#sorry mikey I have left you out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flopsxii · 5 months ago

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tokyo revengers boys with their crush (aka you!) <3

feat. sano ‘mikey’ manjiro, ryuguji ‘draken’ ken, hanagaki takemichi, baji keisuke, matsuno chifuyu, hanemiya kazutora, mitsuya takashi, inui seishu && kokonoi hajime

notes: first time writing for so many characters and some for the first time :0 i hope it isn’t ass!!! sorry if some characters i haven’t written for before are ooc and inaccurate! ALSO I HATE SQUID GAME BUT TRANS BADDIE.

— i will release a part two soon :)

sano ‘mikey’ manjiro

ꪆৎ i think mikey would be somewhat upfront with you about his crush. of course, he wouldn’t outright confess until he knew you shared the same sentiment. however, he’d make it fairly obvious that he thought highly of you and how he loves spending time with you over anyone else.

ꪆৎ he’d definitely ‘kidnap’ you from classes, begging you to leave because it’s an “emergency”, but really he just wanted to spend time with you. you’d scold him after, reminding him about the importance of school, but he’d just stand there with a love struck smile on his face. it didn’t matter wether you were lecturing him or ignoring him, being in your presence was enough to bring him happiness.

ꪆৎ his crush is blankly obvious to all of toman and probably other gangs in the near vicinity. no one dared to talk to you in a negative way, a bonus of having mike’s affections. and suddenly, if anyone was mean to you, it didn’t happen anymore… sometimes you wondered why but mikey would shush you immediately. “maybe they just realised that bringing down such an amazing person was a reflection of themselves, y/n-chan!”

ꪆৎ would love it when you accompany him on foodie ‘dates’, rides on his motorbike and even accompanying him to toman’s meetings. it genuinely shocked everyone when mikey would interrupt himself to stick his tongue out at you just to make you giggle. truly toman’s royalty!

ꪆৎ also would most likely pitch up at your house at random points of the day. even as ‘friends’, he’d want to nap together and just hang out alone where he wouldn’t have to maintain his reputation as the ‘invincible mikey’. with you, he could just be manjiro.

ꪆৎ in terms of confession, i think mikey would let it slip out when he’s most vulnerable. either when he’s super sleepy or just generally having a rough time. small whispers of how much he appreciates you and likes you would fall from his lips. once he realised what he had done, it was most likely too late to take it back. he just hoped you shared the same feelings.

ryuguji ‘draken’ ken

ꪆৎ unlike his best friend and captain, draken would keep his feelings to himself and it probably would stay that way for a while. it’s not because he doesn’t wanna be with you, in fact, it’s the opposite! he’d most likely think that a relationship with him would come hand in hand with people jeopardising your safety. so more likely than most, he’d stick to being your friend (a very close friend) until he knew you’d be safe.

ꪆৎ probably would trail behind you whilst you’d go shopping, a unreadable expression on his face but instead, his mind was overwhelmed by the thought of you! how adorable you looked as you pointed out cute things, making a mental note of items to buy you for your birthday.

ꪆৎ definitely would be the first one at your door if you came down with any sickness. even if it was a common cold! he’d remind you that sickness could get worse if left untreated and you should ‘stop denying him and just accept his help.’

ꪆৎ he’s immensely protective over you, even if he doesn’t necessarily need to be. other toman members would try and remind draken that he doesn’t need to be worried over your safety, after all the whole of toman would take care of you!

ꪆৎ i also feel like draken would be the type to pick you up and drop you off before and after school. even if the walk was 10 minutes and under, he’d remind you it could be dangerous alone! it’s purely just an excuse to spend more time with you even if he does act like it’s a chore.

ꪆৎ would probably confess to you if there’s imminent danger towards you or it would slip out without him realising. he’d definitely have to take a couple moments to compose himself if it was the latter, a furious blush erupting over his cheeks causing you to giggle.

hanagaki takemichi

ꪆৎ he’s so so shy around you! however, no matter how much he makes a fool of himself in front of you, he just can’t stay away. it’s like he’s in a constant state of fluster whenever he’s in your presence.

ꪆৎ definitely walks you to and from school, holding your hand if you initiate it first. he would probably also try carry your school books for you, even if you remind him that your arms work just fine. he just wants to help you in anyway he can!

ꪆৎ would also 100% feel awful when he sees the sad expression on your face whenever he turns up with new bruises and cuts covering his face. his heart would break when you graze your fingers over the wounds, asking a meek “do they hurt, michi-kun?”

ꪆৎ also the type to try show off to you whenever he can but fail miserably. although, if he sees that amazing smile, the humiliation he feels is always worth it! even if he ends up hurting himself, he won’t mind if you make sure he’s okay after. maybe a hug wouldn’t hurt also…

ꪆৎ speaking of hugs, he’d probably malfunction the first time that your arms wrap around him. even if you were doing it out of worry for his wellbeing, he cherishes the moment for the rest of his life.

ꪆৎ he doesn’t confess… it’s actually you who tells him how you feel. it’s a heartfelt conversation you two share after you see the boy beaten to a bloody pulp so that his friends would be alright. his loyalty and tenacity being one of the few reasons why you adore him so much!

baji keisuke

ꪆৎ honestly, he’s the definition of whipped. even chifuyu is surprised when he sees how baji acts in your presence. it’s so impossibly clear how much baji likes you to anyone else in the room, except you!

ꪆৎ he’d probably start fancying you if you helped with his studies and actually persevered with him despite how difficult he tried to make it. initially, he’d deny your help, grumpily saying he can handle it and to leave him alone. however, when you sit across from him and start reading through your notes and helping him correct his wrong answers, he’s floored. any other person would’ve left after his shitty response but you stayed.

ꪆৎ would act like your best friend but to anyone else, they view you as baji’s partner (albeit unofficially). is fiercely protective over you and if anyone makes you upset (even a little bit) are met with baji’s anger and very soon after, his fists. of course, you lecture him for jumping into action without consulting you but the fact he cares so much makes your heart beat impossibly faster.

ꪆৎ would definitely invite you over to his house to hang out, just so he could have some time alone with you. even if it’s just you reading and him silently laying beside you, it’s almost heaven to baji. if it was heaven, you’d be spilling your undying love for him but he thinks he wouldn’t be so lucky.

ꪆৎ would also end up sometimes bringing you to toman meetings if he absolutely has no other choice. but you’d stick by his side the whole time and if he’s not available for some reason, chifuyu is there to stand in!

ꪆৎ much like takemichi, you’d have to confess to baji first or you’d be playing cat and mouse with him for the rest of eternity. even his mum knows how he feels but he’ll deny every accusation. however, she’s just happy her hot headed son has someone he cares about and she’s so happy it’s you!

matsuno chifuyu

ꪆৎ chifuyu is definitely the type to crush on his best friend! someone he shares such a deep bond with and trusts on an immensely deep level. i doubt he’d fancy someone he knows on a surface level, he doesn’t know them well enough. however, he knows you inside and out, it never feels awkward around you (despite the constant blush on his cheeks that he hides everytime).

