid that this is what Baji has to say about him -

So, yeah...

CHIFUYU is the moron here, NOT Baji.

Also...

Baji's NOT an adrenaline junkie

I'm not gonna share pictures for that as proof. Instead, I'll just add the links to the sites where you can read the spin-off manga. I'll say it again - Baji's NOT some reckless, restless dude who loves causing havoc/chaos any time and every time he feels like it (unlike Hanma, Smiley, or anyone batshit crazy we know from this series). Throughout the story, Baji is shown to be quite mature and sensible as a person and also as a leader. He's more responsible, wiser, and more rational than everyone around him. Sure he gets very energetic and excited when fighting other delinquents, but other than that, he's just a simple guy going on with his everyday life. I understand why people think of him like that since this is literally what wiki tells us -

But he's more than just that...

Instead in the spin-off, Baji is portrayed as a calm, collected, and composed individual in each and every scene he appears, while Chifuyu and Ryusei are the ones shown to be more chaotic in nature who love getting into trouble at every opportunity they get. Also, Baji doesn't speak too much and always observes things around him quietly from the sideline, meaning unlike others, he's pretty observant. He's never once shown to be causing problems for others, but rather, he's the one solving the issues that others cause around him, meaning he's a dependable and attentive person (just like Draken). Not only is he calm and composed, but he also immediately figures out any situation in front of him and then confidently gives orders to the others; just reading the spin-off manga will make you realize how effective Baji is as a leader/1st division captain. And, in that episode (season 1, episode 14) where Mikey tells Takemichi that Baji punches people for no apparent reason, yeah, there's actually a reason why Baji does that and such a thing happened only ONCE in his lifetime (Go read chapter 9 of the spin-off manga and you'll also understand why Baji did that). Also, this is Mikey we're talking about; do you really think he'll give us the correct info? He just dropped that info without any context, and no wonder why Takemichi went like "WTF?" after hearing that about Baji... Anyway, Baji's more like Draken in a way, so to speak, and that's why he and Draken get along really well.

No wonder Baji's spending his birthday afternoon with Draken instead of spending it with Mikey or Chifuyu...

So, in short, Baji is:

Not some rowdy, adrenaline junkie like Hanma or Smiley.

An attentive, compassionate, and dependable leader.

Confident while giving out his orders.

A calm, composed, and observant individual.

Very smart and highly intellectual.

Cautious and doesn't cause trouble to others.

Actually one of the most mature ones in the group besides Draken and Mitsuya.

Baji loves fun and adventure from time to time, sure, but he's NOT an idiotic troublemaker.

Links to the spin-off manga -

[zerokurokawa]

This is my favorite manga panel:

Ran’s all like…

“oh really?” WHAMM

[beeing1alive]

Hi!! I really liked your "turning them on without knowing" post , I wanted to know if you'd like to write a second one but with Tenjiku!! 🙇🏻‍♀️

Note: Thank you for your enquiry, I was very happy about it and hope you like it

Warning: Nsfw content, minors do not interact

Izana:

Gets a hard-on when you give him a tight hug

He just can't help it, as soon as he feels your warmth and smells your body odour he goes crazy

He doesn't want to let you go and wraps his arms around you even more so that you can feel his pulsating cock

Begins to place feather-light kisses on your neck and throat and asks you if you don't want to help him

Kakucho:

It especially turns him on when you try to tease him with something

I mean, the grin on your face and the galnz in your eyes

He immediately gets butterflies in his stomach and his body starts to tingle with excitement, only that the tingling mainly affects the centre of his body

And before he knows it, he's sitting there with an ever-growing bulge in his trousers

Ran:

Becomes instantly rock hard when you whisper in his ear

It doesn't even matter what you say because, to be honest, in this situation he doesn't care

It's just that as soon as he hears your sweet voice so close to his ear, goose bumps spread all over his body

Try 100% not to hide how you hit on him and will ask you if you can help him with the bulge is trousers

Rindou:

Absolutely loves neck kisses

Just can't help but let out a soft sigh as soon as you're busy with his neck

Pulls you onto his lap so he can kiss you and press his hard cock against your bum

Nevertheless, his cheeks are barely noticeably red all the time, because he's just an idiot for you and can't do anything about it

Shion:

Immediately gets a hard-on when he sees you concentrating

The way your eyes dart across the sheet of paper in front of you and you try to memorise as much as possible with a furrowed brow

Feels the need to sit behind you and look over your shoulder so that you can feel his hard cock

Will indirectly try to distract you from your work and gently rub against your bum, which only makes him hornier...

Here is pt.1

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

[bontensruby]

No one:

Literally no one:

Bonten! Sanzu: DARLINGGGGG, GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM JAAAAILLLLL!?!?!?!?

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Them trying to give you space...

[kokonoiis]

─── I SAID LOOK AT ME, GIRL INITIATION bonten x fem! reader ( 18+ MDNI ) 21.3k words you condemned three men to death tonight, or something worse than death, and there was nothing you could do about it but keep moving forward, digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole until you could no longer see the sun. but you kept reaching up anyway, ever hopeful that you’d feel the warmth on your skin one day.

that day wasn't going to be today. how lucky for you, you've been promoted.

YOU CAN FOLLOW SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS, RIGHT ? ─── active characters ﾉ hajime kokonoi, haruchiyo sanzu, ran haitani, rindou haitani, takeomi akashi mentions of ﾉ mikey sano, kakucho, kanji mochizuki

WHOEVER BETRAYS BONTEN WILL EVENTUALLY BECOME SCRAPS, TOO tags ﾉ dubious consent , degradation , praise , gangbang , power imbalance , pain play , exhibitionism , voyeurism , groping , mention of drug usage ( sanzu ), mentions of alcohol ( takeomi & rindou ), sadism , masochism , dacryphilia , size difference , violent sex , oral ( m. receiving ) spit kink , asphyxiation , fear play , face fucking , mind break , coercion almost , free use , violent language , unprotected sex , handjobs , misogyny ( takeomi ) , slutshaming ( takeomi, again ), bukkake , insults , mean characters , throat bulge , breath play , borderline unconsciousness , hair pulling , suspension , overstimulation , mentions of a breeding kink , multiple orgasms , mentions of a collar , dry humping just a little , humiliation , control , spitroasting , nipple play , canon typical violence , mentions of death several times , gang antics with bonten , and more..!

You were good at listening to orders. one of the best, in fact. It was more than just rare for you to mess up a direct order given to you by one of the executives above you, and that made you the perfect pawn. You could be molded into anything they needed at the time, the perfect canvas for crimson red handprints to cover your body. 

Innocent wasn't exactly the word, it was more like naive, and belligerently hopeful, even when you faced the worst. It was like you couldn't really see the world around you, not completely anyways.

" Sir, " you took in a deep, shaky breath, holding the manila folder in your hand as you walked into Hajime Kokonoi’s office, knowing you'd delivered exactly what you had been told. Even if it came at the cost of other people's lives. " I have the names. "

" Good, good, " Kokonoi didn't even bother to look up from his desk, his throwaway laptop open with the screen away from you, making it impossible for you to see what he was working on, but you thought that it was better the less you knew about what he did for work considering what he had you doing for work. " How many ? "

" Three, " you announced, sitting the manila folder down. For such a simple interaction right now, this had taken more restless nights and more dangerous situations than you really wanted to let yourself think about. It almost felt like it was downplaying and trivializing your efforts. To be fair, it was. 

Sniffing out traitors wasn't an easy job – whether it was checking money wires, phone calls, tailing people, reaching out through connections and plenty of ' friends of a friend ‘ – getting these three names had taken about three weeks of your life that you weren't going to get back. 

You felt blessed by some god that you knew wasn't looking that you didn't have to pull out the gun you kept on you nearly at all times, although you had needed to talk your way out of a situation that could've ended in bloodshed more than once.

" The names ? "

" ..Shinatsuro Kamo, Mikane Shuichi, Chihara Fumihiko. Two of them are in your shell IT company, different branches though. One of them worked as a bartender in the Haitani brothers’ strip club, " you explained in a soft voice, crossing your arms, trying to show that you were just as serious about this as he was. You'd figured out a long time ago that showing pain was nothing more than a big red target on your back, and you had enough eyes watching you for now. " All three of them were connected to the same mole. From what I know, they don't know about each other, at least not their identities, although they may be aware that there are other rats. "

" Did they even try to cover their tracks ? tch. " Gently closing his laptop, Kokonoi grabbed the manila folder, looking through the files you'd put in there. 

Birth certificates, addresses, current pictures of their identity cards, check stubs. You had it all there. None of that was easy to get a hold of, especially not when each of them had more than one different name they went by. But you tailed their trails until you got to their birth names, and had it all down. You even had pictures of one of them from middle school with the worst haircut you’ve ever seen on a kid. 

" You did good. its thorough work for only three weeks with only a vague notion of where to go. "

" Yeah. You'd think next time I might get a bit of hint, " you joked softly, and you swore you heard Kokonoi chuckle a little bit, his hand reaching over and tucking his straight white hair behind his ear as he read through the files, sorting things out on his desk. " Going through the entire list of Bonten's higher ups wasn't easy. "

" The entire list ? "

" Mostly. I knew better than to look into the executives, but I had to check anyone below your status, " you backtracked to answer his question quickly, knowing damn well that if you ever looked into the executives above you, you were as good as dead. The cops would never find your corpse and no one would remember your name. 

Being wiped off of the face of the planet wasn't exactly in the plans of a good night for you, not after all of that work. It had been the worst mission you'd been sent on yet, but you completed it hopefully with flying colors.

" That's good, " Kokonoi sat out the three I.D card copies, examining each one of them. He didn’t outright deny your thought process, but you knew that he didn’t need to. There were some open secrets in Bonten that everyone knew without needing to talk about them. " So these are the men ? And you're sure of that ? "

" If you don't trust me, trust the trails they left behind. "

" We'll have to double check your work, " he pointed out, although with each file that he pulled out, he seemed more and more convinced that you were right in your deductions, which is what you were hoping too. You knew that there was a chance something didn’t add up, that you could be wrong, even with all of the hard work that you put in to get this information. It was small, but this was life and death. " Can't just send men to die without a checks and balances system, right ? "

" Who's going to be checking my work ? " you tried your best not to think about the fates of the men that you were damning, but failing miserably. You hoped that it show on your face.

" Sanzu. "

" So they're dead. " There was no way that Sanzu was going to go the silent path of making sure that all of the trails led up properly. No, he was going to get the answers out of them with chains and saws and pliers. Whether they were guilty or not, they were as good as dead. Death might be a mercy for them if they’re stuck with Sanzu.

Hopefully, you thought, they would give up quickly and spill everything out before Sanzu really got to having fun. Once that happened, who knows how long he would play with them until Mikey gave his orders to finally end their lives. Could be hours, could be days. You hoped that they weren’t as dumb as they seemed. If they can’t cover themselves up properly, at least they could give up easily.

" Well, " Kokonoi put all of the files away back into the manila folder, closing it and sitting it to the side of his otherwise pristine desk. His voice almost sounded light, like he was laughing about it, although his face was still mostly neutral. Kokonoi was hard to read – it wasn't like he was crazy like Sanzu, or quiet like Mikey and Kakucho. No, he was witty and sarcastic, but he was so in the way that it wasn't really actually funny, just dark. Just actually depressing. He told the truth and covered it up with a smile. " You never know, maybe he's feeling merciful. Either way, you'll be there when Mikey decides what to do with them. "

" Ah, thank you, Sir. what an honor, " you couldn't stop yourself from sounding a little bitter about it, knowing that you would witness the culmination of your hard work and honestly, you didn't really want to. Listening to three men that you brought down to Sanzu's favorite warehouse cry and scream out in pain wasn't exactly your idea of a good time, but a direct order was a direct order, and you weren't about to mess up just because you didn't want to. There was plenty of things that you've done that you can't exactly say that you're proud of, and you just thought you were going to add this one to the list.

" We'll see to it that you're there. It'll be your first time in the warehouse, right ? " Kokonoi asked, although he already knew the answer, " I believe it's time to talk to Mikey about making it official. "

" It ? "

" Your work here, I mean. "

" I've done a lot of unpaid labor if this is just the internship, " you mumbled underneath your breath, earning a curious quirk of Kokonoi's eyebrow, but he didn't say anything about your attitude. He was one of the few executives you could talk to like a normal person and he wouldn't paint the walls with your brains.

" You're sort of more like a secretary right now, " Kokonoi clarified, steepling his fingers together and sitting his chin on them, a strand of his hair that he had just pushed back already falling into his eyes as he looked up at you, his sharp eyes taking in your appearance as if he were dissecting you piece by piece, and maybe he's thought about it before. You could never be sure with the Bonten executives just how deep their contempt for humanity ran. " Granted, the papers you bring me aren't exactly just the weekly wealth management reports, but more.. unique to your position, I should say. "

" Despite the others' strengths, there's only one within the executives that's particularly good at sniffing out rats, " Kokonoi continued after your silence, " So it only makes sense that you worked directly underneath me during your time here, given what you do. But to continue your job in a more effective manner, you should be.. promoted, in a sense. Instead of me being the middleman, giving you orders from Mikey, you should get them directly from him instead. Cut out the middleman and there's less room for error. There's no way any information can get lost in translation and cause errors to occur. "

What a professional and roundabout way to say that now, if you fucked up, it would be on your head, and he didn't want to risk having his name attached to your line of work. " I see. so you're wanting to ' promote ' me to executive directly underneath Mikey, instead of working just for you. "

" Precisely. I knew you were smart, " he smiled, eyes narrowing as he watched you shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling a little awkward underneath his gaze. " I still need to suggest it to Mikey, but I'm sure there's going to be little pushback. He's seen the work you've done before this. Everything goes back to him, after all. "

Mikey has eyes and ears everywhere, that much you knew. You, very much so, were considered one of them. Not only did you look out for others within your ' position ' you also were watched by them. You were just particularly good at your job, it seems. What a lucky soul you were, living this life.

" Yes, Sir. "

" Wonderful. Then you're dismissed until a later notice, secretary, " he straightened up, the term slipping from his lips more like an insult than anything else, finally glancing back down at his laptop in front of him, opening it up to continue what he was doing before you came in. " You'll hear word from someone about what's going to happen and when. Be there, although I have no doubt that you won't. "

" Yes, Sir. " You repeated once again, and turned on your heels, your footsteps echoing as you headed towards the door, trying to hold your head high and keep your posture as straight as possible. If there was one thing you were good at other than executing orders given to you, it was keeping up appearances.

" Oh, and one more thing before you go. There's a lady acting up from one of the Haitani brother's clubs, could you check up on her for me ? I believe she's been starting some unfortunate whispers about your connections to me, and I'd like to have that squashed as quick as possible. "

Ah, she thought the two of you were fucking. It was understandable, everyone within a certain ranking knew who you answered to, and who you spent most of your time around, and that included the managers of the Haitani brother's clubs, who often had to answer to Kokonoi for their revenues. You were sure that one had seen you come in or out of Kokonoi's office and tried to connect the dots. 

In fact, you were almost sure you knew exactly who it was: the man who tried to hit on you and you shot him down relatively quickly. You'd been tired that day and didn't even want to entertain the thought of men, especially not one as sleazy as he was, so you may have sounded a little ruder than you anticipated. 

Perhaps he took your denial and then saw you come out of Kokonoi's office and tried to connect the dots to make his ego feel better. What was his name ? Atsuku Tsukima, you were fairly sure. You had most people who were in higher positions in Bonten memorized already, it just sort of came with the job after combing through their names for hours on end. You'd have to pay him a little visit, and check up on that girl of his. 

You also figured you might have to check up and ask why he was telling some random girls at his club about the business of people that he has no right to stick his nose in, too. 

" Yes, Sir. “ You answered him one last time, your hand on the door handle as you turned your head to throw him one more look, finger already holding down the lock so you could push it open. “ I’ll return in a few hours with an update for you. I don’t think she’ll be saying much more about it anymore after tonight. “ 

“ I don’t believe so, either. “ 

Looks like you could sit down your hopes of getting an early day tonight. Of course you had to run around for one more errand before you could really call your day complete, just to get up and do it all over again tomorrow. 

Once you walked through the door, you could feel it all coming back to you at once, like a rush of all of the emotions you’d suppressed to the best of your ability. The fear, the sickness in the pit of your stomach, the regret. 

You condemned three men to death tonight, or something worse than death, and there was nothing you could do about it but keep moving forward, digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole until you could no longer see the sun. But you kept reaching up anyway, ever hopeful that you’d feel the warmth on your skin one day. 

That day wasn’t going to be today. 

Just barely three days after you delivered your report to Kokonoi, you were told the date and the time that you were expected to be in the warehouse with the presence of the other executives, and the leader of the whole organization. You knew that this day was coming, but you honestly could say that you were kind of hoping that Sanzu struggled to find them for a little while longer, if only to put off your own discomfort. But of course, you hadn’t let anyone find out that you were snooping around to the traitors, so the three men had no idea what was happening and probably continued with business as usual. 