ꪆৎ he’s definitely protective over you, along side baji who will take care of you if chifuyu isn’t around. if he sees anyone hassling you, he’s the first to jump in and defend your honour!

ꪆৎ he always invites you round to his house just to see you cuddle peke j. furthermore, he’ll take you to the zoo, aquariums or just pet shops to hang out since you both share the same sentiment towards animals. it’s one of the reasons he’s fallen so hard for you.

ꪆৎ his mum adores your ‘friendship’ with her son, she’s never seen him so happy (in a romantic way!). she will buy food specially for you to share and even sometimes drop devious hints in your ears about her sons feelings; you don’t take it seriously at first.

ꪆৎ he probably doesn’t initiate physical contact with you too much, it makes his brain overload. but, the option is there… he will without a doubt wrap you in a bear hug; savouring the feeling for as long as possible.

ꪆৎ chifuyu is definitely the type to try reenact scenes from his favourite mangas then make a complete fool of himself. however, he doesn’t know that you appreciate him trying nonetheless, no matter how silly he looks doing so.

ꪆৎ following his shoujo manga’s ideology, he’d confess in a subtle but heartfelt way. i think either using peke j as a messenger, a small note tucked into his little collar. or he’d tell you up front and be as sincere with his words as his silly brain would allow.

hanemiya kazutora

ꪆৎ it’s likely that no one knows that kazutora has a crush on anyone, most of all you. i think he wouldn’t interact with you that much in public, instead opting to spend time with you in private when he could truly be himself.

ꪆৎ the amount of times kazutora has to cover his raging blush on his cheeks each time you hang out is insane! he never knew that compliments he hears on the daily about his appearance could make his heart beat so fast, until they came out of your mouth.

ꪆৎ he definitely visits you if you have a job, sneaking in and surprising you with a huge smile on his face! he’s also the type to stay until your shift ends and make sure you get home safely, wether you ride on his motorcycle or not.

ꪆৎ he may also sometimes slip you unexpected gifts, only small ones though that have sentimental value. maybe it’s cinema tickets from the time you dragged him out after his release from juvie.

ꪆৎ he doesn’t want you involved with any gang activity so it’s quite unlikely that you find out he’s still involved with that stuff. however, he would tell you flat out if you heard any rumours about him and would reassure you that he’d keep you seperate.

ꪆৎ it’s unlikely he’d confess, liking things how they are, no matter how much he wishes your relationship could progress. either he’s worried you’d see him as a monster, due to things he did in the past and in the present or he just wouldn’t know how to say it so it’s better left unsaid anyways. it would have to be you to lay your feelings out for him to see and decide what to do next.

mitsuya takashi

ꪆৎ i think mitsuya would be one of the most upfront about his feelings on this list without saying it directly. toman can clearly see the sentiment he shares for you, even girls in his class and sewing club know that he’s essentially spoken for!

ꪆৎ he loves inviting you along to his days out with his sisters. not only because he loves spending time with you but also because the two girls adore you as much as he does! one of his favourite photographs is the four of you on one of your days out, a scarf he made wrapped around your neck.

ꪆৎ speaking of clothes he’s made; mitsuya definitely surprises you with new pieces every so often. even if you’d try refuse, telling him he should try sell them as they’re just that good, he’d remind you that he’d much rather see them on you and wants no payment in return (no matter how much you insist).

ꪆৎ gentleman mitsuya always gives you a ride no matter where you need to go! even if you mention in passing that you’re going shopping in the coming days, he will insist that he’s your ride! after all, he can’t stand by whilst you lug heavy bags home.

ꪆৎ once mitsuya is certain about your feelings reflecting his, he’d be direct with his words. “i have feelings for you, y/n-chan.” a simple statement that gets the biggest weight off his chest. he can only hope you accept his confession…

inui seishu

ꪆৎ you’re most likely a childhood friend to seishu, i find it unlikely he’d fancy a classmate or a passing stranger. perhaps, a childhood friends sibling? that way, he’s able to determine wether you actually like him for who he is.

ꪆৎ alongside kokonoi, he trusts you immensely. i highly doubt he’s able to form romantic feelings for anyone without the formation of trust. you’re his confident and he’s yours, and it has always been that way. at this point, seishu is unable to see himself confiding with anyone else the way he does with you.

ꪆৎ when he first started gaining feelings for you, i think he probably would give you the cold shoulder, not understanding how he feels. but, he’ll make things right with you once his minds less foggy!

ꪆৎ if you don’t exactly share the same interests, such as how he’s very interested in motorbikes and mechanics, he will try very hard to get into your hobbies so you can spend more time together. however, it means an immense amount to him that you’ll sit there and let him ramble about his favourite bike that shinichiro worked on, even if it was so long ago.

ꪆৎ he would probably confess when everything has settled down in his life. that includes his involvement with gang activity. he would hate to put someone so close to his heart in jeopardy. however, if you can’t wait, you could always confess yourself…

kokonoi hajime

ꪆৎ it would take him a long, long time to actually acknowledge his feelings for you. he would probably feel like moving on was a betrayal to akane but there came a point where he couldn’t ignore those feelings anymore.

ꪆৎ he would treat you amazingly, even if he’s battling with the thoughts inside his head about you and akane. he’d offer you money if you needed it (you will most likely hand it straight back), buy you gifts and happen to forget the receipt…

ꪆৎ even after several talks that you like spending time with him because of who he is and not what he can do for you, kokonoi still finds it hard to accept. he probably will see some resemblance to akane in that sense and would probably think she’d want him to be with someone like you.

ꪆৎ one of his favourite things about you is that even if he isn’t in a sociable mood, you will still sit with him and enjoy his company. not to mention he’s floored by how amazing you look everytime he sees you!

ꪆৎ he also loves going on day trips with you and seishu, finding every different place the three of you visit special.

ꪆৎ his confession would be sincere and precise. he would lay his feelings out and would promise to treat you amazingly and of course, take care of you in anyway you’d need.

#mikey x reader #draken x reader #takemichi x reader #baji keisuke x reader #chifuyu x reader #kazutora x reader #mitsuya x reader #inupi x reader #kokonoi x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader

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luv4arinn · 3 months ago

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Bayverse!Raph as a Boyfriend Headcanons <3 (but I psychoanalyzed him way too much)

Parenting: Raph x Female Reader

Warnings: Low self-esteem, body dysphoria, this is more serious, sorry, yeah nsfw

This man is the definition of “I’m a mess, but if someone even looks at you, they’re dead.”

In the Bayverse movies, Raph carries a deep-seated resentment toward himself. It’s not just his aggressive attitude or his constant need to fight—deep down, he’s convinced that he doesn’t deserve anything good. And when it comes to love… God, it’s even worse.

In his mind, it’s impossible for someone to see him as anything other than a monster. Not a mutant, not a warrior, not a man—a monster. And even though he’d never say it out loud (because, to him, admitting it would give it power), every time he sees you—every time you smile at him, every time you talk to him like he’s not some freak of nature—his brain just short-circuits.

Because what could he possibly offer you?