You’d known about the warehouse, and even knew the general location and its main use before you’d even been there for the first time. It was just an old storage facility for a car manufacturer that Kokonoi had a hand in. Technically, the warehouse was Kokonoi’s property, but Sanzu spent more than his fair share of time within the uninsulated metal walls. 

You’d only met Sanzu once, and that was a very short time when you were delivering something to Kokonoi and Sanzu just happened to want to chat with him at the same time. 

Even then, you understood early on not to fuck with that man. He was unhinged, with more screws loose than anyone else within Bonten that you knew. Looking at him in the wrong way could potentially mean that you were liable to get your neck snapped in half like a twig, if he was feeling generous that day. 

A few of the Bonten executives you’d never met before were there, as well as Mikey, the leader of it all. You knew of him, heard stories about the kind of person he was through the grapevine, although you could never tell if they were the truth or fiction, even saw his face a couple of times. You’d heard about the man who was once called the Invincible Mikey, who was now a shell of a man and apathetic towards anyone and everyone. 

But you’d never been face to face with him before, and you never really could say that you really wanted to, either. You were perfectly okay with being unnoticed by all of these people that you knew you’d soon be meeting. Or at least, you weren’t important enough to be a name that they saw more than once or twice, with the exception of Kokonoi. 

If someone became important enough that several of them were looking into your name, you usually didn’t live long after that. Usually, that means you did something very, very wrong.

The warehouse was a sweaty cold the moment that you walked inside of it. A large open space, with plenty of crates and carts and parts strewn around. Things underneath tarps that you were smart enough not to look at too closely, especially if something brownish red was leaking out from underneath. It wasn’t insulated, and didn’t have any air conditioning, either, making it just uncomfortable to be in for longer than needed. You felt your fingers and the tip of your nose getting cold, and the bones inside of you rattled a little as you took in a shaky breath. 

Walking forward through the surprisingly well lit yet dusty atmosphere, your footsteps echoed against each wall, sounding a thousand times louder than you were actually walking. There was no way that anyone wasn’t aware of your presence by now, not that you were really hiding your presence to begin with. You weren’t brave enough to try to sneak up on anyone here. Towards the back, you only halfway knew what to expect. You could already smell it when you came in.

The three men you personally condemned were there, dirty, bloody rags tied in their mouths, their arms tied behind their backs with duct tape wrapped around their bodies. Each man was crying hysterically; one, you were sure, even pissed himself. You could smell the stench of urine before you even got a good view of what was going on. There was a cart next to the men with a saw on it, some pliers, unidentifiable chunks of meat that you really didn’t want to look at for too long, knives, scissors, a lighter, and some matches. 

Sanzu was definitely having his fun, and you had the realization that they’d probably been caught the moment you left Kokonoi’s office. You wouldn’t be surprised if forwarding the information to him was the first thing that Kokonoi did after you left. Which probably meant that these men have been in here for days. 

The executives each stood around, some of them looking bored, and others looking on with interest, less about the men being tortured and more about what was actually happening to them. Sanzu stood above them with a gun in his hand, his second favorite choice of weapon, although you were almost positive that he didn’t necessarily care what was in his hands as long as he was able to cause mayhem. 

“ Ah, welcome, “ Kokonoi was the first one to greet you, his hands in his long red shirt’s pockets. You really never realized just how detailed the gold embroidery in his outfit was until you look at it glittering in even the mustiest of areas. Compared to everyone else, Kokonoi stood out the most to you, but that was also perhaps because you knew him the longest and you were the most comfortable around him than anyone else. 

You found yourself gravitating towards Kokonoi before you really even told your feet where to go. With everything going on around you, Kokonoi was the safest option. You held your hands behind your back, one of your hands holding onto your wrist, tilting your head as you looked up at Kokonoi. “ You haven’t been waiting long, I hope ? “ 

“ Not long at all, I believe you’re early, actually, “ he mused, not really caring enough to check the time on his watch. “ I thought you would arrive by the time Sanzu finished off the traitors, but Mikey hasn’t given his order yet. Maybe he was waiting for you. “ 

“ Maybe, “ you agreed easily, nodding slightly as you took a look around. The Haitani brothers were sitting on some metal cargo crates, with the younger brother, Rindou, looking a little bored, a small pout on his lips as he watched Sanzu move around the three sniveling traitors. 

To the side, was a man you didn’t know with a scar across his face, but you knew he was important. He looked like he would be hard to approach, and he wasn’t even watching Sanzu, his eyes were just on the floor, looking down at his own feet perhaps. He didn’t look bored, just indifferent to it all, like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

Close behind Kokonoi was a tall, huge blond man, his expression unreadable. It looked like he hadn’t even taken notice of your presence, or that he was looking past you. He didn’t really look like he was watching Sanzu, either. He looked lost in his own world, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. 

Towards the back, there was a short man sitting down munching on some takoyaki, not even facing the rest of them, and a man close by him with a jacket on but no shirt staring at the exit as if he were already ready to go. 

The three men tied to the ground were writhing around in their pity, trying desperately to free themselves from the situation, fighting against the duct tape hopelessly. Seems one of them had a missing eye, and the other’s leg was busted completely. 

Sanzu laughed, leaning back almost morbidly and dropping a pill from his hand into his waiting, open mouth. Swallowing it, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “ Bring down bonten’s hammer of judgment on the traitors ! “ You thought it was an odd thing to say, but you weren’t going to say that out loud or you definitely would be next.

Sanzu leaned down to the ear of one of them, his finger pressed up against his pursed lips, “ Shh, shh, shh ! Pay attention to Mikey’s words ! “ He looked over his shoulder, his piercing gaze going right through you as he waited for the command of the man eating the takoyaki. 

“ Kill them. “ Mikey’s empty voice was so soft you barely heard it, but it was still audible, if only barely. And that’s all that Sanzu needed. 

You closed your eyes for the next few seconds, wanting to turn to hide, but unable to do that. The three gunshots rang out so loud it buzzed in your head as if you were the one who got shot. It sure did feel like you had, anyways, with the way that your heart lurched in your chest. The stench of blood permeated throughout the area, sinking into your nostrils, choking you with the scent of metal. 

“ Those who don’t fit in Bonten are scraps..! “ This time, you could feel his gaze on you before you even opened up your eyes, tearing you apart. He was directly talking to you, the newcomer within the executives, that much you didn’t need to be a genius to figure out. 

You sucked in a breath, feeling your hands shake behind your back, but you refused to mentally acknowledge that you were scared. If you did, there was a chance the persona you’d seemingly perfectly crafted could unravel at any time, and you were sure that wouldn’t end well for you. No, it was better if you pretended you were unaffected by everything, at least for now. You just had to hold out.

“ Make sure to clean up the dead bodies, “ the man with the scar on his face called, the look on his face best described as apathy. He didn’t look like he cared, nor that he really felt any type of way at all. There was no emotion behind those heterochromatic eyes, just tiredness. Exhaustion that went bone deep. You sort of knew how he felt, but it was still unsettling to look at in front of you.

“ Crush and freeze them. Turn them into fish bait, “ the blond man behind Kokonoi suggested, earning a small chuckle from the older Haitani brother. 

You knew about Ran and Rindou, who had killed when they were children and it just went downhill from there. They’d been on the path of bloodshed since they were kids, but their story wasn’t particularly unique. 

Kokonoi was on the same path since he was young, too, who you’d heard bits and pieces about during your time working underneath him. He’d been a financial treasurer since he was a child, always controlling the puppets around him to do the dirty work for him. If he could help it, Kokonoi never had to lift a finger, he just had to hold out his hand for the profits and keep his finger on the pulses of the most income, no matter what was bringing that money in. 

“ Keep it in your heads, everyone, “ Kokonoi gave you a little smile, his voice holding a hint of a dry, dark joke in there, “ Even between us, whoever betrays Bonten will eventually become scraps too. “ He leaned in close, until his nose was inches away from yours. “ That’s how Bonten works. “ 

You didn’t think you needed the reminder, but the words chilled you to your core anyways, as if you were learning for the first time what kind of organization you worked for.

You kept your head straight ahead, looking at him in the eyes, but you couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing hard, letting out a small shaky exhale through your nose, giving him all that he needed to know about how you were feeling right now. 

“ We have her to thank for bringing these traitors to light, right ? “ Ran asked behind you, not moving from his spot as he examined the way your hands shook behind your back, and you were glad he didn’t mention it. “ If she’s here, then that means.. oh, it wouldn’t happen to be her initiation, right ? “ He said it like he didn’t know, but you were sure that they had all been briefed beforehand about your arrival.

“ I swear, it’s like Sanzu gets to have all of the fun, “ Rindou shook his head, sounding a little annoyed that he had no part of the action yet. “ Where’s her tattoo going to be ? Has Mikey decided it yet, or is someone else choosing for her this time ? “ 

“ Mikey said that it needs to be on her chest so it stays hidden when she’s out and about, “ Kokonoi answered simply for you, finally moving away from your face to look at the Haitani brothers. “ It’s important that her tattoo isn’t easily spotted, so it has to go in a spot that most people would cover up. “ 

Finally interested in what was being talked about, Rindou’s eyes widened, and he almost looked excited, his eyes going wide with a goofy grin on his face, “ No way ! We’re putting the tattoo in between her tits ? “ 

“ That’s what the boss said. “ 

While you were occupied with listening to the conversation, Sanzu was moving along behind you, tucking the gun into the belt of his pinstripe pants. You could hear him moving about with the way that each of his steps echoed throughout the warehouse, but you didn’t dare to look back at him. Not yet, at least, unless you found yourself looking at something that maybe you didn’t want to see. 

“ Hey, Mochizuki, come help me with these goddamn bodies ! “ Sanzu yelled out, his voice strangely cheerful as if he were saying something completely normal. “ Since it was your genius idea to freeze them, you should be the one to pack them up into the cart so I can take them somewhere they’d freeze later. “ 

You thought it was just the way his voice carried that made him seem like he was closer than he actually was, but a hand smacked down on your shoulder, quickly jerking you back to look up at Sanzu. “ Can’t have the stupid little secretary getting sick while we tattoo her, yeah ? ..Is secretary the right word for you, or does snoop work better for you ? Since all you do is find people and bring them to me for me and Mikey to judge. Ah, I can’t tell which one works better. Maybe they both fit you. “ 

You kept quiet, letting him ramble on about what mildly insulting title fit you best, but you could feel the color drain from your face as you were brought face to face with this killer. Sanzu was insane. There wasn’t a single part of him that could ever even remotely be considered normal by any standards. He’d lost all of his marbles so long ago that you weren’t sure if he even remembered a time that he had a coherent thought that wasn’t about his next fix of murder or drugs. Not that you could ever in your life voice these opinions out to him, unless you wanted to end up as fish bait. 

“ I’m going to be doing your tattoo today, it’s a pleasure, “ Sanzu grinned lazily right in your face. His pupils were dilated, and he looked a little unsteady, but he kept himself relatively straight, rolling his neck and tilting his head as he got a better look at your face. His neck popped several times with a sickening crunch, and you wondered briefly if it had to hurt, or if he could even feel it. “ This is yours, Kokonoi ? “

“ Yeah. She worked underneath me. “ 

“ Underneath you ? “ 

“ ..Yeah. “ 

“ Hm. Ooookay, “ Sanzu didn’t say anything else, pulling himself away from you and turning right on his heels to help Mochizuki, the man with the blond hair, so you’d learned, with moving the bodies into a crate for later use. You looked up at Kokonoi, trying to keep your face neutral and honestly failing pretty badly at this point. 

You were terrified not only of Sanzu, but also about everything that was going on around you. This was more than you were expecting, and possibly even worse than anything you could’ve imagined so far. You weren’t sure if it was the cold or the absolute terror in your body that made your limbs feel like they were going numb. You couldn’t think, using the last of your resilience to stand up straight and not break down where you stood. 

“ I think that means he likes you, “ Kokonoi mentioned casually, either unaware of your feelings or simply uncaring about them. you didn’t know which, but it was better you didn’t ask. 

“ Maybe he’s trying to see how long it takes for you to snap ! “ Ran called out, laughing a little at his own words, and earning himself a chuckle from his younger brother. You were sure you really didn’t need to hear that. Maybe Ran was the one who wanted you to snap, maybe they all were waiting for the moment where you just gave up, but you weren’t going to do that. You just had to get through this tattoo and then you were going to get the hell out of there. 

You’d worry about the next executive meeting when it came down to it. But all of this in one night was far too much for you. You brought those men to this warehouse in the first place. Although you weren’t the one who pulled the trigger, you were the one who put the red target on the back of their heads anyways. Their murders were on your hands as much as they were on Sanzu’s. You’d think after all of this time within Bonten, you’d have your head on straight and would become numb to the feeling of blood slipping through your fingers. 

You did not.

“ She doesn’t really look like a killer to me, “ Kakucho shook his head, barely giving you a glance before he passed on his judgment to you. “ She’s better as an informant than with the actual gun, but having her in the executive ranks was up to Mikey. He has a better idea on what’s best for Bonten than anyone else. “ 

“ I think she could kill ! If she was pushed far enough ! We could push her and see what happens, “ Rindou chimed in with a little nod, pretty proud of himself for his observation of you. 

You had to think for a second, your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you thought about it. Could you kill ? Could you pull the trigger on someone else’s life and cut it short ? You didn’t know. Sure, you’d hurt people before, and maybe those injuries had left them to die, but you’d never seen the lights fade from someone else’s eyes. You weren’t sure you wanted to, either.

You were learning pretty quickly that there was a lot of things that you didn’t know, and a lot of things that you didn’t want to know.

You did know, however, that all of the men within the warehouse was staring at you, judging you, picking you apart and trying to see what made you tick inside. Trying to see everything about you, the good, the bad, the wrong, the ugly. Even without their eyes directly on you, you knew you were being watched. That you were always tabbed no matter what you did or where you went. 

And these men were not the type of people to take notes and then go find someone else to deal with any potentially incorrect behavior, they were the reprimanders. They were the ones who ended the lives of plenty of people every single day. Innocents, bystanders. Anyone. Everyone. No one was safe from Bonten’s grip.

And you so naively had walked right into their hands. 

They would take your wings and rip them off of your body so you could never fly again, so you would be stuck in the pits of hell just like they were. Even sicker, is that they knew you would come to enjoy it after a time. a caught animal never outgrows its cage, after all. You were nothing more than an animal for them, a pet. And you were about to get permanently branded as one, too. 

The realization hit you harder than you cared to admit.

“ Come on ! Sit, sit ! Don’t waste more of my night here ! “ you hadn’t realized that Sanzu was back now without Mochizuki, and he had grabbed a metal folding chair, slapping it down a few feet in front of you. 

He tapped the back of it a few times, letting you know that he was getting impatient with you just standing there and staring at him, although it’s only been a few seconds now. You swallowed hard, moving over to take a seat on the chair, feeling the cold of the metal even through the fabric of the pants you were wearing. 

Now that you were sat, the world within this warehouse felt a lot larger than you’d previously thought. You could see how high the ceiling was, and could feel how absolutely suffocating the freezing air around you truly was. You couldn’t breathe in deeply without the lingering scent of blood and the overwhelming scent of something molding and rotting. Every breath you took stung your lungs, the cold having seeped into your skin and reaching the marrow of your bones. 

“ Gotta find my tattoo gun and get everything ready. you sit there and look pretty, “ Sanzu sneered out, hand clapping on your shoulder once before turning around to do exactly what he said he was going to do. You knew that this was likely not exactly the safest way to get a tattoo, nor would it be the easiest to deal with. 

He was a few feet away when he turned back for a second, his face surprisingly serious when he stared at you. “ Oh, and take off that shirt and bra or I’ll rip the shit off of you when I come back. “ 

Not a single part of you wanted to take off your shirt, but you found yourself with your fingers nimbly working on the buttons of the white dress shirt you were wearing anyways. Whether it was out of fear or out of habit to follow orders, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t going to think too much about it, either. 

The fabric slipped off of your shoulders, and you twisted over to have it cover the back of the chair so you didn’t have to press your back against the cold bare metal. 

You took off your bra slower, fumbling with the front clasp before shrugging it off of your arms, letting it drop onto the dirty floor. instinctually, you covered your chest up, wrapping your arms around your tits. But you already knew that your attempt at modesty did nothing. Everyone who was looking already saw. 

You couldn’t make eye contact with anyone, your head down, looking at your lap while you waited sort of patiently. There was no way this was going to take longer than twenty minutes, and then you could put your shirt back on and never think about it again. 

In between all of the genuine fear and lightheadedness that you felt, you also felt a pit in the bottom of your stomach form, tightly coiled but barely noticeable or distinguishable from the other coursing emotions rushing through you. In your haze, you didn’t think about it, didn’t even acknowledge that it was there. 

When Sanzu came back, he had a tattoo gun in his hands, and a cart that you really hoped wasn’t the cart that he just had his torture weapons sat on, and that pile of flesh that you really tried to erase from your memories. “ Hold your tits and keep them spread for me. I can’t work if my canvas is covered. “ 

You nodded, sliding your arms apart and grabbing your own chest, keeping the skin taut so he could work properly. 

Originally, he was just leaning over you, his posture awkward and probably uncomfortable for him, if he could feel his own body, but he decided that he wasn’t close enough, so his free hand that wasn’t holding the gun grabbed your leg and forced your thighs apart, stepping in between them so he was closer to you. 

It only took him a moment before he came up with another order, clearly still unhappy with the way that you were sat on the chair for him. “ Scooch your ass nearly off the edge of the chair. You’re sitting too straight. “ 

Before he gave you a chance to answer or follow through with his demands, Sanzu grabbed your hips, pulling you forward until your butt was nearly hanging off the chair, and you needed to plant your feet firmly into the floor to keep yourself from falling. Your eyes widened, trying not to make any noises from the way that he had grabbed you in such a way, completely manhandling you as if you were just a doll for him that he could throw around and pose how he wanted. 

“ S-Sir- ! “ You yelped, desperation hinting within your tone. 

Once he was happy with your position, completely ignoring your little yelp, he started to clean the area, the alcohol freezing cold as it hit your skin. It wasn’t until the tattoo gun turned on, and he dipped the needles into the ink that you realized that there really was no backing out of this now, not that there ever was. 

Your grip on your own chest tightened, nails digging into the skin as Sanzu leaned a little closer. As he got nearer, he shuffled propping his knee up on the edge of the chair, right in between your legs, pressing against the sensitive flesh of your most intimate area. You wanted to gasp, but the sound caught in your throat.

You didn’t have time to say or do anything as he finally touched the gun to your skin. No one really could’ve prepared you for what it felt like when Sanzu made the first mark on your skin. The needle was so close to the bone of your sternum, it felt like a painful vibration that shook your entire diaphragm, stealing your breath away. You closed your eyes tightly, breathing through your nose, nails digging into your chest so hard you swore you were going to break the skin. 

Oh, god, it hurt. It hurt so much worse than you were anticipating. 

Everything about this was wrong. You couldn’t stop yourself from tearing up, your entire body shaking from the tattoo gun needle going in and out of your skin. It didn’t feel like a million tiny little stabs like you had expected it to feel, more like the constant drag of a serrated blade against your skin, tearing at your flesh and forcing you to watch as it inked you just below the surface level. 

But the pain wasn’t really the worst part of it, it was just the catalyst for what set off every single one of your fear reactions after being on edge this entire time. You knew you were being watched, that every man had his eyes on you and were watching with rapt attention. 

It was something about being watched that pricked at your skin, making you feel everything far more intensely than you thought you would, like their eyes on you was some kind of aphrodisiac. 

You weren’t sure when anyone moved from the places that they were at previously, but now there were important, dangerous men circled all around you, watching as you were positively defiled by Sanzu and the tattoo gun. They were like vultures watching their next meal, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

You felt pathetic, and watched, and used. And it didn’t help that in between your legs, you could feel just enough friction that it made your already tense body clench up even further, his knee pressed against you as he focused on getting the lines perfect. You were trying to find something, anything to focus on that wasn’t how you felt in this very moment. 

“ You’re playing with the big boys now, little lady, “ Rindou hummed behind you, his voice almost melodic as his hand found it’s way to your shoulder, giving you a grin that you didn’t look at. 

“ Look at her shake like a leaf ! “ Ran snickered as he leaned down, his eyes narrowed while he looked at you. You could feel his breath hot on your neck, but it took everything out of you to wrench open one eye to see what was going on around you. 

Your eyes immediately met the older Haitani brother’s gaze, and you felt your heart leap out of your throat. Why was he so close ? Why was he looking at you like that ? You could feel the fat of your thigh bounce a little as you shook underneath their gazes. 

" Can this bitch stop fuckin' squirmin' ? " You could hear Sanzu's voice cut through your thoughts and the sound of the tattoo gun whirling that made your head spin a little bit. 

You felt small and insignificant, around all of these important men, shirtless and sat in a dirty old metal chair in the warehouse where a few men lost their lives because of you today. Your hand was covering your chest, keeping the skin taunt for Sanzu as he hovered over you in between your spread legs, one of his hands coming down to rest on your hip, knee pressed against you lewdly. 

Rindou chuckled, keeping his hand on your bare shoulder, feeling each jump of your muscles with every drag of the tattoo gun on your skin. “ Maybe not, but she sure is cute, don’t you think, Koko ? “ 

“ Mhm, “ Kokonoi was staring at you, you could feel his eyes examining your face scrunched up in pain as you tried and failed to keep your breathing steady, his features unreadable other than a small little smile on his lips. “ That’s my secretary for you. “

“ She’s fuckin’ adorable. Better like this than when she’s trying to act like a big shot in a world not built for her, “ this was the first time you’d heard Takeomi’s voice, and you were completely unsure where his voice was coming from, but all of the voices sounded like they were surrounding you, echoing off of the warehouse’s walls and amplifying them tenfold. 

You could also hear every pitiful little noise that came from the bottom of your throat no matter how much you tried to keep yourself calm. You were whimpering, your chest threatening hiccups as you fought back tears. It was too much. They were all mocking you like you were just a toy, something weak and easily broken, snapped in half like a twig. 

“ No way, is she gonna cry ? “ Ran gasped, his eyes wide as he noticed the tears that were threatening to bubble up in your eyes. 

“ She is ! Look at her cry ! “ The embarrassment of the Haitani brothers calling you out for crying was enough for the tears to finally overflow from your waterline, streaming down your face. You leaned your head back, eyes closed tightly as you tried to stop yourself from crying and hiccuping. 

You felt like a stupid school girl getting bullied by the older kids on the playground, your body on display for them as Sanzu etched black ink lines into your skin. Your cheeks felt bright red, and you wanted to pull away from Sanzu, and run and hide from them. Maybe if you ran fast enough from this god forsaken warehouse, they would take a few days to catch you.

As if it were a type of sick punishment for all of the sins you committed, Sanzu shifted just a little, knee rubbing against you and making you gasp loud through your messy, fat tears, your noises reverberating on the walls of the warehouse. You couldn’t hide that reaction, not even from yourself. 

Fuck, you needed more of that feeling, the pain of the tattoo gun almost dulling for a moment before the pain came back.

" ..She’s crying ? " If you didn't know any better, you'd really think that Kakucho almost sounded worried for you, but no one there had any intention of stopping Sanzu from finishing your tattoo. 

This was something that all Bonten executives had to go through, you knew this, almost like an initiation of sorts, and of course you were no exception to this case. 

But it didn't help that you were shirtless, and you could feel the eyes of several men staring at your body, taking in the sight before them. A few seemed to be enjoying your pain far, far too much, but you were in no position to say anything to them at this very moment even if you could, not when you could barely get out a sentence without whimpering.

“ Pathetic little bitch can’t even stop crying f’me, “ Sanzu murmured underneath his breath, his hand finding its place back on your hip, holding you still firmly against the chair. “ Stay still for me or I’m gonna fuck up. I’m almost done. shit. “ 

With each little line he drew on your skin, you really couldn’t think of anything other than the pain, their eyes on you, and the pressure between your legs. The embarrassment, stinging, and friction created the worst amalgamation of sensations throughout your entire body, you didn’t know whether or not to cry out in pain or moan out, or to break down sobbing. 

You were thinking that you might honestly do all three at the same time. You needed something that could ground you and bring you down from the headspace that you didn’t really want to be in, and before you really even had a chance to think about it, you opened your mouth to speak. 

“ K-Koko..! Pl-please.. ! “ You whimpered, hot tears falling from your eyes as you looked up for him, desperate for something, anything. 

“ She’s the cutest ! “ Ran laughed, his hand trailing down your shoulder to your hands that were still holding your breast, squeezing it a little bit. His actions didn’t go unnoticed, but you didn’t have it in you to say anything about how his long, calloused fingers felt pressed against the soft, pillowy flesh of your tit.

“ Shh, shh, “ Kokonoi shuffled around a little bit so he was directly behind you, his hand ghosting over your sensitive little neck, holding your head and tilting your chin back so your head rested on his stomach. 

“ You’re okay. Don’t even worry about them, don’t listen to a word they say. You’re doing so good, can you keep your eyes on me, pretty girl ? Look at me, look at me. You can take it, right ? Just a little more. “ He whispered softly, his voice slow and soothing, piercing through the low rumble loud in your ears through the pounding of your eardrums. 

You couldn’t really say he was calming you down, more like he was distracting you from the soft, subtle touches of the other executives. Ran’s hand on your chest, Rindou touching right below your chest on the other side, dragging his nail against your sensitive skin, Sanzu holding your hip down onto the chair, Kokonoi’s hand playing with your hair as he hummed little pleasantries in your ear. 

They were all touching you, unabashed with the way they got tired of just watching and now wanted to participate in Sanzu’s defilement of you.

“ Pl-please, no- no more, “ you sniffled, looking up at Kokonoi with a pout on your shaky bottom lip. You saw him smile a little, and his grip on your neck tightened just a little bit, squeezing the sides of your neck, stealing what little breath you had. 

“ You can do it, pretty girl. You’re getting too worked up, need something to calm you down, yeah ? “ 

Sanzu shifted again slightly, his eyes trained on the flesh he was almost done marking. His knee rubbed up against you, causing you to gasp out loud, your eyes rolling back a little bit. Kokonoi hand that was on your hair tightened up a little bit, pulling slightly. 

“ I said look at me, girl. You can follow simple instructions, can’t you ? “ You winced, barely opening one teary eye to look up at him. 

He looked so sickeningly sweet, like the worst drug you could possibly get addicted to. Being surrounded by all of the Bonten executives, each one of them cooing at you in a mocking attempt to comfort you and touching at your body, it was making your already fuzzy head swim with too much to form anything coherent. 

It almost felt good, the dull, throbbing sensation flooding through your body in small little bursts with each stroke of the tattoo gun against your skin.

Ran’s fingers began to tweak at your nipple, rolling the hardened bud in between his two fingers, not even caring enough to be gentle. Rindou’s hand soon followed suit, pushing against your nipple in and rubbing small circles, his nail digging in just slight enough that you could feel it. The two of them were so in sync without needing a word, it was almost hypnotizing how good your tits felt in their hands.

Kokonoi’s hand was still tightly around your throat, squeezing enough just to steal the breath from your lungs. He seemed pleased with how limp your body had gone by now, how all three of them could touch you like this and you didn’t try to fight back against them. He wasn’t a sadist like the Haitanis or Sanzu, but he did enjoy watching someone crumble right underneath his fingertips. Especially someone as beautiful and pathetic as you, it made it all the more enjoyable.

“ Maybe she’s finally given up on trying to be a bad girl or whatever and is ready to be a slut like the rest of them, “ Takeomi finally mumbled underneath his breath, standing behind Ran and Kokonoi and watching this all unfold in front of him. He didn’t need to touch you, not when the others were already getting you riled up past your breaking point. He was just watching and waiting for the moment where he’d be able to see the exact moment your brain turned off. 

“ There, see ? All done, “ Sanzu said finally, turning off the tattoo gun, sitting it down onto the cart beside him. “ Dumb bitch couldn’t keep still but I still managed to get it straight. “

“ I’m gonna finish you, it's gonna be cold and then painful. Don't be a bitch about it. " Was all that Sanzu said to warn you as he grabbed a wet rag, cleaning off the spilled ink from your chest. 

The coldness shocked you, causing you to jump up a little bit but it really wasn’t that bad. Then, completely out of the blue, he squirted the isopropyl alcohol directly onto your chest from the bottle, before wiping it off with some soaked gauze. 

You gasped, letting out a truly pathetic little scream with what little breath you had from Kokonoi’s hand around your throat as Sanzu cleaned the area almost too harshly for you. You'd been told that the alcohol hurt a thousand times worse than the actual tattoo itself, but it still managed to completely take your breath away, especially with Sanzu's cruelty. 

Kokonoi's hand moved from your neck to your cheek, letting you breathe finally as he gently wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. The act itself was so much more domestic compared to the spinning in your head, almost enough to make you forget about everything around you. You wanted to nuzzle into his hand and cry for even longer, but you stopped yourself from doing that. At least, you thought you did.

“ She’s like a dog trying to get affection from her master, “ Rindou joked softly, earning a little chuckle from his older brother. 

“ Maybe she’ll bark if we ask her to nicely. We can teach her how to bark like a mutt, “ Ran agreed, letting go of your tit. Everyone was gradually pulling away from you, at least far enough for you to gather your bearings, though you could still feel their eyes on you. 

You tried to push your legs closed, picking your head up from Kokonoi’s stomach, wanting to pick your bra up off of the floor, to regain some semblance of the dignity you had before you walked in here, wiping the tears with the back of your hands. But Sanzu stepped quickly in between your legs again, his eyes glaring down as his knee found a familiar spot in between your legs to keep you from closing your thighs together easily. 

“ Mm, bad dog. Keep ‘em spread. I have to show Koko something once I’m done cleaning you up, “ Sanzu rolled his eyes, grabbing a bandage to slap on your tattoo now that he had cleaned it up. He threw it on your chest over the tattoo, fingers surprisingly gentle despite his words. 

You knitted your eyebrows together, and Kokonoi shifted around so he could get a good look at what Sanzu was talking about.

“ You needed me ? “

“ Look. “

Kokonoi’s eyes locked onto your body for a second, looking from your face to the bandaged tattoo, down the your navel. You felt a little shy underneath his gaze, which was odd considering you’ve been half naked in front of him this entire time, looking away from him and sitting your cheek onto your shoulder, physically curling inward on yourself. 

After a moment, you saw his eyes wide as he noticed something, his gaze locked onto the crotch of your pants where Sanzu’s knee had been pressed against you. “ ..There’s really not a thought going on inside of that dumb little head, huh ? “ He asked, glancing up at Sanzu and then back down at your body. “ Feeling like that at a time like this.. Maybe you’re more fucked up than I initially gave you credit for. “

Rindou’s attention had been piqued by that, wondering what could have possibly happened, although he had a good idea by now, and he followed Kokonoi’s gaze to the seat of your pants, his face contorting into excitement as he turned to his brother, a cheeky grin on his face. “ She really got off on us watching her cry ! Look at her, she’s so fuckin’ soaked ! “ 

Your eyes widened, and your hand immediately flew down to hide the crotch of your pants, your face turning into a million shades of red within the moment. “ I-I– wait..! Hold on ! I– “ you stuttered out, trying to find some good excuse, but everyone there knew there really wasn’t one that you could give that could possibly explain such a strong reaction if it was just Sanzu’s knee pressed against you. 

Sanzu couldn’t stop himself, or rather made no attempt to stop himself, as one of his hands came up to rest on your shoulder, knee rubbing up against you through the thick fabric of your slacks. It was almost pathetic how quickly your little denials about what was going on turned into squeals of pleasure, head leaning back to look up at the ceiling of the warehouse as Sanzu tested how sensitive you really are. 

“ She really is cute, “ Ran said finally, grinning as he reached for your tits again, this time he wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it, and you seemed more than willing to let him cup your tits with both hands as he stood behind you, rubbing and playing with them. “ Maybe we really should teach her how to bark, she’d make really cute sounds. “ He made it sound like he was just joking when he suggested it beforehand, but you weren’t entirely convinced that was the truth now. 

You wanted to protest, to tell them to get their hands off of you and let you get dressed so you could go, but the words died in your throat somewhere along the way, leaving just little helpless whimpers and breathy mumbles of some sound that might’ve been ‘ please ‘.  

Rindou was quick to take Kokonoi’s previous spot behind you, letting your head rest on his stomach with his hands in your hair. He peered down at you, shooting you an evil grin that really only told you that you were in some serious trouble with the Haitanis and Sanzu touching you like this. 

Without him even really needing to say, you knew that he wasn’t as kind as Kokonoi was. Where he was at least kind enough to pretend to console you, Rindou was not that kind of person, not really. 

With his hand snaking down your side profile down to your throat, Rindou used his finger to keep your head tilted for him. His knuckles grazed against the column of your neck with his thumb nail pressed into your chin, forcing you to only look at him while the other two men touched and defiled your sensitive body that was already on the edge of it being way, way too much. “ What ? Not gonna call out for me to come save you like you did for Kokonoi ? “ 

“ She probably knows you’re not going to save her, “ Ran pointed out, hands eagerly pulling at your nipples, causing you to squeak out in surprise. You could faintly feel something trickle down your bottom lip onto your chin, but the thought really didn’t cross your mind to be concerned about it until you heard Rindou speak up again. 