Donnie has intelligence and could talk to you about a million fascinating things. Mikey would make you laugh and shower you with love without hesitation. Leo… well, Leo has always been the strong one, the one who makes the right decisions, the one who is everything he isn’t.

But him? He’s just Raph. Impulsive, hot-headed, stubborn, and with a track record of messing up at the worst possible moment.

And the worst part is that even though he loves you in silence, even though he wants you more than he’d ever admit, he would never dare to do anything about it. Because… what if you realize he’s not worth it? What if you snap out of it and realize you could have someone better? What if one day you look at him and see what he sees in the mirror?

That’s why Raph would never make the first move. He’d never stare for too long, never dare to cross that line. But his possessiveness would betray him. The way his brow furrows when you talk to someone else. How his jaw clenches when someone gets too close. How his knuckles go white when he feels like someone else has what he’ll never be able to have.

And if you do return his feelings… God, Raph won’t process it. He won’t believe it. He’ll convince himself it’s a mistake. That he’s going to ruin it. That he doesn’t deserve this—that you deserve better.

But if you prove him wrong—if you stay, if you choose him every single day—he’ll be the most fiercely loyal and protective person you could ever have by your side.

Because even if he never says it out loud, even if he never fully admits it, even if he still doesn’t quite believe it himself… knowing that someone sees him as more than a monster is the only thing that could ever heal the wounds he’s carried his entire life.

Raph doesn’t know how to love halfway. He doesn’t know how to be lukewarm, how to be indifferent. His love is a wildfire—one that consumes and leaves scars if left unchecked. And that’s exactly why he hides it. Because he’s afraid that if he lets it out completely, he’ll end up burning the thing he loves the most.

He’s a passionate lover. But not the kind who sweetens his words or whispers promises in hushed tones. No. Raph loves through actions. He loves by protecting, by holding on, by remembering every little detail, by always being there even when you don’t ask. His love is something you feel in the tension of his muscles when someone gets too close, in the way his gaze darkens when someone makes you laugh a little too much, in the way his hand—his massive hands—grip your waist as if you might disappear at any moment.

But as fiery as his love is, his insecurity is just as cold as a bucket of ice water. He’s not the type to throw tantrums or make a scene just because someone else talked to you. No. His jealousy is quiet, internal, corrosive. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he doesn’t trust himself.

Every time he looks at you, every time his eyes land on you, his mind is flooded with the same whirlwind of thoughts:

“God, she’s so beautiful.”

“I love her.”

“Mine.”

“Incredible.”

“I don’t know how she chose me.”

“She could have anyone else.”

…

“I don’t know how she chose me.”

“There are better men than me.”

That last thought is the one that hurts the most. Because no matter how many times you prove him wrong, no matter how many times you stay, no matter how many times you choose him over and over again—deep down, the idea that you could leave never fully leaves him.

That’s why he holds on, even if you don’t notice. Not in a desperate way, not in an obvious way. But it’s there. In how he always walks in a way that keeps his body between you and any other man. In how his fingers sometimes grip the fabric of your clothes just a little too tightly when you’re around others. In how his gaze turns sharp and lethal, even without saying a word.

Because Raph is a warrior. A soldier. A fighter.

But when it comes to love, he doesn’t fight with the same confidence.

Not because he doesn’t want to—

But because he doesn’t believe he has the right to.

Raph isn’t afraid of many things. Not of pain, not of fighting, not of facing an enemy who could kill him at any moment.

But he’s afraid of heights.

And he’s afraid of himself.

Sometimes, on the darkest nights, when the world is silent and there are no distractions to keep him occupied, that fear eats him alive. It burns through his chest like acid. Because he knows what he is. He knows he’s not like Leo, who can think before he acts. He knows he’s not like Donnie, who can analyze things without letting emotions cloud his judgment. He’s not like Mikey, who can let things go with a smile.

He is rage.

He is fire.

He is violence contained within a body too big and a mind too tormented.

And if that rage were ever directed at you…

That thought alone is enough to make his stomach twist. It sickens him, makes him want to throw up, to punch something just to distract himself from the possibility. Because Raph knows what it’s like to lose control. He knows what it’s like to feel his vision go red, to not realize what he’s doing until it’s too late.

But never, never could he allow that to happen to you.

And yet… he’s human. (Well, as close as he can be.) And he makes mistakes.

If you ever fight—if his emotions ignite like an uncontrollable wildfire, if the heat of the argument blinds him, if his voice rises until it becomes a roar—God, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying. The words spill out like daggers, sharp and unfiltered, filled with frustration and things he doesn’t mean. And deep down, as every syllable poisons the air between you, his throat tightens, his tongue tastes foul, like he’s chewing on something rotten.

But that’s not the worst part.

The worst part is when, in an impulsive act—because he’s always impulsive—his fist slams into the wall right beside you.

The sound echoes. A sharp, heavy thud.

Loud. Too loud.

And when the dust settles, when the echo of his own fury stops ringing in his ears, that’s when he sees it.

Your eyes.

Wide open. Shocked. Scared.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

That fear in your gaze hits him harder than any enemy he’s ever faced. It’s like a punch to the chest, a bullet straight to the heart. His breath catches. His entire body freezes, and the fire inside him—the one that fuels him, the one that’s always raging—suddenly dies out.

There are no words to describe what he feels in that moment.

Shame. Guilt. Self-loathing.

He’s not afraid that you’ll hate him. He’s afraid that you’d be right to.

That you’ll finally see what he’s always known: that he’s not good for you. That he’s dangerous. That no matter how much he loves you, his own nature will always be his worst enemy.

And if he ever loses you because of that…

He doesn’t even know if he’d be able to keep breathing.

Your footsteps fade into the distance, echoing against the damp concrete of the sewers, and Raph stays right where he is.

Still.

Not moving.

Not doing what every fiber of his being is screaming at him to do—run after you, stop you, grab you, tell you he’s sorry, that he didn’t mean to scare you, that he didn’t mean to make you cry.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can still see it in his mind. Your expression, that look in your eyes that wasn’t anger, wasn’t sadness—

It was fear.

God.

He clenches his fists and lowers his gaze. He wants to convince himself that he’s not following you because he’s too proud to apologize, because he hates admitting when he’s wrong (and he was wrong—he always is when it comes to these arguments). He wants to tell himself that it’s because he was already in a shitty mood from arguing with Leo earlier, that it’s not his fault his temper is a ticking time bomb.

But deep down, he knows the truth.

He doesn’t follow you because he’s scared.

Because what the hell is he supposed to say? What words could erase what just happened? How could he possibly fix this without making it worse?

So he does the only thing he knows how to do—

He hits.

His fist collides with the wall again, pain shooting through his knuckles like a reminder of what he is.

Of what he can’t change.

And yet, hours later, there he is.

Standing outside your window.

From out here, he can hear you. Not loud sobs, not heart-wrenching cries, but enough. Shaky breaths, the faint sound of your sniffles. And he—he almost turns around right then, almost runs because he doesn’t know if he can take it.

But he doesn’t.

Because he fucked up. And if anyone deserves to carry the weight of this, it’s him.

Slowly, he opens your window (locked, but you gave him a key). He makes no sound as he climbs inside, though the floor creaks slightly beneath his weight. He finds you sitting on your bed, gaze lowered. And when you finally lift your head and your eyes meet his—

It’s like the air is knocked right out of his lungs.

He doesn’t know what to say.

He’s never been good with words. Never known how to express what he feels without his tongue getting tied, without his voice betraying what he really means to say.

So when he finally speaks, his words are clumsy, short—

A failed attempt at explaining the unexplainable.

But you see it.

You see the way his shoulders slump, the way his eyes avoid yours like he’s not worthy of looking at you. You see the tension in his jaw, the war between his pride and his regret.

And then—he does it.

A step forward. Then another. And another.

Until he’s right in front of you.

His massive hands take hold of you with an impossible gentleness, and in one swift motion, he pulls you against his chest.

It’s firm. Warm. Encompassing.

There are no words that could say what this says.

His breathing is heavy, his heartbeat pounds against your ear. One arm wraps around you completely, the other cradles your head against his neck—like he’s making sure you can’t leave, like he can’t lose you again.

And then you feel it.

A faint touch against your hair.

A kiss.

He doesn’t say “I’m sorry” out loud. He doesn’t need to.

His actions say it all.

And you know it.

So yeah. Reconciliation.

But as he holds you, his forehead pressed against yours, his hand still gripping onto you like he’s terrified to let go—

Raph can only think one thing:

“I just hope I don’t fuck this up again. And if I do… God, please let her forgive me.”

Loving Raph is complicated.

Not because he isn’t worth it, but because he makes it difficult. Because every day is a battle against his own fears, against the thought that maybe—just maybe—he’s not enough for you.

But if you’re wondering about the… intimate side of things.

Well.

We all know Raph isn’t exactly innocent.

In his mind, he’s already had you in every way possible. He’s already imagined you gasping his name, cheeks flushed, breath ragged, looking at him like he’s the only thing that exists. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to slip away, lock himself in the bathroom, and let his hand do the work while his mind recreates you in vivid detail—every little thing he’s memorized about you.

And when he really can’t take it, when the need is unbearable and his body begs for any kind of release, he just tells Mikey to sleep on the couch.

It’s selfish. He knows that. But he doesn’t care.

Because that night, he needs his space.

He needs your scent still lingering on his pillow, needs to bury his face in it and close his eyes while his hand moves at a frantic pace—imagining it’s your skin he’s touching, your mouth around him instead.

But outside of his mind, outside of his most desperate fantasies—

Things are… different.

So far, the farthest you’ve gone is mutual masturbation. And God.

He thought he was going to die when he felt your lips around his length, when your tongue slid along his shaft and your eyes met his. His back hit the wall, and he let out a groan so deep he swore someone in the lair must have heard him.

And when he had you riding his fingers, gripping onto his arm as you unraveled in his hand, he swore his self-control was hanging by a thread.

But he always stops there.

Because Raph is big.

Not just in size, but in strength, in intensity, in everything. And no matter how much you want him, no matter how many times you assure him that he would never hurt you on purpose, that fear is still there.

That damn fear of hurting you.

Because if he were human, he already would’ve had you. He would’ve taken you the way he’s supposed to, given you everything you want—everything he craves with every fiber of his being.

But he’s not human.

And even though his hands were made to protect you, he can’t stop thinking about what would happen if he ever slipped up. If he ever lost control.

Loving him is complicated, huh?

But if there’s one thing for sure—it’s that you could never get bored of him.

Because there’s something incredible about the way he holds you when he jumps across rooftops, the cold air hitting your face and the night sky reflecting in his golden eyes. There’s something addictive about the feeling of being in his arms, adrenaline rushing through your veins as he moves with lethal precision, like the city belongs to him.

And if you train with him… well, that’s a whole different story.

Because Raph loves seeing you strong, seeing you challenge him, seeing you throw punches at him with all the determination in the world. And even though he’d never admit it out loud, he enjoys it way too much when you sit on his shell while he does push-ups.

Not just because he likes the weight of you on him, but because every time he pushes up and down, he can feel your laughter against his neck, your presence wrapping around him like a second skin.

And God knows—there’s nothing in the world that makes him feel more complete than that.

#tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt #raph tmnt #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raphael #TMNT bayverse

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the-atlas-sister · 1 year ago

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TᕼEY ᗯᗩᒪK Iᑎ Oᑎ YOᑌ ᑕᕼᗩᑎGIᑎG/ᑎᗩKEᗪ- TOKYO ᖇEᐯ.

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘, 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚢𝚞, 𝙱𝚊𝚓𝚒, 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒, 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗, 𝙸𝚣𝚊𝚗𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊

𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘 "𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢" 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚘

"Y/N!" You let out a scream as you heard Mikey pounding on your bathroom door. You were completely naked, getting ready to hop in the shower when your oh so loving boyfriend decided to pound on the door.

"Let me in!" Mikey yelled as the pounding sound continued.

"I'm getting in the shower!" you yelled back grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your torso. The sound paused for a moment before Mikey continued, only louder. "Oh my god!" you yelped, unlocking the door and letting the boy inside.

"Woah-" Mikey said, his eyes going wide as he barged into the bathroom. He held a large bowl of ice water.

"What the hell are you doing with that?" you asked, looking down at the bowl of ice water.

"...get in the shower," he said, trying to hide the bowl behind his back.

"...why do you have the bowl Manjiro?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at the blonde haired boy. He approached you slowly, causing you to step back towards the shower. "Manjiro..."

"Hold still baby," he said, raising the water bowl high above his head.

"Manjiro!" you screeched as he poured the water over your head, drenching you in ice cold water and ice cubes on the tiles of the floor. You stared at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. "You're dead," you hissed.

𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚘

"Hey baby?" Shinichiro said, opening the door to your bedroom, not giving you much time to cover up your bare chest.

"Wait-!" You tried- but it was too late. Shinichiro looked at you with wide eyes as you covered your chest with your arms. He held a fast food menu in his hands.

"Um-" His eyes scanned your topless figure, pink dusting his cheeks. "You- damn I'll never get old of this picture...." he mumbled.

"Don't barge in like that-" you whined, throwing a nearby shirt at the taller black haired man.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before," he chuckled, flinching slightly as the shirt hit his shoulder. "Just wondering what you wanted to eat tonight?"

"Just the usual," you grumbled, going to push him out of the bedroom. "Knock next time please."

"You look beautiful baby," he chuckled, letting you push him out of the room.

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚢𝚞 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚘

Chifuyu pushed open your door, his face buried in his manga as he did. You and Chifuyu had recently moved into a shared dorm room and both of you were still getting used to the idea of living intimately with another person.

"Chifuyu!" you exclaimed, quickly covering your naked body with a nearby shirt.

"Huh? Oh- oh shit!" Chifuyu exclaimed, his face turning a deep red as he looked up at your hardly covered body. "Oh... shit." His eyes scanned your body, making the tips of your ears flush.

"Chifuyu!" you repeated, giving him a shy look.

"Right- right- sorry," he said, shaking his head and turning around to walk out of the room. You couldn't help but smile softly as you caught the wide grin on his face before he left.