“ She’s drooling now, “ Rindou pointed out rather bluntly, and you were reached forward sort of absentmindedly, wanting to wipe away any evidence of what he was talking about, but it really only incriminated you more. 

The older Haitani laughed a little at your little action, and you had to wonder briefly if those two ever only talked to each other or if they could actually interact with the other executives. You were pretty sure that these two could forget that others were in the room with them with how much they talked with just themselves.

“ Is she ? That’s too cute, “ Kokonoi called out from somewhere to the left of you, although you weren’t exactly sure where. The warehouse made everyone sound far closer than they actually were, with voices sounding like they were right in your ear the entire time and giving you no time to process what little thoughts you were actually having. 

Really the only thing you could think about was the way Sanzu’s knee was pressed up so deliciously against the most sensitive part of your body, the way his hand gripped your shoulder hard enough to hurt, digging into the bone of your shoulderblade. He’s not saying anything, his eyes glued to the spot on your crotch that was starting to soak through his own pinstripe slacks, causing the dark pink color of his suit to turn even darker right where he was pressed against you. 

There was no way that Rindou couldn’t see it play plain across your face the moment that Sanzu’s knee jerked slightly, pressed against your clit through your pants in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head for a moment. “ There she goes, all fucked out and stupid, “ he snickered, leaning down to your face, hand tightening around your throat as he finally gave it a squeeze, forcing a little gasp from your lips. 

You could see his eyes flicker away from you for a moment to what you could really only assume was Sanzu’s expression, but he looked back down at you moments after, neck still in his hands as he brought himself down for a kiss from you. As if on cue, Ran pinched both of your nipples harshly, making you moan out into the kiss just moments after his lips pressed against yours. 

Rindou tasted like alcohol, and it almost made you want to scrunch up your nose in slight disgust at the strong flavor of several different alcohols mixed together. He didn’t act drunk, not really, but you could only imagine that he was six or seven drinks deep by now. 

Maybe that was why he didn’t seem to have any reaction, even looking bored, when those gunshots rang out earlier. maybe he really was just like that, and there was no explaining him or anyone else here. 

you’ve been kissed before, and touched, but there was something about having six hands on your body at once that brought your mind spiraling to a place that you weren’t even sure you’d ever been in before. You felt like nothing, like every muscle in your body was suddenly torn into pieces and left you boneless and weak while surrounded by these men. 

You could feel eyes all around you, taking in your disheveled, desperate state. Kokonoi was definitely watching, and possibly that older man, Takeomi. You were vaguely aware that a few people were missing, but you couldn’t possibly really think about what that could mean. Were Mikey and Kakucho also just watching ? What about that other guy, Mochizuki, or had he completely left all together to go take care of those bodies ? 

The idea of people watching you somehow made you more nervous than the six hands actually touching your body. Were they disgusted ? Did they think you were just some common whore ? Did they pity you, or something equally frustrating ? Before you walked into this warehouse, you had a decent grasp on who you were in Bonten. 

Now, you weren’t sure about anything other than the knee pressed up harshly against you that with every movement from either you or him, it sent a shock of pleasure up your spine, and the slight pain of your nipples being punished and abused, and the strong taste of alcohol on your lips that you swore you could get drunk off of. 

If there was a light at the end of this, you were pretty sure it was just the glaring, annoyingly bright florescent lights overhead, or the hazy feeling in your stomach as all of the sensations started to overwhelm you, the pit in your stomach growing bigger, needier, with every moment. 

Right before you could really focus on that feeling, Sanzu’s knee pulled away from you, and you tried to jerk your head away from Rindou to look at him, but his grip on your neck tightened, keeping you firmly in place against him, and refusing to let you go just like that. 

At your gasp, he pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, the taste of his saliva momentarily shocking you from really reacting. 

Fuck, whatever bullshit you were thinking about him tasting like alcohol was wrong, and you knew it now. He tasted divine. Like someone you could get addicted to kissing and forget about everything else in the world, and there was no doubt that Rindou knew that you were enjoying his kiss, too, especially with the way that your body almost instinctively reacted against his touch. 

You could feel your pants being tugged off of your body, the fabric that had been so soaked against your pussy peeling off uncomfortably, making you want to squirm around in that cold metal chair. One of the hands on your tits glided down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Ran slipped his hand into your panties, more curious than anything else about your body. 

“ Fuck, “ Ran whispered under his breath as his pointer and ring finger spread you open, his ring finger dipping into your heat, and you could hear Sanzu grunting in agreement immediately, like he knew just how soaked you were without even touching you properly. “ She’s so fucking wet. A sopping, needy little thing. “ 

Rindou pulled away, if only for a moment, leaving your mouth open and waiting for more of him. He’d been something that grounded you in place, to not have his lips on yours almost felt inexplicably wrong. With the distraction gone, however, you tried to peer back at Sanzu and Ran, but Rindou had a tight grip on your hair, keeping you from moving your head. 

“ She is needy, “ he agreed, his voice a soft purr as Rindou looked down at you, clearly tempted to kiss you again, but refraining from doing so. Ran’s ring finger curled inside of you, finally breaching your soaked little hole and making a pathetic noise fall from your lips.

“ Most sluts like her are, “ you could hear some shuffling around as Takeomi spoke, and you had to wonder how close he was. It wasn’t until he was right in your face, grey eyes with a scar running down one side of his face peering at you like he was looking at something below him. 

Compared to the amusement dancing around Rindou’s eyes, and the faux comfort in Kokonoi’s, looking at Takeomi was like looking at someone who’s hatred for you went deeper than his own bones. 

With your head pulled back, you couldn’t do much as Takeomi leaned in closer, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing the smoke directly in your face. You shook your head, trying not to cough, but in the end the taste of nicotine choked you, and you couldn’t help your body’s natural reaction of wanting to fight back, trying to pull your head away from Rindou’s grip as you coughed. 

Takeomi’s hand moved to grab your face, causing you to stiffen against his grip. His fingers dig harshly into the soft flesh of your cheeks, forcing your jaws apart and your mouth open. You weren’t sure just how many bruises on your body you were going to have after you escaped from this warehouse, but you already knew that you’d have his fingerprints on you that would take days for them to properly go away. 

Without a warning or any inclination of what he was doing, he spit in your mouth, the filthy act making you immediately recoil in surprise, eyes blown wide as it hit your tongue. 

It tasted bad, like cheap alcohol and nicotine, the flavor enough to make you want to retch ever so slightly. your knee bounced up and down as your face scrunched up, nose crinkling in distaste and you momentarily entertained the thought of spitting it back out of your mouth to get the taste out quicker. But you didn’t get far with that thought.

“ Swallow it, “ Kokonoi ordered simply without a moment’s hesitation, as if he could read your thoughts. 

You could feel your stomach drop down to your feet, but something inside of you told you to listen, like you couldn’t really deny Kokonoi – or anyone else here, really – if they told you to directly do something. You were the best at following orders, that’s what got you so far up the ladder in Bonten. It was an act that you had perfected down to an art form, and you weren’t easily swayed out of old habits.

With your mouth still forced open by Takeomi, you let the spit that had hit your tongue drip down to the back of your throat, gulping just enough that it went down. 

And with that, Takeomi pulled away only slightly, his hand pulling away from your cheeks and letting you close your mouth again. His much larger hand rests on one of your cheeks for a moment, almost tenderly, before delivering a small slap to your face. 

It didn’t hurt all that much since your body was primed and ready for pain after everything that has happened today, it just shocked you a little, and you let out a little gasp of surprise when you felt the slight stinging on your cheek. But Takeomi moved away from you after glancing over your body one good time, taking in every one of your curves and the dips of your body, his gaze somewhere in between reverent admiration and absolute hatred. 

“ She really takes orders from Koko still ! “ Ran snickered after everything settled for a moment, his finger still stuffed deep into your cunt, curled to hit that spot within you that made you want to moan out and forget everything except for the feeling. 

“ Yeah, don’t you know you’re an executive now ? You don’t have to take orders from Koko, “ Rindou pointed out in agreement to his older brother, like usual going along with whatever Ran says and just being mean. His grip on your hair softened a little bit, but he didn’t want you to look back just yet. “ Or any of us, really. You don’t have to listen to a single one of us anymore other than Mikey. “ 

Was Mikey even in the warehouse anymore ? Did he have any say over what was going on, did he simply not care, or was he enjoying it, too ? You now knew that Takeomi was there and participating, but it still felt a few people weren’t, or at least, they weren’t active in touching you. 

Mochizuki, Kakucho, and Mikey weren’t there yet, something that you wanted to ask about, or at least figure out who was touching you and who was just watching. But you didn’t have a good idea of your surroundings, your vision usually forced a certain direction by the people manipulating and violating your body.

Before you could say these thoughts, however, Ran’s hand moves away from your pussy, pulling out of you completely and moving away from your body just slightly, and Rindou had all but completely let go of your hair, although your head was still back as you tried to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. You wanted to whine about the lack of contact, the sound welling up in your throat.

You didn’t really have time to do either one of those things as your legs get hoisted up over Sanzu’s shoulders, body pressed against his in a way that had your head reeling with the new type of contact. You’re barely hanging on to the small metal chair, ass almost hanging off of it like you were bound to fall any second now. 

Its not until you feel your panties being pulled to the side of your cunt that you can really get a good understanding of what was going on, or what was about to happen. 

“ I– wait– “ you started nervously, glancing down to look at Sanzu, but he wasn’t looking at your face, his eyes lowered at where your body was against his. 

You didn’t want him not to do it, some part of you was more excited about this than you cared to let on to anyone, even if everyone could already see it on your face without you having to say anything about it. You could feel your own wetness drip down your body and onto the ground below you, probably on Sanzu’s shoes or the cold cement ground. 

“ Mm– no, I’ve been waiting long enough, “ Sanzu said impatiently, his voice still holding just a little bit of that bark it had when he first met you. Sanzu was mean, and he didn’t pretend to be anything less than that. Cold and detached from most things, you knew that he didn’t care really if you were absolutely ready or not. 

“ Bitch is fucking soaked f’me, god, “ he mumbled underneath his breath, more to himself than anyone else, but the Haitanis both let out little chuckles at his words anyways. Ran, in particular, who’d spent the last few minutes prepping you for him, not that you really needed it or anything. 

You found yourself holding your breath as you watched him unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down, the outline of his hard cock visible before he even got it out yet. 

Fuck, you were going to die. It wasn’t so much the length of him that made your stomach twist in nervous knots as it was the look on Sanzu’s face, like he was going to take exactly what he wanted now that there was nothing between the two of you. 

You wanted to beg him for just another moment, but you knew that your pleas would fall on deaf ears as he let go of one of your legs to guide himself into your entrance. With a swift, fluid motion, Sanzu pushed himself into you, the stretch of having him inside of you making mewl out in pleasure, little moans escaping from your throat. 

Both of Sanzu’s hands went back to your legs, pulling you a little closer to him as he began to fuck into you with a pace that bordered on violent, his hips meeting yours as he embedded himself in your gooey walls entirely with each thrust. He was barely pulling out, his entirely length disappearing completely inside of you, his balls hitting the plumpness of your ass every movement. 

“ A-ah.. f-fuck..! “ You whimpered, gasping a little bit as he fucked you, unrelenting in taking what he wanted. You tried to say something, but your words were incoherent and incomprehensible, your voice hiccuping in your throat as you just moaned like a desperate whore for him, for all of these men around you. 

After being pushed to the edge for so long, first with the tattoo and then with the teasing and now this, you couldn’t hold on anymore, not with how Sanzu felt inside of you, and the feeling of being watched by everyone around you, hands letting go of the chair that you’d been holding onto as you felt your orgasm crash over you almost painfully. 

You could hear each one of your pathetically loud moans reverberate off of the walls of the warehouse, making your desperation for more all the more obvious to each one of them. You could feel the force of each of Sanzu’s thrusts bouncing your entire body against the metal chair, until you couldn’t stay on any longer, ass falling off of the chair and you let out a scream of surprise, but Sanzu didn’t let up.

He bent over slightly, still deep inside of you now as he let out several little grunts, a mixture of annoyance and pleasure as he felt your body squeeze around him. Your legs were still thrown over his shoulders as you tried to reach for the ground, your body suspended completely in the air with no good way of reaching the ground below you. 

There was no way, was he really going to fuck you while you were upside, just like this ? You could feel the blood rushing to your head as you gasped and writhed around in his grip. You could hear some chuckling and something that sounded similar to a man’s moans that wasn’t Sanzu’s all around you, but you could really only look up and see everyone, and finally you got a good idea of where everyone was around you. 

The Haitanis were on either side of Sanzu, both looking down at your limp, hanging body as he fucked you like this. Ran was lazily stroking himself with his pants barely tugged off of his waist, while Rindou was still busy palming himself through his pants, clearly wanting to make himself wait as long as possible before he gave in and touched himself without anything in the way. 

Takeomi was a little ways away to your left, his dick in his hand as he watched you squirm around in the air like the slut he thought you were. 

Kakucho was a little ways away, his arms crossed as he watched the other Bonten guys touching you. Despite the expressionless look on his face, you know you saw a bulge in his pants that he had to be ignoring on purpose, and you wondered if he would even give himself a chance to indulge himself a little bit even if you asked him personally to join. 

You had no idea where Mikey was, or Mochizuki for that matter. You were pretty sure that the latter was probably out taking care of those bodies for Sanzu, or didn’t care enough to stay, he didn’t seem like the type to touch people like this. Maybe he had no idea this was even happening and would be pissed if he knew he missed out on… whatever this is. You didn’t know him well enough to really make any good decisions about him, or anyone for that matter. 

Kokonoi walked up to you, the look on his face unreadable as he got close enough for you to grab onto him, and you did, digging your nails into the expensive red fabric of his long shirt to try to pull yourself up even somewhat. His hands reached up and held your lower back, straightening you out just slightly so you were face to face with his crotch, and you realized exactly what he wanted you to do. 

“ Open, “ he demanded simply, letting you grab onto him as tight as you want to. You knew that he didn’t mind being your anchor as long as you did as he asked, and you were in no position to deny orders from him, not like this. 

He had his pants pulled down just enough for you that all you had to do was open your pretty mouth and let him slide himself in, and you found yourself almost eager to do so. You had known him for quite some time now, since before he let his hair grow out and bleached it. If there was anyone here that you could admit that you were secretly rather excited to touch, it would be Kokonoi. 

He’s not huge, which you were rather grateful for because you didn’t want to struggle to take him when you knew that you couldn’t really pull back. Kokonoi would be the one controlling how deep you took him and when you got a chance to breathe, like your body was no longer yours at this point. ‘

You were starting to believe that it wasn’t.

Willingly opening your mouth for him, he almost looks proud as he pushed his hips forward into your mouth, letting you taste him for the first time. His dick was leaky, precum coating your tongue almost immediately, the taste sweet and salty at the same time. He looked like he took good care of himself, body hair well kept and he smelled really, really good compared to the faint scent of blood and gunpowder that you’ve been smelling in the air this entire time. 

He pushed himself completely into your throat, the column of your neck bulging as you took his entire length, and you had to grab at his shirt tighter to keep yourself from writhing around. Kokonoi seemed to understand that you were struggling for just a moment, rocking his hips back and forth to let you get used to the new intrusion. 

It was hard to calm down your throat enough to properly take him with Sanzu still stuffing himself inside of your drenched cunt, like he didn’t care if you were struggling with someone else and certainly wasn’t going to stop himself because of it, and you couldn’t help but mewl and moan around Kokonoi’s cock, drool from your lips dripping down your face into your hairline. 

“ Fuck, just like that, “ Kokonoi whispered, his hands going down to grab you by your armpits to keep you up so you could free your hands up. With him holding onto your arms like he was, and Sanzu still having your legs on his shoulders, you were completely suspended in the air, the only thing holding you from falling being the mercy and pleasure of these men around you. 

Your arms were limp in the air below you for a moment until a tender hand came to grab yours, almost immediately guiding your hand to his cock so you could stroke it. 

“ Come on, little girl, “ Ran purred, his voice condescending as his hand tightened around yours for a moment, guiding your fist to stroke him the way he wanted you to. “ Stroke me just like that, make me cum just like that. You can do it. “ 

Rindou, of course, wasn’t far behind him, finally having worked himself up to a point that he couldn’t control himself any more and absolutely needed to feel your touch on his dick. 

He unzipped his pants and shrugged them down to his knees, grabbing your other hand and guiding you the same way that his older brother had. “ Nghh– fuck– “ he mumbled under his breath, trying to keep his cool as he felt your fingers wrap around his cock almost on your own. 

The two brothers hold your hands for a while, either one of them having their own preferred way of having you touch them. Ran preferred slower strokes, with your fingers tighter around him. He clearly enjoyed your hand on his dry cock, maybe the almost painful friction was something that he liked, although he did smear his precum around his tip and it very soon began to coat your hand in the thick seminal fluid. 