𝙱𝚊𝚓𝚒 𝙺𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎

"BABE! I- honey, stop screaming," Baji said, throwing open the shower curtain, despite you trying to cover yourself. "Just look." He showed you his phone, only to reveal a video of Chifuyu getting kicked in the balls by a kindergartener.

"Ba- wait, how did that even happen?" you asked, looking at the screen a bit closer.

"He tried to play a game with Mitsuya's little sisters," Baji chuckled, looking at the phone himself before looking at you. "Damn."

"Get out of here," you chuckled, pushing Baji away from the shower weakly.

"Nuh uh- I'm getting in there!" Baji said, giving you a cheeky grin and pulling off his clothes with an unexplainable speed.

"Baji!" you yelped with a laugh as he hopped into the shower.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚔𝚒

You watched with wide eyes as Takemichi barged into your bedroom. His eye and lip was swollen and his hair was messy. He was rambling about something from the future and a recent fight and Mikey and Draken, oblivious to your shirtless figure watching him.

"Um- Takamichi?" you said, looking at him with a raised brow.

"Huh?" the blonde boy looked over at you, his eyes sudden going wide and his whole face turning a dark red hue. "AAAAAAAAH! I'm so sorry!" he yelled, quickly turning around and placing his face against the door. "I-I just have so much I want to tell you. Oh my god I'm so sorry. Let me know when you're finished."

You never even got the chance to say anything as he shuffled out the door.

𝙺𝚎𝚗 "𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗" 𝚁𝚢𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚓𝚒

"Hey beautiful," Ken said as he walked into your shared bedroom.

"Hey handsome," you responded, looking at your half naked figure in the mirror. "Do I look like I'm gaining some weight?"

"Not particularly," he shrugged, creeping up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Look as beautiful as ever baby." He leaned down and placed a few kisses along the skin of your neck.

𝙸𝚣𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊

You and your boyfriend had recently moved into an apartment together. You had to start getting used to living together with someone, them seeing you naked, smelling your morning breath, seeing you after a night out.

Some took more adjusting than others.

"I could get used to this," Izana's voice chuckled from the doorway. You whipped around to see Izana staring at your topless figure with a loving smile.

"You can't just walk in on me like that," you scoffed, blushing slightly and going to grab a shirt.

"Why not? It's my room too," he chuckled, going to grab the shirt from your hands. "And I'm loving the view, pretty." He cupped your cheek and kissed you softly.

You froze in place as his lips touched yours. You allowed yourself to fall into it, your hand going to grab his arm as your eyes fluttered closed.

"I'll let you get dressed," Izana mumbled, pulling away from your lips.

"I can wait," you said, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer to you.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊

Takashi smiled softly as he wandered into your room. He watched with a shy blush as you danced to whatever was playing in your headphones, dressed in only a bra and sweatpants. He leaned on the door for a second longer, counting his blessings for being the one to capture the heart of such a beautiful person such as yourself. After a few seconds longer he left the room and you were none the wiser to his presence.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/the-atlas-sister/735496078254850048/t%E1%95%BCey-%E1%97%AF%E1%97%A9%E1%92%AAk-i%E1%91%8E-o%E1%91%8E-yo%E1%91%8C-%E1%91%95%E1%95%BC%E1%97%A9%E1%91%8Egi%E1%91%8Eg%E1%91%8E%E1%97%A9ke%E1%97%AA-tokyo-%E1%96%87e%E1%90%AF

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feeder86 · 7 months ago

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Guy and a Gain

“Sure, she’s cute. But she can’t give a decent blow job to save her life,” Guy shrugged, checking out the girls on the dancefloor with his football buddy, Rich.

“You’ve slept with her already?” Rich asked, always impressed by Guy’s prowess.

“Of course I have. Look at her. She’s the prettiest girl in here by far,” he nodded down at her. “But she has no instincts when it comes to giving head. She’s been my biggest disappointment since I arrived on campus.”

“I’m sure she could learn,” Rich shrugged, still taken with the girl. He was tall and broad and enough of a catch for her. However, he didn’t have the natural good looks, strapping build and height that made it so effortless for Guy to pick up whoever he wanted on a night out.

“If you want her, go buy her a drink,” Guy shrugged. “But I’m telling you, you’ll be disappointed. If it’s a decent blow job you’re after tonight, you can’t go wrong with a fat girl. They’re always out to please. Gay guys too - awesome at taking a dick in their mouth.”

“Dude!” Rich shot back, taking a step back in horror. “You’re telling me you’re gay?”

Guy laughed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He strapped his big arm over Rich’s shoulders and pulled him back in. “Don’t be that guy,” he stated warningly. “Not if you and I are going to be friends. It’s not the nineties. You hear what I’m saying?” he asked, turning his head to Rich. There was no denying which of them would win in a fight, so he wasn’t about to take some outdated homophobic shit just because the idiot came from some backwards ghost town in the midwest. “I love sex. And I stick my dick wherever it feels good. That’s just the kind of man I am.”

Rich seemed to get that he’d been out of line and he nodded respectfully. All the boys on the football team looked up to Guy, not just for his sporting capability and strength, but because he genuinely didn’t seem to give a crap about what others thought about him. He was smart and sharp; perfectly suited to the business degree he was studying. “So who’s given you the best time since we started college?” he asked.

“You’d be surprised,” Guy chuckled. “I have this skinny little geek in the room next to mine. You could tell he was a total virgin until I came along, but… fuck me! The boy is a natural when it comes to sucking. And so convenient, right next door. I don’t even have to knock.”

Rich nodded; his world view was a little less narrow than it had been a few minutes ago and he now seemed genuinely interested in his team mate’s extensive experiences in the bedroom. They chatted a bit more, until Guy saw the girl he wanted that night. Short, round and eyeing him like crazy. He’d give her a night she’d never forget!

“She was a bit of a noisy one last night,” Mikey grumbled, sliding into the kitchen area the next morning.

Guy laughed and tore a large bite out of his toast with his teeth. “Sorry, buddy,�� he laughed. “I forgot you nerds all go to bed at 9am.”

Mikey rolled his eyes and poured himself some cereal. It was rare that they ever got the kitchen space to themselves like this, but Guy was always up for his gym session, no matter what time he went to bed. He sat there, hunched at the breakfast bar, his damp clothes sticking to his enormously muscular body. Even unshowered and stinking of sweat like this, he knew he could still get his favorite neighbor, Mikey, to go down on him in a microsecond.

“I noticed you brought home another fat girl,” Mikey commented next, grabbing the last of his own fresh milk that Guy had left him, after downing most of it post-workout. “You’re making quite a habit of this.”

Guy rose to his feet and laughed, dropping his plate in the sink for Mikey to clean up after him and grabbing the boy by his hips from behind. “Spying on me, huh?” he whispered teasingly. The boy was at least half a foot shorter than him, melting the moment he was touched. “Jealous, perhaps?”

Mikey moaned as he felt Guy’s lustful hands slide into his crotch to check how hard he was. “I just thought…” he mumbled, “some people find it odd when athletes like you date the fat girls.”