Rindou wanted it much faster, and honestly preferred to buck his hips up to meet your hand instead of waiting for you properly. He spit on his dick to make sure the glide was nice and smooth for him, but honestly with how leaky his dick was, it wasn’t even really needed. 

You had thought Kokonoi had a lot of precum, but no, Rindou continuously leaked all over your hand and his, his grip on your hand barely anything as he jerked his hips up to meet your hand with each little movement, like he was trying to fuck into your hand. 

Moans filled the entire warehouse as your entire body was being used, either your own or from several of the men. Surprising nobody, Ran was the most vocal, mumbling stuff under his breath about how good it probably felt to fuck your mouth or pussy if your hand felt this damn good. 

Rindou made a little noise in agreement, but at this point he was so worked up that he was too focused on reaching that high more than anything else, devolved into nothing more but little moans as you fisted his cock for him. 

“ You’re doing so good, “ Kokonoi praised quietly through little moans of pleasure, his hips rocking forward and back. Your nose was pressed against his balls, throat bulging almost painfully. 

You could barely breathe, and being upside down this entire time really didn’t help you find your breath, either. Praise really wasn’t something you were expecting in this situation, not with how cruel and mean these men have been to you this entire time, but Sanzu quickly squashed that, anyways. 

“ Good for nothin’ pocket pussy, “ he grunted out in between thrusts, his hands grabbing at your waist now that you weren’t half-way fighting against him holding your legs like he was. He squeezed your tummy tightly, feeling his fingers dig into the plushness of your body. “ Should’ve fucking known this is all she was good for. Runnin’ her fucking mouth to the wrong people for us and being a hole for the right ones. “ 

You didn’t want to admit that his words got to you, your body clenching up just slightly at how fucking mean he was, but it did anyways. You moaned helplessly against Kokonoi’s cock, earning yourself a little grunt of approval from him. 

“ Shit, she likes it, “ Ran muttered breathlessly, and you could feel his hand move from yours to trail down your body, fingers playing with your swollen and painfully ignored clit, making you gasp and whine in response. His hands really must love wandering, always on some part of you. First your sensitive tits, now your throbbing clit. “ She really is a masochist for– ah, fuck– for this shit, huh ? “ 

“ She’s gotta be, “ Kokonoi answered in total agreement, his grip on your arms almost painful. 

You hadn’t even realized that you were now fisting both of the brother’s cocks on your own now without their assistance, although your own movements were messy and uncoordinated compared to when you were being guided. It wasn’t exactly your fault, but it didn’t seem like either guy really minded at this point in time, something that you were secretly grateful for. 

Rindou didn’t say anything as he fucked himself into your hand, desperate for just a little more, his eyes screwed shut as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was honestly making rather cute little noises, small desperate moans slipping from his lips with every little touch from you. 

You were only vaguely aware of the other men in the room, of Kakucho and of Takeomi, until Takeomi slotted himself in between Ran and Sanzu on your side, dick pressed against your tit as he stroked himself close to you. 

You could feel your nipple getting wet from precum as he moaned out from his own hand, his low voice honestly taking you back for a second because you weren’t sure if you’d heard anything hotter than a man forgetting about where he was or who he was because of your body like that. 

You figured that he was sleazy enough to enjoy this kind of stuff, probably enjoying watching you get used like a cumrag way more than you wanted to know about. 

“ Shit, this bitch.. “ he groaned to himself, voice strained as his hand quickened its pace, needing just a little more before he reached his peak. You tried not to focus on it too much and instead keep your attention on the Haitanis and Kokonoi, and the incredible pleasure of Sanzu in between your legs like he was. 

“ Fuckin’ quickshot, “ Sanzu chuckled, gripping your hips a little harder. You were almost frustrated with Takeomi’s position, because now Ran had moved his hand away from your clit to make room for him, but Rindou quickly replaced that position for him, almost desperate to touch your cunt for the first time himself. 

Rubbing little circles against the sensitive little nub for you, his fingers were much faster and rushed than Ran’s, like he couldn’t wait to see you come undone on Sanzu’s cock, something you found was rapidly approaching whether you cared to admit it or not. 

At this point, you weren’t even sure how many times you could possibly cum on one dick, but something inside of you told you that you were about to figure it out today. It all felt so good, every part of your body and nerves standing on end with every little bit of contact, like you were a hair trigger away from losing it all. 

You couldn’t tell if you were cumming on his dick with damn near every thrust, or if it just felt that good to be touched and used like this, like you were something precious to all of them and like something they could throw away at a moment’s notice at the same time.

You couldn’t lie, not even to yourself, that you were enjoying this probably way, way too much. And that thought, somehow, scared you more than anything else today has. 

Were you really that fucked up ? Really that masochistic ? 

Feeling Sanzu so deep inside of your guts your belly bulged with the outline of his cock, and the painful stretch of your throat around Kokonoi’s, you knew the answer without having to say it.

Takeomi didn’t answer Sanzu’s taunts, instead he just let out a loud groan as he finally came, the thick ropes of cum painting over both of your tits as he released everything he’d been holding in all over you. 

“ Fuckin’ whore… Thinkin’ she’s some damn executive when all she’s good for is this, “ he hissed, speaking to you like you weren’t there, like you really weren’t anything but a set of holes to be used by these men in more powerful positions than you, more dangerous than you could honestly every hope to be. 

“ Yeah, yeah, but she’s so cute, “ Ran hummed in response, calling you cute for the hundredth time tonight, as Takeomi lingered, his hand coming up to play with your tits, smearing his own cum against your body. 

“ It was mikey’s decision to make her an executive, maybe he knew we needed some kind of stress relief toy. He couldn’t have picked a better one, shit. Your body really is perfect to be used like this, huh, doll ? Hm ? “ Ran asked, as if you could possibly answer him back, something he knew you couldn’t do with Kokonoi’s dick stuffed in your throat like it was. 

You let out a little whimper against Kokonoi’s cock as Sanzu hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, his dick throbbing with need from having you like this for so long. He was finally back to being quiet, his eyes narrowed as his fingers dug into your hips again, each thrust getting sloppier and more desperate than the last. 

It was clear that he was losing his composure, and quickly, and there wasn’t much you could do but pick a god and pray to whoever probably wasn’t listening to you anymore that he had the common decency to pull out.

Although, somewhere, a little inkling inside of you kind of hoped that he didn’t, but you squashed that part of you down before you could even fully realize the actual desire in your mind. Its not like you were going to act on it, you weren’t that stupid, but… that didn’t stop the idea from being there regardless. 

Rindou’s groans came from the back of his throat, his hips meeting your hand desperately as he reached that blissful ending too, 

“ Sh-shiiit, I’m gonna– all over your pretty tits, gonna– fuck– “ his words were almost incomprehensible as he moaned and whimpered on your side, body shaking as he finally gave up on holding off as long as he possibly could, not when he was so worked up like this. It felt too good, way too good, for him to be able to edge himself for any longer. 

“ Fuck, fuck– “ Rindou gasped out quietly, and you found yourself trying to focus on your hand a little more to be able to bring him to that peak he was searching so hard for as fast as possible. You could feel his breathing quicken, until he stuttered almost to a complete stop, hips barely rocking against your hand as you felt his cock desperately pulse and throb in your hand. 

The noises he let out were as close to heaven as you were pretty sure you were going to get tonight when he came, cum shooting out of his dick so hard it left Rindou momentarily dizzy and disorientated, only really able to squeeze his eyes shut and moan. 

You could feel it as his cum hit your chest and slightly further down your tummy, the second load on your tits only covering them even further. You had a little part of you that couldn’t help but think he was kind of cute like this, mouth panting little obscenities as he tried to calm himself down, hair stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead.

“ She’s so fucking good at this, even with her attention split, “ he groaned out, trying to catch his breath the best that he could moments after reaching his orgasm, “ Now that she’s an executive, we have to fuck her like this more often. Every Bonten meeting has to end like this, it just has to. “ 

Rindou let your hand drop from his dick, definitely far too sensitive to want you to keep going, but his fingers never stopped rubbing quick little circles around your swollen clit, wanting to see you come undone just like he had moments ago. 

Fuck, his fingers felt so good, especially in tandem with Sanzu’s thrusts into your sopping, desperate cunt.

“ Shit– she’s squeezing me real fuckin’ tight, just like that, “ Sanzu grunted out, his voice getting a little higher than it normally was. “ Can’t– fuck, can’t stop now, gotta fuck this bitch so good she learns her place. Nothin’ more than a damn hole for me to use. “

“ Fuck, yeah, but– damn, you’re making it hard to hold back, huh, little lady ? “ Ran teased, as you tensed up a little as you felt takeomi’s fingers tease your nipples, pulling at them slightly, flicking one of them with his fingers. He seemed mesmerized with your pretty tits, especially with them coated in cum like they were. 

Kokonoi’s grip on your arms tightened a little, pressing his body against your mouth and forcing you to deepthroat him, your airways completely covered or plugged up. 

You immediately started to kick one of your legs, hitting Sanzu’s shoulder repeatedly. You could feel the pressure in your chest build, the panic rising in you as your body started to fight back against not being able to breathe. Your throat clenched around him, drawing out an almost melodic moan from him. Even while you were struggling, he was still trying to draw as much pleasure from your body as he possibly could.

“ Shit, let her breathe so she stops kickin’ me like this, damn, “ Sanzu snapped at Kokonoi, which he only chuckled at before pulling back just slightly, enough for you to catch your breath without his cock in the way. 

“ I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it. Her throat just bulges so nicely around my cock and she sounds so pretty when she gags like that, “ Kokonoi reasoned as you choked and coughed, trying to catch your breath the best that you could. 

It was the first time that you really had to come face to face with the very real reality that even if Kokonoi acts kinder than everyone else here, he most certainly was not actually kind, and was in this for his own pleasure as much as the Haitanis and Sanzu were.

Somehow, you weren’t as surprised by that revelation, and once your breath was caught, you opened your mouth willingly for Kokonoi to take your throat once again, tongue flat and waiting for him, and he did so immediately without hesitation on his part. Even with tears in your eyes and a mix of drool and precum all over your face, you were still so damn eager for him, something that he found oddly charming in its own way, and so attractive at the same time. 

“ I trained this throat so good, hm ? “ Kokonoi teased, although there really wasn’t any bite to his words anymore, not with the way you were so obediently sucking him off like that, your throat bruised but still desperate for more from him. 

“ God, fuck– “ Ran’s voice cut through to your attention, and he grabbed your hand again, back to guiding your hand as you stroked him off. 

“ Stop stealing all her attention, dammit. She can’t focus on me with you talking to her like that. “ His free hand smacked your ass harshly, grabbing at the fat of it, causing you to moan out against Kokonoi’s cock. The harsh impact almost made you want to sob, tears that were already streaming down your face threatening to come out harder. 

“ I’m almost there, just keep fuckin’ going, “ you could tell from the venom in Ran’s words that he was mad at you for unintentionally edging him, forgetting about your hand and focusing your attention on throating Kokonoi. 

Lucky for you, you didn’t need to focus any of your attention on Sanzu, he was perfectly content with using your body like a fuck toy and nothing else, but if you stopped paying attention to your mouth, you’d start to gag and choke around Kokonoi again. 

Ran alternated his hands really quickly, still guiding your hand on fisting his dick as if he didn’t trust you to forget about him this time. Now with his other hand freed up, it found your throat, squeezing at it, pressing against where your throat was bulging with Kokonoi’s cock. 

“ If you wanna focus on sucking dick so much, let me help you, little lady, “ he hissed, grip tightening slightly against your already bulging throat. You gagged, your body’s natural reflex wanting to kick in again, but you did your best to try to calm yourself down. 

“ Its okay, “ Kokonoi soothed you after letting out a small chuckle, watching how you struggled to take him with Ran’s hand tightly around your throat. “ You’re okay. You can take it, yeah ? Just a little more like this, just for a bit. He’s close, just gotta keep going until he’s done, okay ? Can you do that for him ? For me ? “ 

Its not like you could possibly say no, but still somehow his words did manage to soothe a part of you, even just a little bit. Although you could barely breathe, and the pressure around your throat was making your already dizzy head get even more light, you tried to find a medium in between all of this. 

Just a little more, just like that, exactly like Kokonoi said. 

You choked again, your entire chest heaving slightly as you tried to calm yourself down, legs shaking on Sanzu’s shoulders. “ She’s so fucking tight when she’s getting choked out like a slut, “ Sanzu hissed out loudly, “ Keep going like this and you’ll have all of us cumming with her, dammit. “ 

“ You get off on getting choked, yeah ? Not being able to breathe ? “ Ran asked rhetorically, his hand that was guiding yours speeding up. He didn’t move his hips to meet your hand like his younger brother did, but he was definitely biting back some noises, body tensing up underneath your touch more and more every moment. “ I can feel your throat all tight and bulging, shit. Gonna cum, gonna cum, pretty girl. Just fuckin’ like that. Don’t pass out on us, not yet. “

Ran’s grip on your hand tightened as he fucked himself with your hand, his patience running completely empty at this point. He was feeling so good that he didn’t have it in him to drag this out any longer, although every part of him normally would want to. Something about the way you were writhing underneath him, letting him use your hand for his own pleasure to the point you didn’t even fight back as he took your hand for himself, spurred him on more than he cared to admit out loud. 

Shit, you really were so cute to him, someone he definitely could see himself fucking again and again just like this. If he could somehow convince Sanzu to give up his spot in between your thighs like that, he’d make sure that your cunt remembered the shape of his cock. 

He threw his head back as he let out a low, quiet groan, finally shooting his cum all over your pretty tits. You felt yourself hiccup, trying not to heave again against Kokonoi as Ran finished, dragging the tip of his cock against one of your tits to get every last little drop on your perfect body. 

Finally, after a few moments of him basking in the moment, he let go of your throat and your hand, his breath coming out in ragged little gasps as he looked over your body, painted with the cum of three men including himself. Rindou and Takeomi were right, every meeting had to end like this. 

The world around you came back from going completely black as soon as his hand let go of your throat, able to suck in just enough air from your nose to keep yourself going for right now, even though it was difficult to breathe. 

He wasn’t the only one who was thinking the same thing, not by a long shot. Kokonoi was finally starting to lose his composure after staying so in control for the majority of the time, his chest rising and falling as he started to fuck your throat a little rougher than he previously was, the rocking of his hips that had been a slow, lazy pace getting faster and faster.

“ Can’t… Can’t hold it back anymore, “ he groaned, hips stuttering as he used your mouth, his balls slapping against your face with each movement. “ You’re so good, so fuckin’ good at sucking cock. I knew you were good with your mouth but damn.. “ Kokonoi’s breath hitched in his throat, clearly unable to keep going for much longer either. 

Your throat was so sore and bruised, your jaw hurt so badly a part of your mind was worried that it might be broken or bruised even though realistically you knew that wasn’t the case. You’d gagged so much that your tummy was in painful knots, the intrusion of his cock in your throat still causing your body to want to reject it, but it couldn’t do that right now. 

“ I’m gonna cum, “ Kokonoi announced, one of his fingers tapping underneath your arm just a little bit as he tried to warn you for it, like he knew that you were just on the edge of it being too much for you and needing a break. Despite knowing that you were right there at that edge, he had no intention of pulling out and cumming on your body, instead deciding that he had to cum in your throat and make you swallow it to the best of your ability. 

“ I’m gonna cum, okay ? You can swallow it for me like a good girl, yeah ? You’ve done so well so far, I know you can swallow it. “ 

You knew you were helpless in this, you could feel that hopelessness permeating all through your body that there was nothing you could possibly do but take it and swallow it all. 

Your eyes rolled back, body threatening unconsciousness. Despite the treatment of your body like an object, your poor cunt was soaked, Sanzu’s cock sliding in and out so easily as Kokonoi fucked your throat ruthlessly, holding nothing back anymore. 

A loud groan escaped his plump lips as he finally let go, his cock twitching and throbbing as ropes of hot cum filled your mouth. You wanted to swallow it all as you gulped a few times, you really did, but your body was screaming at you that you were either going to spit it out or you were going to pass out. 

It was a mix of not being able to breathe, being suspended in the air upside down, and being pushed past your breaking point that made the world around you threaten to go dark, fat tears streaming down to your hairline. 

Kokonoi pulled out of your mouth just moments before you collapsed completely on him, and you picked your head up, coughing up the remaining cum that you couldn’t manage to swallow on your chest. 

He almost looked apologetic for a moment, like he almost felt bad for fucking you past your breaking point like that, but he didn’t say anything about it, and the look was gone from his face relatively quickly when he realized that you were as fine as you could be in this situation, just a little lightheaded. 

“ We’ll work on you swallowing it all, okay ? “ Kokonoi promised with a sly little smile on his face, still holding you up for Sanzu, picking you up just a little bit so your back could rest on his chest. 