“Because I really give a shit about what people think, don’t I?” Guy chuckled back, peeling back Mikey’s shorts so that his tight glutes were exposed. “I could fuck your skinny little ass later if you think it might balance things out a bit?” he teased. He strolled off to the refrigerator, leaving Mikey to cover himself back up before anyone else came in, perusing the shelf of food Mikey had bought for himself yesterday and seeing if there was anything he wanted to help himself to. “Just because you eat like a little sparrow...,” he sighed, seeing the boring items within and taking a large pot of yoghurt to eat in his bedroom, “... it doesn’t mean that everyone else has to.”

Later that evening, Guy lay back on Mikey’s bed, his head swirling from the intensity of the orgasm after shooting down his geeky neighbor’s throat. He’d never admit to his face how good Mikey was at this, but of the scores of people he had slept with since coming to college, Mikey was the only one he’d made a habit of going back to.

“How was that?” the keen boy asked; his eyes watering from having taken Guy so far down his throat.

“Average,” Guy lied, wishing the nerd would be quiet a few moments longer and allow him this period of pure bliss.

“Not like the fat girls you bring home with you then?” Mikey asked.

Guy opened his eyes and sighed, sitting up. “Are you still going on about that?” he grumbled, pulling his underwear back up his muscular legs and raising his butt to get them all the way up.

“I kinda wanted to ask you something?” Mikey tried next, in an oddly serious tone.

Again, Guy sighed impatiently. “What is it?”

“These fat girls you go after… do you ever get horny thinking about them… y’know… getting even fatter?”

Guy raised an eyebrow. What sort of an odd question was that? He shrugged his shoulders, deciding not to commit to an answer and see where the hell Mikey was going with this. “Why do you ask?”

Mikey seemed emboldened by Guy’s response, getting up from his kneeling position on the floor and sitting on the chair by his desk. “It’s just… sort of a fantasy of mine,” he explained.

“Me fucking fat chicks?” Guy asked sceptically? He realised he knew so little about what genuinely got Mike going.

“No. Not that,” he replied, shaking his head. “There’s just something so kinky and submissive about getting fat for someone; becoming soft and out of shape.”

Guy looked across, even more puzzled, despite doing his best to hide it. “You eat less food than anyone else I know,” he shot back. “You won’t be getting fat anytime soon!”

Mikey nodded, as if Guy had hit the nail right on the head. “Exactly!” he smiled. “Imagine if someone pushed me to get fat for them! If some dominant guy made me eat all the things that forced my body to grow and grow for his own pleasure. How fucking sexy would that be?”

Nodding, Guy considered the idea. “You’re definitely submissive enough,” he agreed, standing and pulling up his sweat shorts.

“You’re not going to tell anyone I told you that, are you?” Mikey asked, suddenly panicked.

“Who the fuck do you think would be interested?” Guy laughed. “People are allowed to have kinks, y’know? You need to lighten up a little!”

Mikey nodded back in agreement. Neither of them socialised within the same circles anyway. Guy was nothing if not liberal when it came to all things to do with sex. It was water off a duck’s back.

Mikey didn’t mention the subject the next time Guy went over for his servicing, despite being surprisingly chatty about his day afterwards. Guy listened out of a vague politeness as he stretched out on Mikey’s comfortable bed and watched the TV screen in the background. He could relax around Mikey. The guy didn’t take any of this too seriously and never got clingy or sentimental. Sex was sex.

In fact, it was only as Guy spotted Mikey in the corner at a frat house party, that he realised he had never actually seen Mikey outside of the dorms until then. Their lives were so disconnected, with the exception of the thin wall that separated their dorm rooms. He waved politely, following the other athletes through to the kitchen, where the usual fun and drinking games took place.

Later that evening, with a circle of women swarming around him, Guy looked over to see a boy looking in Mikey’s direction. Tall, slim and not unattractive, he gave Guy the distinct impression that he was interested in the nerdy boy. “Does anyone know who that one is?” Guy asked the girls.

“That’s just Aiden,” one replied. “He’s got a crush on that guy over there,” she pointed at Mikey. “They're on the same course together or something.”

Aiden? That name rang a bell. Guy was sure he’d heard that name mentioned by Mikey a few times in the past. It surprised him how little he had actually considered Mikey’s life outside of their casual fucking. Of course Mikey was going to pique someone else’s interest at some point. Guy wasn’t the type to get into a relationship, but perhaps Mikey would be. Then what would happen? No more awesome blow jobs for a start. Normal people weren’t good at sharing.

“Hey, Mikey!” Guy suddenly shouted from across the room, catching sight of Aiden moving in, as if to make his move. “Come grab a drink with me.”

Mikey smiled and diligently headed over. There, Guy wrapped a big arm over his slim shoulders and slipped a shot into his hand. Guy himself didn’t drink, never needing alcohol to make him fun at a party and refusing to fuck his training up with toxins that could impact his progress. There he stood, guarding the boy from any who may try to come near. Ten minutes was all they stayed after that, walking back to the dorms so that Aiden couldn’t sneak his way towards Mikey when Guy wasn’t looking.

“Are you coming in?” Guy asked, opening the door to his own bedroom and inviting Mikey inside.

“I’m honoured!” Mikey joked, having never been invited into Guy’s room before. He stepped over the threshold, into the dungeon of mess, sweat and sex.

The idea of Aiden had plagued Guy’s mind, suddenly making him realise just how much he had taken Mikey, and his awesome sucking skills, for granted. A gesture was required; a way to show the boy that his pleasure was important too. Guy stood in the middle of the room, planting his feet solidly and pulled the geek into him; kissing him passionately in an almost romantic manner. “Did you like that?” he grinned afterwards, knowing how well he could seduce when he wanted to. He pulled off his shirt and went in again, this time guiding Mikey’s hands to explore his muscular chest. He needed Mikey to know what an absolutely perfect specimen he was if the boy was going to be asked out by Aiden soon; let him see what he would be missing out on if he got into a relationship. “Let’s take off your clothes,” Guy whispered next, undressing Mikey himself until his pants and underwear fell around his feet and he stood there naked, erect and longing for him.

Mikey seemed to appreciate how different this all was. Guy was the first to admit that he never really put the effort in when it came to his sessions with the boy next door. Then, when Guy started sliding his large hand up and down Mikey’s hardness, the skinny boy moaned like he could climax at any time.

Guy had no intention of losing his fuck buddy. For the last hour, he’d been plotting how best to handle the situation, settling upon something he decided he could give Mikey better than anyone else. He threw open his closet door where a mirror rested on the other side, now reflecting Mikey perfectly back at himself.

“Who’s that skinny little shit in the mirror?” Guy teased him, looking like a monster of pure muscle stood behind him.

In the mirror, Mikey watched Guy’s hand slowly sliding up and down his hardness; his lust filled eyes half closed and his jaw slack.

“I want you to do something for me,” Guy whispered next. “I want you to drink my protein shakes,” he nodded backwards to the little minibar that also served as a bedside table for him. “Five hundred and eighty calories each,”

Mikey turned and looked up at him, as if the reflected version was merely a mirage. “You want me to drink all your shakes?” he asked, as if worried he had misunderstood.