He was doing his best to soothe you while your body was still being used, trying to bring you back down from that experience of almost losing yourself there, but there really wasn’t much he could do other than hold onto you. 

You were really barely coherent, just sort of nodding along to whatever he was saying, your mind empty from most thoughts, eyes unfocused as you watched Sanzu pushed himself deep into your cunt like he had been for the last half hour now. 

“ You just be a good girl and take it for him. we’ll discuss your performance afterwards, “ Kokonoi pressed a small little kiss on your temple, the action itself painfully domestic and kind, and normally you would’ve found yourself blushing a little bit at the act.

“ Shit, you have no idea how good she feels, “ Sanzu’s hands held your hips, strokes longer and more erratic. It was impossible to think like this, impossible to have a single coherent thought with how fucked out you were, your entire chest covered in cum now, including the tattoo which had luckily been bandaged up by Sanzu before this all started. 

And still, despite being so fucked out, your poor hole completely abused and throbbing in both pleasure and pain, Sanzu kept going even through your haze, needing to reach his own high, and you were desperately crying out for him, your first words since you finally got your voice back pathetic little pleas for him. 

“ Pl-please, “ you whimpered, hiccuping a little bit, your voice high and slightly scratchy from how bruised your throat was, “ Please, Sanzu, please. “ 

“ Don’t even know what you– ah, fu-fuck, what you’re asking for anymore, do you ? “ he sneered in your face, barely looking up from where your cunt was being stretched out around his cock and drooling for him to look at your face. “ Gonna ask me to stop or keep going ? You want me to fuck you senseless, even more dumb than you already are, yeah ? Look at you, so fuckin’ pathetic. “ 

“ So fucking cute, “ he groaned out immediately after, biting his bottom lip as his hips met yours. He barely pulled out before pushing himself back inside your warm, gooey cunt, his eyes practically rolling back at the feeling of your body clenching around him so tightly, like you never wanted to let him go. “ So, so fuckin’ cute, stuffed with my cock just like this. “ 

Sanzu had been talkative this entire time, sure, but he was never talkative like this, to the point where he couldn’t shut up enough to catch his own breath, his voice ragged and broken, punctuated with moans and grunts from him. It was like he wasn’t going to be able to stop now that he had started, fucking into you like a man possessed, like he’d never had pussy as good as yours before. 

“ Maybe takeomi’s bullshit was right, maybe you were made for just this. No fuckin’ thinkin’, no workin’, just being a good, tight hole for me. All f’me. Shit, shit. “ 

“ Sa- Sanzu– Si- Sir– “ you sobbed out through quiet, mindless little moans, leaning your head against Kokonoi’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of whatever expensive cologne and body wash he usually used. 

The pleasure in your lower tummy was too much, the only thing that you could feel in your otherwise numb and yet too sensitive body. You couldn’t tell how many orgasms you had throughout this entire time, your brain to fuzzy to make sense of anything other than Sanzu’s body and Kokonoi’s presence. “ Pl-please– “ 

“ Gonna give you what you want, “ he snapped, glancing down at you, his eyes narrowed, his mouth opened to let out little groans, his eyebrows creased in his concentration on fucking you so good you forget everything except his name and your place underneath him as a cumdump. 

“ You want my cum, yeah ? Body already covered in it and you’re still so fuckin’ greedy. Maybe I should cum inside, just for a change. Have you completely covered and filled, inside and out. Shit, with the way your cunt’s squeezin’ me, I might actually– “ 

He couldn’t finish his taunts, pulling out of you quickly right before his cock twitched against the fat of your pussy, cum shooting from his painfully red dick across your body from your navel to the base of your chin. 

His grip on your waist loosened like he’d lost every muscle in his body, letting out a little groan as he finally reached that point. “ So fuckin’ good, best pussy I’ve had, takin’ me like a goddamn pro or some shit like that. “ 

You glanced down at your own body, mind sort of working down from your high as you saw just how covered you were in cum. There wasn’t a part of you that they had missed, with your tits and chest getting the majority of it all. Finally, they were finally done, and you could breathe… 

You laid your head back against Kokonoi’s shoulder and closed your eyes, exhaustion wanting to take over your body, but you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that you couldn’t go to sleep just yet, there was more you had to do right now. 

Kokonoi brought you over to that metal chair you had mostly forgotten about, sitting you down in it. Your body slumped over it, head lolled back as you tried to catch your breath. 

“ Mikey, she’s done, “ Kokonoi called out finally, voice not directed at you anymore and far colder than you’d heard him talk previously. 

He pulled away from your body, falling in line with the other executives as Mikey stood up from where he was sitting facing towards the exit, walking over to you. 

You were only vaguely aware of each one of his footsteps, even though they echoed off of the walls like everything else had. You were only sort of aware of everything, like the entire world was spinning and blurry around you, and you couldn’t focus on a single thing. You were pretty sure you were swaying, your head leaning heavily to once side, your mouth still hanging open as you panted for some air.

There was a long, drawn out silence as Mikey stared at your fucked out body, his expression unreadable, although you weren’t looking anymore. Your eyes were closed, and you were trying to bring yourself back down from everything that had happened, but you were in the clouds, and coming down was a lot easier said than done. 

There was something in the look in his eyes, like seeing you like this unlocked something darker inside of him, scratching at a more taboo itch than he was used to dealing with. 

He looked at the tattoo, the clear bandage on top of it covered with cum, spit, and sweat now, his expression unreadable. For a second, you might even accidentally think you see a hint of light in his eyes, but it's just the way the fluorescent lights of the warehouse reflected in his abyss.

You heard him ask something, something about whether or not you would like working as an executive. Something probably about your new position that you had been given, but you couldn’t make out the words, nodding along no matter what he had actually said. 

Your body and your brain were disconnected, leaving you somewhere in between the two states of absolute oblivion and being conscious and aware of your surroundings. 

“ Go at her again if you want, “ Mikey said finally, turning away from you after a moment of staring. “ She’ll be fine. “ 

The permission was so simple, but it only took a few moments before a pair of hands found your tits, eliciting a pitifully quiet little whine of pleasure from your lips as whoever it was pulled at your nipples and smearing the cum all over your chest a little more. you blinked your eyes open for just a moment, barely there anymore as you saw the gazes staring back at you, ready to make use of your body one more time for the night. 

Away from you, Kakucho’s ever watchful gaze stared at you, keeping his eyes on how you responded to each of the touches, even though you were somewhere far away right now. He clenched his hands to his side, internally fighting a war with himself on whether or not he wanted to join or not. It’d been way, way too long since he last got his dick wet.

Was this really your life now ? You took that step into this warehouse, and now you could never go back to where you had been before. You were an executive of Bonten, the tattoo on your skin a permanent reminder of exactly who you were, of exactly all you would ever be in this life. 

You were good at listening to orders. one of the best, in fact. It was more than just rare for you to mess up a direct order given to you by one of the executives that surrounded you, and that made you the perfect pawn. You could be molded into anything they needed at the time, the perfect canvas for white to cover your body. 

Innocent wasn't exactly the word, it was more like naive, and belligerently hopeful, even when you faced the worst. It was like you couldn't really see the world around you, not completely anyways.

Orders were orders, something that you were more aware of than the average person around you. If you were given an order, you did it without question. 

The tight black collar around your neck was the perfect little symbol for your status as one of the best. You didn’t have the key to it, and you weren’t entirely sure which one of them did, either. Although if you had to guess, your money was on Mikey or Sanzu. But its not like you really wanted to have the key either, not really. 

You walked down the street, the night air cold but not uncomfortable, and the sky was clear tonight, gun strapped to your thigh and not even attempted to be concealed. 

Your orders were simple today, and a part of you was pretty sure you wouldn’t even need to use your gun, not like you ever have. You’d had to pull it out a couple of times, sure, but you’d never had the need to pull out your gun before and take someone’s lives. 

That didn’t mean you didn’t have blood on your hands. You sent people to the executioner’s block several times over, like you were probably going to do today. 

Some stupid old man was causing trouble at one of the clubs the Haitani brothers owned, and you had reason to suspect that he was faking his connection with Bonten to get into a club meant for members only. 

How he was doing that, you didn’t know, because you were at least sort of aware of anyone and everyone within the upper ranks, often combing through their names and identities to sniff out people when needed. 

You didn’t have to show any proof of your identity at the door, the people there already knew not to ask questions your way, anyways. You pushed yourself through the door and into the loud club, the music so loud that it made your eardrums vibrate painfully in your ears. 

As usual, it was packed, with some people whispering in secrecy about whatever deal they were trying to make, others trying to get an easy lay from some of the girls there, and a few people there to drown out the horrors that came with the job with alcohol. 

Sure enough, at the bar, there was a sleazy old man leaning against the counter, leering at some lady, and you couldn’t recognize him. Whether or not that was the right guy, it was a start. 

Now all you really had to do was strike up a conversation, although that wasn’t something that you found yourself eager to do. Entertaining men like that usually meant that you had to act a certain way to get any good information out of him. 

Your heels hit the floor with each step you took as you made your way to the bar with a small, deceiving little smile on your face. You wrapped an arm around the girl like you knew her personally, “ Hi ! Sorin, it’s so good to see you again ! I missed you so much since you were away with your kids for the weekend. How are you ? “ 

The woman’s eyes widened immediately, a reaction you expected from her, considering you weren’t supposed to actually know who she was, but it came with the job. “ How– how did you..? “ 

“ How did I spot you in the crowd ? Silly, your hair is so pretty, I could spot it from a mile away, “ you responded quickly before she could stutter out her actual question, effectively shutting her up before she could give you away. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to play like this, and it wouldn’t be the last, but there was something slightly entertaining about being able to read normal people so easily, like you could see right through them. 

And in a way, you could. 

You glanced at the man, finally bringing your attention back to him now that Sorin was finally satiated for a moment, “ Who’s the guy, Sorin ? He’s kind of handsome, in a… unique sort of way, you know ? “ 

“ Shikichi Aoyama, at your service, “ he introduced himself, flashing you a mildly disgusting grin, clearly not taking very good care of himself. If the entire club hadn’t smelled like sex and alcohol and masked most other scents, you were sure his breath reeked.

“ Shikichi Aoyama… What a handsome name, “ you hummed as you pulled away from Sorin to let her gather her things and leave. 

You looked him up and down, wondering if he knew that you were aware that he lied directly to you. Shikichi was dead, you sent him to Sanzu personally last week for trying to siphon money from Bonten’s pockets into his own, you were sure about that. After all, you had been there to witness it go down. 

So if Shikichi was dead, but this guy was claiming he was him, who was the guy in front of you ? Looks like you did find the guy on your first try after all, something that you were silently glad about because if you had to talk to this guy for no reason, you were going to be grouchy about it for a little while. 

“ What are you doing here tonight ? Looking for a drink ? “ 

You hummed, pretending to think for a second before nodding, “ Yeah, I could use a drink or two tonight. It’s been a long night so far, and I have an even longer night ahead of me after I leave the club. “ 

You weren’t lying, not this time. You had a sneaking suspicion about what kind of night it was going to be, and you were sure you weren’t going to be getting too much sleep. After all, you had a meeting to go to pretty soon.

“ Aw, you poor thing, “ he turned away from you, flagging down a bartender to order some drinks for the two of you. While he looked away, you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, only to spot two figures approaching from the corner of your eyes, and you mentally sighed with relief. 

“ Hey, little lady, “ one of the voices called, his tone dripping with false saccharine sweetness as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, something that you didn’t fight back. 

“ This the guy ? “ the other guy asked, glancing from you to the man in front of you, who was now trying to piece together what had happened in his head, still not recognizing the two men by your side just yet. i

It was something you found almost comical, because you knew what was going to happen next. This never failed to be a fun little watch, especially when you were expected to finish this up relatively quickly so you could make it to the warehouse on time.

“ Who the fuck are you two ? “ 

Ah, well, maybe you and the three of you would just have to be late for the meeting today, but it wasn’t going to be a big deal. 

You reached out and grabbed the drink that the bartender handed out, shooting it back as you settled into the bar stool that Sorin had been sitting on previously. 

Whatever drink this was, it tasted like ass, mixed with the cheapest vodka the club sold and probably club soda if you had to make your best guess, and you found yourself annoyed that this guy thought he really could woo you with whatever shit concoction this was. 

“ Damn, looks like you pissed her off, huh ? “ Rindou laughed a little as you made a face at the drink, sitting it down on the marble bartop. “ If you’re gonna buy a girl a drink, you have to at least make sure you know what she likes. And her tastes are a little more expensive than whatever you just gave her. “ 

Ran took one look at you and flagged down the bartender again. He didn’t need to say anything else or order, his go-to drink was already typically memorized by most of the bartenders, just like your identities. It was his bar, after all, so he could be a little difficult with their rules if he wanted to be. 

“ I said, who the fuck are you ? “ The guy asked, standing up from his spot at the bar, clearly ready to start an altercation, one that he probably wasn’t ready to finish. “ Don’t start giving me advice on girls, you don’t know shit. “

“ Mm, and you do ? “ Rindou’s voice was a sneer, laughing at him and just making the situation heat up even more. 

You wondered briefly if he was ever going to notice the gun strapped to your thigh, or Ran’s, or Rindou’s. All three of you were ready to go at a moment, although you would admittedly be a little slower pulling the trigger than the other two, something you weren’t afraid to admit. 

Kakucho was right, you were better as an informant than with the gun, but that didn’t stop you from having one if you needed it anyways. 

“ I know more than you. “ 

You couldn’t help but scoff a little at his words, wondering if he realized how idiotic he sounded, or if the alcohol was making him think that he was the coolest person in the entire club tonight. 

It was almost really, really funny how easily either one of the Haitani brothers could rile someone up if given the opportunity to have some fun with someone, and you couldn’t help but almost admire how they moved through life with such charisma that they practically dripped it. Nothing could phase them, nothing at all, it seemed. 

Other than a kiss from you, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. You knew that, you just simply didn’t say anything about it. Some things were better as a secret than they were spoken out loud, and you were pretty damn good at keeping secrets for people, especially your fellow executives. 

“ Yeah ? You know shit about girls ? “ Ran hummed, leaning forward to look at the man, getting right up into his face to look directly at him. “ You know anything at all ? You sure ? I don’t really believe you. Sorry, man. “ 

You almost snorted out in laughter, instead focusing your attention on thanking the bartender for the drinks that he had made for you. You passed one to Ran, and one to Rindou, keeping the other one for yourself and taking a sip of it through the tiny little straws. It was fruity, with more cherry grenadine than anything else. 

Ran turned to you, taking a sip out of his own drink and giving you a smile, “ Like it, pretty girl ? “ 

“ Yeah, thanks, “ you nodded, sipping on your little drink as you looked up between the two Haitanis and the man, “ You’re the best, ran. “ 

“ …Ran ? “ The man repeated, eyebrows creasing together as he tried to figure out how in the world that name was so familiar. 

But before he could use all of his brain to figure it out, a gunshot rang out and his head hit the table, body slumping to the ground. The club was only shocked for a few minutes, more stunned at the noise of the gunshot than the actual shot itself, most people turning to look at the assailant behind you. 

“ You’re late, “ Sanzu hissed out simply, crossing his arms as he made his way towards the three of you. “ Was that the guy or did you just make me kill some other asshole ? “ 

You’d think you’d be used to Sanzu’s temper by now, but you weren’t, not by a long shot. Still, you nodded once again, knowing that your time in the club was almost coming to a close, “ Yeah, that was the guy, you got him. “

Standing up, you stretched, taking the glass with you as you looked over at the three of them. Sanzu was in a bad mood, and the Haitanis were clearly in playful, teasing ones. Tonight really would be a long night, and the thought made you mentally sigh out a little bit, although a much larger part of you couldn’t hide the excitement about what was to come. 

Sanzu’s hand reached out, finger finding the metal loop of the black collar, pulling you towards him. You let out a little noise at the sudden act, shoulders stiffening slightly out of reflex. “ Let’s fucking go then, we don’t have time to wait all day. if Mikey gets mad it’s on you. “ 

“ Chill, we solved the mission she came here to do, Mikey won’t get mad. The person we should really be worried about is Koko, “ Rindou pointed out, but he followed behind you anyways. there was a hand on your lower back, and another one on your shoulder, and both were already beginning to roam your body, despite not even being outside of the club yet. 