“Yeah, I do…” Guy nodded down at him. “Every last drop.”

Guy could feel Mikey almost quivering with arousal. He bent down to his little fridge and popped the lid on one of his shakes.

“You know what these will do to you, right?” Guy grinned. “These aren’t made for skinny little dweebs like you. Boys who drink these and don’t exercise… they start to…” he whispered, keeping Mikey hanging on his every word. “...They start to get a little fat!””

Mikey nodded with absolute submission; his hands twitching to take the bottle from Guy’s large hand.

“Say goodbye to the skinny boy,” Guy laughed, nodding at the reflection once more, before twisting the mirror slightly so that the angle changed. Then he sat himself against the headboard of his bed. He spread his legs, pulling Mikey to sit into his crotch with his back resting against his strapping chest. Cleverly, Mikey could still see everything in the mirror as Guy’s hand rose up his neck, tipping his head back so that it rested on his muscular shoulder. Then those strong fingers pressed into Mikey’s cheeks, opening the jaws and turning Mikey’s mouth into the perfect pouring hole for the shake.

The mixture was cold. Guy took his time, adding a little at a time, as if making Mikey work for it. He theatrically rubbed the boy’s throat, like he was encouraging a good swallow; then went straight back to work on that aching erection. Once one bottle was down, Guy could reach with his giant arm span down into his minibar for the next, without even having to move Mikey. Then, down went another, and another.

“Can you see what’s happening?” Guy whispered, rubbing a hand over Mikey’s bloating stomach.

“It looks so big!” Mikey moaned back, with Guy having to pull his hand away from the boy’s erection once again in order to stop him climaxing.

“This is what you’re going to grow for me,” Guy demanded. “Every day, everything you eat… all for me.”

Mikey moaned so loudly now, it felt almost cruel to deny him his orgasm any longer. “Yes!” he nodded emphatically. “I swear. I absolutely swear!”

Guy only needed to touch him for a few seconds and the eruption that followed was more explosive than any he had ever seen a guy make. He looked at the splatter above the headboard behind them and chuckled. It was almost as high as he could get it himself. This was certainly a strange kink that Mikey had, but Guy felt that he had made his point well. No one was going to indulge this geek in his fantasies about weight gain; at least, not like Guy could. So why would Mikey need to look for connections anywhere else?

A few days later, Guy did a double take as he looked on Mikey's shelf in the refrigerator for food he could steal after his workout. Gone were the boring, sensible ingredients, replaced with high carb options, sugars and high fat dairy. Guy almost thought he was just confused, until he checked out the cupboard that Mikey kept for himself as well, finding a similar story. He frowned in confusion, wondering whether people had reorganised the kitchen space, until the encounter with Mikey nights before came back to him. Was the boy actually going to have a go at gaining a few pounds? How cute was that? But would this mean that Guy would have to buy more of his own food whilst Mikey was going through this little phase of his?

The normally fresh and clean smell of Mikey’s room was tainted by spices and the sweaty, grease stained food containers that piled up on the boy’s desk. Mikey himself looked bloated and sluggish, his stomach stretched so much that he was obviously in some discomfort. Guy looked down at him, trying to hold back a laugh. “Someone’s been enjoying himself!” he teased.

Mikey nodded. “If I’d have known you wanted to stop by tonight, I’d have saved the pizza so you could watch me eat it all for you.”

Guy wondered what on Earth Mikey expected him to get out of watching him eat a pizza. Was it supposed to be kinky? Like the protein shakes? Perhaps it was part of the submission aspect. All the same, it sounded more than a little dull. But this was Mikey’s kink and Guy was hardly about to shame him about it. On the contrary, how exciting that the otherwise vanilla boy was actually doing something that he genuinely found thrilling. “We’ll have a little fat belly on you in no time!” he smirked, reaching down to pat the clearly overstuffed stomach.

Like a flip switching in Mikey’s mind, the boy instantly became more aroused. Guy took notice, rubbing the stomach more and more, until Mikey finally fished out Guy’s boner and set his magic mouth to work.

“Have you seen Mikey recently?” asked Hannah, a former conquest of Guy's and the girl who lived across the hallway. “He’s seriously packed on the Freshman Fifteen.”

“You probably just saw him after he’d had a meal,” Guy replied knowingly. “He tends to eat a lot in one go. He gets bloated.”

Hannah shook her head, not accepting the excuse in the slightest. “This was first thing in the morning. He has actual love handles!” she stated emphatically.

Now it was Guy’s turn to shake his head. He’d only been in to play with Mikey a few days before the Spring Break and he hadn’t noticed any sign of love handles before then.

Hannah laughed. “Seriously!” she chuckled. “I’m not making this up.”

Guy marched down the corridor and knocked on Mikey’s door, making Hannah laugh as she stayed in the kitchen. “Wakey, wakey!” he called out, knowing that the boy was rarely up at this time on a Saturday. In the short space of time that it took a groggy Mikey to get out of bed, the door clicked unlocked and in Guy went, closing the door behind him. The dark, hunched form of Guy’s drowsy neighbor slipped straight back into bed. Instead, Guy strolled over to the window and threw them open dramatically. “Time to get up!” he teased.

As light flooded the room, Guy could see the mess of wrappers and containers that was testament to how much Mikey had been overfeeding himself since he arrived back on Wendesday night. He laughed to himself, picking up some of the mess and putting it on the boy’s desk. Then, knowing that it would frustrate Mikey, he reached for the duvet and yanked it away with full force, uncovering the entirely naked boy lying on his front underneath.

Guy’s eyes flew to the little rounded pads of flesh on Mikey’s side, the skin starting to crease and mark the area more clearly: love handles, without a shadow of a doubt. “Ho, ho!” he blasted in amusement. “Look at you!” he marvelled, reaching his big hand down onto his neighbor’s glute and finding it was squishy and significantly bouncier, with clearly added mass to it. “Someone is actually getting chubby!” he teased, absolutely astonished with the difference. That skinny little ass was gone, replaced with something much more meaty and even a little feminine.

Despite his tiredness, Mikey wrigged with arousal at the touch as Guy began playing with the softness that even spread down into his thighs. He rolled over; his erection already sizable as he tried to open his eyes and look towards Guy, even with the harsh light coming in through the window behind him.

What was happening to Mikey’s chest? Guy inspected further. The nipples seemed softer and the blubbery build up in the boy’s love handles was further spread across his stomach, deepening his belly button. “Stand up,” Guy demanded. “I want to look at you properly.”

Mikey did as he was told, Guy placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, guiding him over to the mirror, so that he could see all angles at once.

“Fuck!” Guy laughed, seeing what a transformation had been silently happening behind his back. He felt proud. The biggest complaint people had about Mikey, here in the dorms, was that he was a fairly dull and boring person. Well, look at him now! This was hardly boring. The kinky little fucker was actually doing something none of them would ever have the guts to do. “I’m pleased,” Guy told him honestly, looking at his face in the reflection. “How does it feel for you?”