Yeah, this was going to be a long night, but you found yourself almost skipping along behind Sanzu, following his guiding hand straight into hell. 

taglist ﾉ @qichun ( i adore you jasper thanks for being here through,,, everything actually ) @haitani-maki @little-ari-bear @leave-rae-alone @rockinrob1n @n4muqr @kodzuken95 @dramallama2d @tenjikusstuff4 @lywji7 @i04mnji @thisismarisaaa @honeygonebads-blog @hyperiondickrider @oococ01 @rustedrampage @jellybelly-may @mccookiemonster @cvpid-xo @dizzydesi23 @sleeplessreader @wakashudou ( togame liker spotted <33 ) @mouse-0w0 @hayleighloatx @akkkeiji @lyssie02 @edellly @moshimoshimoo-blog1

[makkiroll]

passed my semester in China. gonna draw

[baby-tini]

𝓖𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓸

Manjiro Sano- It would be really hard too get the tattoo, muchless surprise him with it. Especially when you're always, either with him or under constant surveillance and one of those people that have eyes on you 24/7 is Sanzu, Mikeys loyal dog. So, there's no way, you're going anywhere and Sanzu or at least one of his executives not know about it. But, if you do manage too slip away unnoticed, you have very little time too get that tattoo, before Mikey tears all of Japan apart looking for you. It'd be best too get the tattoo somewhere it's not's not immediately noticeable, like on the back of your neck, like Mikey has, or in between your breasts. When you do decide too show Mikey though, he'd stare at you for a few seconds, then look at the tattoo and repeat, doing that for a good couple minutes before grabbing you and bending you over the nearest surface and fucking you, keeping his eyes looked on the tattoo as he cums in you. You now belong to Manjiro Sano for life, you can never leave him, the proof is forever inked on your body. Sanzu Haruchiyo- He was actually the one too propose the idea of you getting the tattoo, stating that your love for him should be evidential, should be permanent. There's no going alone or in secret, he's with you constantly and if he can't be, he has cameras and eyes on you constantly, maybe even a little tracking device implant in your neck, but you'll never know that. He'd want you too get the tattoo either on your inner thigh or on your lower back, right above you ass. He'd be the one too find the tattoo artist, which, will 100% be a woman, he refuses too let a man see you like that, muchless touch you, he doesn't care if it's strictly professional, it's not happening, he might even do the tattoo himself honestly. After you get that tattoo, he expects that place too be exposed constantly, if it's on your lower back, you better become very familiar with low-rise pants or if it's on your inner thigh, you're wearing short skirts or shorts forever. He dares someone too look at you, he doesn't mind ruining his clean suit for you, his little angel. Kakucho Hitto- He, in all honestly, would not like it, at all. He doesn't want you involved in any of his work, in anyway. He doesn't even like that the other executives know about you. He knows what having that tattoo means, he signed up for that, but you? You're his perfect little angel, his sweet girl, you don't belong anywhere near a gun or have your ears tainted with the stories of what he's done, especially if you've seen something, you're too good for the life he leads, he wants you away from it as much as possible. So, for you too get that inked on your body, it terrifies him. You can immediately tell how he feels when you show him because his eyes go empty, like he just lost something of great importance. He pleaded with you for minutes too stop joking, please tell him you didn't, please tell him it's fake. When you shake your head no, to all of his worried questions, his voice breaks as he drags you into the bathroom, attempting too rub it off with a rag 'till your skin is raw. Takeomi Akashi- Doesn't keep as much surveillance on you as the others, so it'd be relatively easy too surprise him with the tattoo. Doesn't really care if you get it or not but he would think it's sexy too see it on you in any scenario, sex, housework, cooking, doesn't matter he's staring at it with a smirk. Would want you too get it someone very noticeable, like your chest or on your shoulder, it's easy too just slide your shirt down and stare at it, running his thumb over it as he leaves kisses along the outline of the ink. Likes that you'll forever have proof that you belong to him, it's a warning for everyone too stay the fuck away from you, I will say however, the tattoo and the area around it, are constantly covered in hickies, so much so, that sometimes you can barley see the tattoo.

Ran Haitani- Also another one too propose the idea, jokingly at first, but he grows very excited, in more ways then one, when you agree to the idea. He takes you too get it done, telling you where you should get it, which place would look best. He'd want you too get it on the front of your neck or just under your tits. Doesn't matter where you get it though because that's automatically his new favorite place too cum. He'd always have you in positions where he can see the tattoo, it genuinely makes him cum quicker. With the permanency that you belong to him, gets him hard in seconds, the following week after you get the tattoo, he's constantly having sex with you. Fucking you anywhere and everywhere he can get you, he doesn't care who's around, if he can get a quickie in while he stares at the tattoo, he absolutely will, shamelessly at that. Rindou Haitani- He wouldn't mind if you got the tattoo, wouldn't verbally tell you too get it but he wouldn't be mad if you did it. Especially if you got the tattoo on the front of your neck, like his, but because his brother also has the tattoo, he'd want you too get his name under the tattoo. He wouldn't mind if you just ditched the tattoo idea and just got his name. Thinks it'd be sexy if you got on your hip, especially while you were wearing low-rise shorts, he's have his hands on your hips more then usual, and that's saying something. Where ever you get it though, much like his brother, whenever he sees it, he gets hard rather quickly, eagerly pulling you with him towards a barley private room so he can jerk his dick while eyeing your tattoo. He, and Ran, are also big braggers and would be so cocky about, how much you love him. Kokonoi Hajime- Thinks it's cute that you wanna get the tattoo and play gangster, he knew you wanted too get it when he caught you, multiple times, eyeing his own tattoo. He also has complete access to your search history and call log, so when he found you calling multiple tattoo shops, he knew. He'd let you get the tattoo but he'd want it too be non-permanent, drawing it on you with marker but if you wanted a more.. permanent end-game, he'd take you too get it. He has more then enough money too get it lasered off for you. He'd want you too get it somewhere that it could be easily covered with clothes. Like your thigh or high up on your arm, stating that he didn't need other people too know, he is the only one allowed too see it. He does buy you the best creams and lotions, helping you take care of the tattoo, making sure it doesn't get infected. Kanji Mochizuki- Also another that wouldn't want you too get it, but he's not as reluctant as Kakucho, simply because he sees it in a different light. What Kakucho sees as a magnet for danger, Mochi sees it as a warning to others that you are not meant too be messed with. Would take you too get the tattoo but he'd need some convincing, valid convincing. He'd want you too get it under your collar bone or on your rib cage, somewhere it can be covered but easily accessible to him and for him, only for him. He's got a few pictures of you in his phone, in very compromising positions, with the tattoo being on full display, that's what he uses too get off too when he's away.

[sweetmilkprince]

I've had these done for a year now. I just keep forgetting to post them. They are available as stickers in my shop.

[atarathegreat]

No Nut November Part4

Ft: Kokonoi Hajime, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Izana Kurokawa, Hanma Shuji.

Koko wasn't one to join in on the silly games, preferring to stay on his own tasks and goals. Something about the way you joked with Inui about some stupid month and challenge set him off. You knew better than to flash that pretty smile at anyone who wasn't Koko. So, he decided that he got to cum, ramming his cock as deep as it would go to chase his release while denying yours. "Next time you'll think about freely handing out that smile, hmm?" Kokonoi wiped at the sticky essence he left behind, "Remember who that smile is meant for, darling."

The headboard had been slamming against the wall for hours and your voice had become nothing but a jumbled mess of nonsense that was so quiet Sanzu couldn't hear it. Hearing you was the least of his worries. You had earned orgasm after orgasm, but Sanzu refused to cum, but he battled with wanting to feel your insides. The whole month, you'd been warned, would be spent like this: with Sanzu edging himself every hour and bringing you to absolute brain rot. He'd cum on the first and, gods, he didn't care if you got pregnant.

Since when did girls take part of no nut November? Izana didn't really care as he lazily guided your hips over him. "Iza, I can't..." Normally your whining was annoying to him, but this was cuter than anything. Seeing you try to keep yourself together for the sake of some stupid bet with your friends, while it was a pain for the last week, Izana understood you. doesn't mean he cared. "You know what I want, baby. Let me have it." Izana cooed, reaching down to pinch your clit, "Let me have everything."

During sex, Hanma often sent pictures to Kisaki (that man has been pining for Little Hina since elementary there is no way he has had sex with anyone). His excuse to you was that Kisaki needed a push to get laid, while he would simultaneously be sending a text that said check this out, loser, got her whining my name. He used the excuse of needing to send Kisaki pictures to get balls deep. NNN aside, this man never knows what month it is.

[candyeager]

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

— sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader

PART TWO 10.1k words

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing. A nobody.

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

You're nothing now.

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

Mikey doesn't want you anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a fucking downgrade. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wants him to be right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that terrifies you.

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

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

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

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

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

His touch, his heat.

Then, without warning, he steps back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until Sanzu forced that pill down your throat. 

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

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

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

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

"You're awake."

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

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

It's just you and Mikey now.

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

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

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

"He won't touch you again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fine? You're far from fine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And us?" 

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

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

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

But it has. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What he's done to Sanzu.

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

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

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

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

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

It's over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's no longer yours.

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

But even his sharp words don't reach you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that Mikey? That Mikey is long gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart twists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He actually wants your company.

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

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

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

"Fine. Give me that, Sanzu."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But fate never lets you escape that easily.

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

Mikey.

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

He's moving on.

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

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

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

Sanzu.

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

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

You turn and run.

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

Like hell you will. 

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

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

This is personal.

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

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

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

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

Or so you think.

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

You should have known better.

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

And neither of you are sane enough to stop now.

< part two ends >

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

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

© CANDYEAGER. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any other platforms.

[doudouo]

wip (or not 😭)

never imagined myself actually drawing bonten ran

[mdsbabygirl]

“IF HE CHEATING I'M DOING HIM WORSE”

🌶️SMUT⚠️MDNI🔞

Pairing: Sanzu Haruchiyo x  fem!reader x Haitani brothers

Synopsis: when your bf sanzu Haruchiyo cheats on you w another bitch, you decide to get back at him by fucking his co-mobsters.. cuz you don't care, he did it first...

Wc: 3,5k

Cw: cheater¡Bonten!Sanzu, cheater!reader, Bonten!Ran, Bonten!Rindou, sanzu was your bf, Sanzu is a bitch NGL, reader is a bit bitchy and vengeful, the bros are overly flirty perverted assholes, vulgar language, heavy smut, threesome, double penetration, nipple play, clit play, BJs, sex tape, a bit of exhibitionism, facials, creampie, slight degradation (slut, whore), uses of pet names(doll, princess..), etc.

Lil note: so sorry for the sanzu stans, I luv my Haru as much as y'all do but I had to .. I HAD TO MAKE HIM A BITCH LOL

"Oh fuck you're so tight -" he moaned In the dead of night, as he thrusted inside you with a fierce, wild passion. The room was engulfed in lust-filled darkness, the only light coming from the flickering streetlights outside.

"Mm, more, Haru... Don't stop," you moaned, as his relentless pursuit of his own high carried both of you towards your imminent climax. His face was a picture of pure desire, his  eyebrows scrunched and mouth open agape as he gasped for air. His strong, muscular arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he continued to pound into you with an insatiable hunger.

But as he chased his high, something inside you started to feel off. Your pleasure, once all-consuming, now seemed distant and muted, leaving you wanting, unsatisfied, even a bit drained.

A bead of sweat dripped down Haruchiyo's temple as he grunted, a deep groan rumbling in his chest. The intensity of his thrusts was growing, and in a flash, he came inside you. Wave after wave of hot, sticky release coated the insides of your cunt, and you could only watch, a mixture of pleasure and unease curling in the pit of your stomach.

Moments later, you followed, your orgasm finally reaching the surface. But instead of the heady, satisfying bliss you'd grown accustomed to, the climax felt like a hollow echo.

As you came down from your high, you couldn't help but question the change in your passion. You'd been together for months, but tonight, the fire in you seemed to have dimmed.

He slowly pulled out, letting his tired body fall beside you, his chest heaving up and down with each breath he was taking. He didn't even look at you, he just turned to his side and quickly fell asleep..

That was surely weird asf.. he'd usually snuggle against you, cuddle you and tell you how amazing you were and how happy you make him feel.. but lately, he's been cold and distant, not giving you the attention you craved for, and today you felt overjoyed when he initiated intimacy for the first time in weeks..

You were euphoric when he asked you to ‘make love’ to him..  all those gut wrenching scenarios of him not loving you anymore or even cheating on you fading away in mere seconds. But.. let's be honest.. it didn't feel that good, maybe it's because you forgot how it felt or maybe he was tired and thus this wasn't his best performance or maybe... You fell out of love?

You sighed, pushing away those taunting thoughts and deciding to go to sleep. You'll confront him tomorrow about this, now you're both—he was— way too tired to talk this out.

Beep.. you heard a notification. You opened your eyes wondering who could be messaging you at this time of night . But it wasn't your phone, it was Sanzu's.. assuming it was his fellow gang members, you didn't want to invade his privacy so u just went back to sleep..

Beep..beep.. beep beep beep

Ok now you were really starting to get irritated. Not only was your bf's performance awful, but you also couldn't sleep cuz his phone was beeping like crazy.. "wtf could these fuckers want?" You mumbled softly, as you reached for Sanzu's phone and opened to see the messages.

Sanzu I miss you already

Can't wait to have you back in my bed

I'm so needy for you daddy

Sanzu I'm touching myself thinking ab you

Your jaw dropped as you read those messages. Who was the bitch who sent them? And why was she texting YOUR BF in the dead of night? You were FUMING with rage  already, the last straw  being a nude Pic of some girl fingering herself.

So.. it was all a lie.. all those times Sanzu told you he loved you and cared for you.. it was all an illusion. All the times he'd ignore your calls, refuse to hang out with you under the pretext of being  too tired or having plans w the gang, he was out there doing some other bitch..

Saying you felt betrayed and angry was an understatement.. the world shattered around you as a sense of betrayal consumed you in a heartbeat. The surging rage inside you, made you think about how to actually murder your cheating bf and how to get away with it .. but let's be honest, you'd face serious consequences if you did that, so instead you'll just stick to revenge.. cuz Vendetta sounds hotter than murder.

You scowled, looking at his sleeping form, disgusted by his audacity of fucking you after sticking his dick in some stupid cheap whore he probably found in their clubs .. THE CLUB! THAT'S HOW YOU WERE GOING TO GET REVENGE ON HIM!! You're going to dress real slutty, go to the club and.. FUCK THE TWO PERSONS HE COULDN'T STAND THE MOST.. THE HAITANI BROTHERS... that's your revenge plan.

You quickly went to get ready, careful not to wake him up. You did your hair, put on your fav makeup, and wore the sluttiest most gorgeous dress you owned, then headed out of your shared apartment and took a cab for the club.

On your way there you texted Ran, asking if he was there with his brother to which he affirmed.. he still asked you why were you looking for them out of the blue, but u dismissed everything saying you just wanted to catch up.. pfft, nah u just wanted to fuck them, but u liked being mysterious.

Once you arrived there, you saw Ran waiting for you in front of the entrance, smoking a cigarette. His lips curled in his usual cocky grin when he saw you, taking one last drag out of his cigarettes before throwing it down, stepping on it and blowing out the smoke. "Long time no see y/n! Where's your asshole bf?" He chucked as he greeted you, his greedy eyes scanning you up and down before quickly fixating on your plump tits.

"Yeah it's been a while..and about him ..." You responded in a sultry, intoxicating voice, but as you were about to finish, Rindou suddenly joined you. "Ran, where tf did you go? Oh, hi y/n!" The younger one said annoyed at his brother before turning to greet you.

"Oh yk, I just got out to smoke this cig .. and talk to this pretty lady right here!" He said smugly, gesturing to you as he looked you flirtatiously, his cocky smirk never fading from his face.

Meanwhile, his younger brother was unimpressed with his brother's flirting methods. He just rolled his eyes, before smacking his arm, reminding him you were taken, "dumbass she's dating Sanzu. I don't think you need anymore trouble with that mf" he spoke in a bored tone.

"As if I was afraid o-" "we're not together anymore!" You cut Ran off, dropping this bombshell on them so nonchalantly. The way you sounded so cocky, almost proud of yourself made the two turn their head at you, their eyes wide open as they tried to process what they've just heard..

"Really? You guys aren't together anymore?" Rindou asked, "why?" Ran added.. you just chuckled in a slutty way, making your way in the club, your hips swaying so gracefully with each of your steps before you turned your head to face them, bending over ever so slightly just to let them get a glimpse of your red laced thong.. "get in! I'll let y'all know everything after you'll serve me the best tequila you have here!" You giggled before entering the VIP section..

A few drinks in, you started telling them ab this whole mess of a situation, all giggly and cunty as the alcohol started to get the best of you. "And that's how I found out my asshole bf is a cheater! Hahaha" you laughed as you sipped your now fourth shot of tequila.

The brothers were sitting on either of your sides, both chuckling with you, feeling amused by your story, and the way you were shitting on Sanzu.. it was hilarious for them. but honestly, your words weren't the only captivating thing ab you that night. That form-fitting tube dress really did accentuate your curves magnificently, showcasing your perfectly rounded hips and supple, full buttocks while enhancing your breasts.

You could already see the tent in their pants, their hard ons feeling so constricted from the tight fabric. You smirked, knowing damn well you were on the right path. "whatcha' looking at down there?" You heard Rindou say, his suave voice pulling you out of your thoughts. "oh, a lot of things.." you spoke seductively, your sultry voice drawing them in with a siren's allure.

Ran chuckled at your response, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh before turning his gaze to you, "yk.. if we were your bfs, we wouldn't have done such thing to you!" He spoke, his voice so husky and hot that it send tingles of excitement down to your little clit .. he smirked devilishly to Rindou, who wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, and whispering lowly into your ear, "oh no no no .. we'd treat you like the princess you are!" "Or like the slut you wanna be!" Ran added, his breath feeling hot against your skin, as he too whispered in your ear, making the little hairs on the back of your neck stand and your mind wander.

***TIME SKIP***

As you lay on the bed, your heart racing with  anticipation, Ran positioned himself beside your head, while Rindou knelt between your trembling thighs. With a wicked glint in his eyes, Ran shoved his rock-hard cock past your lips, the warm, wet heat of your mouth enveloping his throbbing length.

Simultaneously, Rindou's skilled tongue began its work, plunging into your slick, wet folds, swirling and lapping at your clit. The dual assault on your senses was enough to make you gag on Ran's cock, the overwhelming sensations of his girth combined with Rindou's relentless tongue driving you to the edge of blissful, mind-numbing ecstasy.

Ran's cocky demeanor, only served to heighten your arousal. He gripped the back of your head, thrusting his manhood further down your throat as he growled in satisfaction. "Mhmm.. fuck your throat's amazing ahh"

Rindou, on the other hand, watched you with predatory hunger as he feasted on your wet, aching flesh. "Your pussy is fucking wet, haha. Thinking I've just gotten started" he chuckled smugly.

His fingers splayed on the soft curves of your ass, as his digits sensually massaged your backdoor hole, rubbing in all that slick to make it extra slippery.

Your body shook with each of Ran's powerful thrusts, a guttural moan escaping his lips, as your throat clenched around his hard dick. "Fuck doll, your so goddamn tight shit ..." He grunted through gritted teeth.

Your back arched involuntarily as Rindou's finger delved into your anus, the pressure and sensation sending electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your breath hitched as his skilled fingers teased your sensitive rosette, while Ran's thrusts grew more intense, each one a testament to the animalistic hunger that raged within him.

Sweat dripped down your temples as your mind whirred, your body on the precipice of shattering under the unrelenting, merciless onslaught of pleasure.

Rindou's fingering was enough to push you over the edge, a deafening, orgasmic cry escaping your lips as your core clenched and released in a mind-shattering climax. "Fucking cum in my mouth princess!" His moan muffled by his continuous lapping at your folds, trying to drink up all your sweet juices oozing outra your Cunt.

Ran chuckled at your reaction, withdrawing from your mouth, a  smirk playing on his lips. Rindou, having claimed his own satisfaction, pulled his fingers from your quivering ass and leaned in to kiss your swollen, slick lips. "You're in for a long night!" Rindou said, his voice tinged with malice, "we're not done with you yet little whore" added Ran in a smug tone, lowering his head to press his lips on yours, capturing them in a hungry fiery kiss that reflected his lustful need for your body..

"Flip her over Rindou, I need to fuck her!" He turned to his brother, both of them smirking, knowing they'll ruin you for good tonight.

An idea suddenly came to the younger one's mind, a wicked grin appearing in his face. His older brother caught onto his expression.. "Aniki.. what if we film this.. yk to remember this moment!" He spoke, his gaze fixed upon you as you lay, exhausted and spent, upon the bed. Ran chuckled, very much enjoying his idea. "And that's why you're the best lil bro!" He patted his shoulder.

With the phones set up to capture every detail of your sinful desires, Ran and Rindou wasted no time in maneuvering you into position. Gently, but with urgency, they flipped you onto your hands and knees, your ass presented and your head dangling down.

Rindou, the more muscular of the two, positioned himself behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your chest as he lined up his cock with your tight entrance. As he began to thrust into you from behind, you could feel the thickness of his girth stretching you wide, the sensation of his well-defined pecs and sculpted arms brushing against your back with each powerful thrust.

Meanwhile, Ran, the lanky one, took up position between your legs, his cock already coated in your saliva, ready to invade your dripping cunt. He teased your quivering clit and swollen, his fingertips dancing around it as his shaft rubbed against your swollen labia, eliciting breathless gasps from you.

Once he had your cunt dripping wet, he slid inside, burying his rock-hard length to the hilt, your inner walls clenching around his girth like a velvet vice. "Oh shit, that feels goddamn good" he groaned, his gaze lowering to where you were greedily sucking him in.

The twin sensations of their cocks, one thick and veiny, the other long and lean, filled you, stretching you beyond your wildest dreams, leaving you to moan and squirm beneath their masterful touch.

Both men took turns on you, their skilled hands roamed your body, pinching, pulling and massaging your erect nipples into throbbing peaks. Rindou would tug at one while Ran sucked the other, the erotic mix of sensations sending shivers down your spine. You arched your back in response, begging for more, their cocks filling you with an intensity you never knew existed.

Ran's tempo grew faster and his cock dug deeper into your cunt with each thrust. In contrast, Rindou's slow, deliberate strokes from behind created a perfect rhythm, your cunt and ass being filled with a perfect balance of control and fervor.

Their animalistic grunts and your increasingly frantic whimpers filled the room, the sound of their flesh smacking against yours a sensual chorus. Your body, pushed to the very edge, was at their mercy, your mind drowning in pleasure as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm.

The pressure was unbearable, and you knew that release was imminent. As Rindou's powerful hands clamped onto your hips, pulling you back onto his thick cock with an unrestrained ferocity, Ran bit down on your neck, hard, leaving a stinging hickey.

It was then that the crescendo hit you like a freight train. "ungghhh.. ungghhh.. r-rindouuu.. Raaaan.. ahhh fuck it's too much I'm cumming!" You cried out, your body convulsing in the most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced, your pussy milking Ran's cock, and your ass clenching around Rindou's as they continued to fuck you relentlessly.

"Fuck I'm close.. ahh fuck" Rindou grunted, his grip on your waist tightening to the point of bruising you. Ran grinned, his thrown back head coming down to look at your disheveled state, hair and makeup all messed up, drool dripping out of your gaping mouth, skin full of bruises, bite marks and hickeys. "Yeah.. Ig I'm close too" he replied lowly, smirking, as he panted ... He was getting closer and closer by the second.

"Hey Rin" he called out, "wanna cum on her face?" He suggested, his voice thick with malice. Rindou was fond of the idea, nodding as they both pulled out of your abused, fluttering holes... They'll be filled up on another occasion.

They quickly flipped you over, your fucked out face making them laugh at your messed up and untidy state.. "I bet Sanzu never made her feel this good!" Ran said, his low chuckles echoing through the room. "Maybe we'll show him what real fucking looks like!" Rindou added, a sly smirk painting his face.. they both laughed, before they grabbed their phones, pointing it at your pretty face, as they stroked their throbbing cocks.

As you lay there, your body still quivering from the explosive orgasm that washed over you, your mind was hazy and euphoric. Yet, even in this blissful state, your dedication to them was unwavering, so you presented your eager face to them.

Hasty to repay their efforts, you took their cocks into your mouth, your tongue swirling around their throbbing head, your skilled hands working their shafts in perfect sync. As they grunted and moaned, the tension between you grew, their arousal and your attentiveness driving them closer to the edge. "Damn doll, didn't know you could be such a slut!" Rindou moaned as he felt himself very close.

Just as you felt their balls tighten, their throbbing cocks swelling with impending release, Ran decided to facetime Sanzu, he wanted to show him what he got for cheating on such a beauty like you. The pinquette picked up the phone, looking rather pissed at seeing his face. "Tf you want Haitani?" He grumbled.. "oh me? Nothing.. but your girl might want something from me and my brother!" He giggled devilishly before he turned the camera, showing how eagerly you sucked their dicks, begging them to cum on your face. To say that Sanzu's face went pale is an understatement, and before he could cuss you all out, Rindou grabbed the phone and said "fuck you asshole, your gf likes our cocks better" Before they both hung up on him, throwing the phone across the room and getting their whole attention back on fucking your mouth.

"Fucking asshole, he'll definitely come here to kick our asses!"

"As if I cared!" Rindou continued, before he started slamming his hips harder in your mouth, your tight orifice struggling to take them both at the same time.

Your tongue danced along the veiny underside of his throbbing shaft, while your right hand pumped Ran's length with feverish fervor. The sight of their cocks, slick with your saliva, coated in your eager attentions, had their eyes glazing over with lust.

Their hips bucked forward, the urge to spill their seed onto your beautiful face growing more insistent. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna drop a fat load" With a guttural moan, Rindou's release exploded forth, his hot, sticky cum splattering against your forehead, cheeks, and chin, coating you in his essence.

"I'm gonna glaze your face with my cum baby" Ran moaned loudly, before following suit, as his own release pulsed from the tip of his cock, joining Rindou's in decorating your lovely face. The brothers, satiated and breathless, watched as you lapped up the remnants, leaving your face glistening with their combined seed.

"Damn... Sanzu doesn't know what he fucking Lost!" Ran breathed out exhaustedly before collapsing next to you, followed by Rindou. They both wrapped their arms around your figure, pulling you closer to their sticky bodies as they pulled the covers over you all, and succumbed to deep sleep.

The next morning, you were woken up by loud shouting and shattering noses. Curious, you quickly put on a shirt you randomly found on the ground, and went to see what all the fuss was about.

As you stormed into the living room, you were immediately confronted with the sight of a furious Sanzu, locked in heated combat with the two brothers. They bickered and cursed, the room flooding with a palpable tension.

You stood resolutely between the three men, hands on your hips as you glared at Sanzu. "What the hell are you doing here, you asshole?!" you roared. "What the fuck are you doing here?!" you repeated, fuming. "What were you thinking when you fucked these two, piece of shit excuses for men? Do you not know they don't give a single damn about you?!"

Sanzu tried to interject, but your lightning-fast hand found his cheek, delivering a sharp, stinging slap. "Care about me? You think I don't know you've been getting your rocks off with some random slut behind my back? Spare me the 'it was a mistake' bullshit, because we're done." You spoke in clipped, angry syllables, your gaze unwavering.

The brothers behind you failed miserably in their attempts to suppress their laughter, their uncontrolled giggles an insult to the severity of the situation. As you stood there, glaring at your ex, you couldn't help but feel a wave of exasperation: men were indeed a ridiculous bunch.

©2024MDsbabygirl do not copy or translate my work without my permission.

[ageingfangirl2]

Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

FIRST DAY/INTRODUCTIONS

Bonten is Tokyo's most notorious crime syndicate but has an office like any respectable business. even if it was a front. Each member had an office, there were a couple of meeting rooms, and they even had other staff who like you were sworn to secrecy or face deadly consequences. The pay was better than any other place you'd interviewed at, and the hours were reasonable, but you were expected to be flexible if needed to come in early or stay later.

The reception area had a few sofas and tables, and your counter was the first thing you saw when you got off the lift. You couldn't actually enter the offices behind you unless you had a key card or you buzzed them in. It would be quite lonely out here on your own or so you thought.

Hajime Kokonoi had hired you, he said it was because you looked trustworthy, and of course, you made a joke that he'd probably had your background checked. He told you to your face he had and you were the most worthy applicant. When you pushed for more he sealed his lips. On your first day, he put a very nice vase of flowers on the reception counter stating it gave the place more life, but it was a bouquet of your favourite flowers. So you thanked him and he said it was nothing, even though a couple of flowers had to be imported. You heard he was stingy with money.

You were typing away when Takeomi Akashi walked out of the offices with an unlit cigarette between his lips not noticing your presence, because he was busy cussing the lighter that wasn't working. 'Excuse me, let me help you,' you call out, grab the lighter from your bag and walk over to him. 'Who are you?' he asks confused, and you explain as you light the cigarette. 'Thank you, you smoke?' he enquires and you shake your head, and explain your friends do and on nights out you'd rather them come to you than a stranger. 'Smart girl, never smoke.' Takeomi now knew who to come to when his lighter wouldn't work.

Kakucho walks out of the lift on his phone, 'good morning,' you say politely. The poor man jumps out of his skin and nearly drops his phone on the marble floor. You apologise profusely for scaring him and his face gets a little redder the more you talk to him. It's not lost on you that he's not so subtly checking you out, in fact, you find it kind of cute when he should be intimidating. 'Nice to meet you, err I have to go,' he stutters and makes a quick escape into the offices. At the end of the day, he introduces himself properly, telling you if you need anything you can call him. It had been a while since a guy had given you his number.

Word spread by lunchtime about the new hire and that's when you met the Haitani brothers Ran and Rindou. Hajime had warned you to be on your guard, you were innocent and the brothers would try to taint you. 'hello beautiful, I have a reason to come into the office more now,' Ran croons, leaning over the counter staring at you with lustful eyes. You sit up straight, 'it's nice to meet you, but nothing's going to happen.' Ran looks hurt while his brother laughs, 'Maybe you're not as much of a charmer as you think brother. Call me Rindou.' and you're shocked when he takes your hand and kisses it. You would almost believe he was a gentleman if he didn't have the same lustful eyes as his brother. You smile and remove your hand from his, 'I don't know what game you two are playing but it won't be easy. I've been warned.' the brothers exchange a look and huff, 'Koko,' they say in unison. You nod and go back to your computer. Little did you know that your rejection ignited a challenge between the brothers to see who could win you over first.

After the Haitani brothers, you thought you'd be left alone but there were a couple of cocky male employees who thought they could flash expensive suits and watches while being drenched in overpowering cologne. Unlike the brothers these two immediately violated your personal space making you feel uncomfortable, 'can you leave me alone please?' you ask, 'get away from me,' you insist. One of the men goes to grab your arm 'Know your place bitch--' when he's grabbed himself and thrown backwards. Kanji Mochizuki stands guard in front of you, 'the lady said no, just wait until the boss here's about this.' Then men scurry off scared by the threat. He turns to face you with a warm smile, 'Sorry about that, they won't cause you any more problems. Give me a shout if anyone else makes you feel uncomfortable.' you weren't quite sure what to make of him, but you just got your second number of the day.

Hajime or Koko as he told you to call him asked you to stay late to accept a parcel for another member. This is where you met Bonten's no.2 Haruchiyo Sanzu and the leader Manjiro Sano. You were taken aback seeing Sanzu covered in blood while Mikey didn't seem to have a single scratch on him, both looked equally intimidating and you didn't want to get on either of their bad sides. You gulp and look down at the parcel you'd not long signed for seeing it was addressed to Sanzu, 'good evening I have a parcel for Haruchiyo Sanzu.' both men stare at you, Sanzu looks manic while Mikey looks bored. 'Thank you, lovely lady, pink looks good on you,' Sanzu chuckles and takes the parcel before skipping into the office. You brush imaginary creases off your light pink blouse, 'well I guess I'll be going then, have a good night sir,' you pick up your bag, turn off the monitor and stand up noticing Mikey hadn't moved his eyes from you, 'are you okay sir?' you ask. He blinks a couple of times, 'Yes, get home safe,' you nod and press the lift button, feeling a little uneasy having Mikey continue to stare at you.

When you returned to your apartment you threw yourself on the bed thinking about your interesting first day of work, and all the Bonten members you'd interacted with. This was going to be an interesting job.

[beeing1alive]

Hiii!!! I love your writings I look forward to reading them when I get back from school everyday!!💗 Can you do Toman boys with a girlfriend who literally jumps onto him and lifts her feet off the ground when she gets excited? I think that would be really cute if that’s ok?

Note: I was very happy about your sweet message and I had a lot of fun writing it

He froze for a few seconds, blushing so extremely that they're happy as hell that he can hide his face in your neck. Then he gently put his hands around your hips to lift you up and twirl you around just to hear your sweet giggles. He finds it adorable and would do it again and again.

Angry; Hakkai; Takemichi

He lifts you up and holds you tight to look you in the eye. His eyes sneak over every little inch of your body and he thanks God and whoever else is there in heaven for this wonderful view. It turns him on. And he realises far too late. You notice it immediately and are also blushing slightly before you plant your soft lips on his, kissing him, touching him. Really, it just turns him on even more.

Smiley; Kazutora; Draken

He lets you do it and tries to play it cool, but the glint in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks tell you that it means a lot to him and that he loves it when you do it. Of course he would never admit it. Promise me you'll give him a kiss afterwards because he's slowly thawing out.

Kisaki; Sanzu; Baji

He embraces you warmly, a grin adorning his face. Moments like this with you are the best and he would give his life for you. He twirls you around in the air, only to set you back down on the ground a few minutes later and pulls you right back into a deep hug. Give him a kiss and he'll be happy for the rest of the day.

Mikey; Mitsuya; Chifuyu

Attention: The characters and the GIF do not belong to me. All credits go to the original owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed please contact me.