At this Mikey’s hands began exploring himself, grabbing at the fat and jiggling where he could with the tips of his fingers. “Amazing!” he whispered back, bursting with arousal.

“Well then…” Guy smiled, placing his hand back on Mikey’s chubby glute: his favorite new feature by far. “...You have to keep going,” he stated. “Keep eating and eating. Add more and more fresh fat onto this frame of yours.”

“I will,” Mikey nodded back obediently. “If it’s what you want. I’ll keep going as far as I can!”

Guy had never seen Mikey’s dick dribbling with arousal so easily. If this weight gain and submission was what aroused him so much, there was no way he could let it stop. “It’s what I want,” Guy agreed. “I want you to grow a proper fat belly, just for me.”

The pair kissed. Guy had never felt Mikey moan and collapse into him quite so much; like a ragdoll, ready to be played with.

“I know what’ll help…” Guy laughed, pulling down his pants and tugging on his own semi-erection until it was pumped and hard. “Let’s lubricate your throat ready for a full day of eating,” he joked cheekily.

Immediately, Mikey slipped to his knees. His jaws opened and he hungrily took the whole of Guy’s enormous erection down his throat like no one else on campus could. It took Guy by surprise each time, how instantaneous the pleasure was. He had to spread his legs a little more and reach one hand out to steady himself on the wall for fear that he may fall over. He didn’t need to press Mikey’s head into his crotch. The boy needed no guidance in the slightest. It was all just so perfect.

An involuntary moan escaped Guy’s lips. Now that his fuck buddy was getting fat, he wouldn’t have to worry about someone trying to steal him away. Mikey’s mouth was all his.

No one on campus was aware that Guy and Mikey were anything more than casual acquaintances, and so no one was cautious about discussing Mikey weight gain around Guy. The overall feeling was one of amusement. In many ways, it was understandable. Mikey had indeed been incredibly thin at the start of the year and he was heading towards the summer looking significantly softer and padded. For the most part, Guy simply ignored it, or tried to move the conversations away. He wasn’t about the campus drama and the behind the scenes bad-mouthing like some of the others. Sure, people were going to talk, but they didn’t have the full story in the same way that Guy did.

The final football game of the season arrived and Guy was pumped for it. He didn’t get nervous like the others seemed to. He was also bigger than everyone else on the field, not weighed down by excess weight, making him lighter on his feet than the opposition ever expected from him. He’d been buzzing the entire morning, heading to the gym for a full session despite the advice from his coach to rest that morning. He simply had too much energy to spare. He knocked on Mikey’s door wondering whether the boy was up for a little fun before he had to leave. Unlike everyone else in the dorms, Mikey never came down to the games. He simply wasn’t into sports, and that was fair enough. In fact, Mikey seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that it was even taking place that day, answering the door and ushering Guy inside excitedly.

“Look what I bought!” the chubby boy smiled, leading Guy over to his desk where a large, round cake sat waiting for a party of twenty people to come in and start feasting upon it. “I’m going to try and eat it all this afternoon!” he beamed.

Guy chuckled to himself, seeing the erection already pressing against Mikey’s sweatshorts. “You go for it, buddy!” he smiled, clapping the boy on his back. His enthusiasm for overeating and putting on weight was almost infectious at times. He lifted the plastic lid and swept his finger around the edge, gathering a decent amount of cream which Mikey excitedly sucked off.

“Do you want to feed it to me?” Mikey asked, pulling his shirt off to reveal his softening torso.

Inwardly, Guy sighed with disappointment. How long would that take? He had to leave in twenty minutes or so, and if Mikey’s mouth was going to be occupied that entire time, there was no chance of a quick blow job.

“How about…” Guy began, lifting his own shirt off and dropping his shorts and underwear, “...we both have a little fun at the same time?”

“What did you have in mind?” Mikey asked, watching as Guy pulled out the lubricant from the drawer and squirted it into his hand.

Guy looked down at him with a smirk. Then he reached a hand into Mikey’s crack and began preparing the area, making the boy moan with arousal as his large fingers brushed and gently penetrated. Mikey pulled down his underwear to help him and was soon leaning into it so much that Guy could give him a decent warm up.

Having a firm press down on his back, Mikey obediently slipped onto all fours. Guy reached for the cake and placed it underneath the boy’s face. “Ready?” he asked, reaching for Mikey’s jaw, as if loosening it up for better movement and stretch.

Mikey’s eyes were on the prize. His head was lowered down into it, perhaps more than he was expecting, his nose now pressing into the sponge and his tongue lapping it all up with ferocious speed.

Guy assumed his position, grabbing a condom, sliding his hardness into Mikey’s gaping butt and sighing with pleasure. As blessed as most people told him he was with such a large dick, Guy found he was rarely allowed to settle into his own good rhythm when penetrating. There was simply too much of him to handle. WIth Mikey, however, the boy just seemed to relax so much, it was like total freedom for Guy. After wincing the initial time they had tried this, Mikey took to it with ease. He was the only one Guy could properly deliver what he referred to as a ‘thorough pounding’.

Through the mirror, Guy could see that Mikey’s face was now covered in cake as he tried to gorge himself at the same time as his body was getting pumped from behind. Guy laughed, happy to take the control that Mikey offered up so willingly. “Come on!” he chuckled. “You can do better than that!” he called out encouragingly, seeing Mikey’s tongue scrabbling about trying to lick up as much as he could.

The fat on Mikey’s back had really come a long way since they had last done this. The love handles in particular seemed to ripple and bounce out of sync with the rest of his body. The bones in his shoulder blades were less severe and an emerging softness appeared to be forming just under his arms. However, the boy’s butt was the centerpiece; the way it was spread so wide and felt so much softer to the touch as Guy gripped on.

A moan started emanating from Mikey. In the mirror, his eyes were rolling up into his head. He began oinking - actually oinking, as he continued to gorge himself. Guy sped up. There was nothing he got off to more than seeing someone else genuinely getting lost in the moment. Mikey was letting go like never before.

“That’s it!” Guy cried out. “Oink like a pig!”

Without even a hand anywhere near his own hardness, it was obvious that Mikey was climaxing. His face fell upon the cake and he groaned louder than he ever had during sex before. The whole thing made the pleasure build upon Guy with rapid speed; almost taken by surprise as he felt himself squirt.

Guy wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed in relief. He’d rarely felt so completely satisfied before. He pulled out, stopping only momentarily to chuckle at the wide, gaping hole he left behind, then unpeeled the condom and began dressing himself. The mess was everywhere, cake smashed into the carpet that would take some time to scrub out.

“Thanks for that,” Guy smiled, looking down at the fat boy who had rolled onto his doughy rear and not even attempted to clean any of the cake off his face yet. He too seemed to be enjoying momentary bliss, grabbing at the first roll of his fattened stomach like it was the most precious thing in the world. Guy’s work was done here.

During the summer months, Guy had sweet talked his way into an internship with a local company, hoping to boost his CV for when he finished his degree in a further two years. He didn’t need to be told that his pretty face would be an asset for the company, but he was surprised at how much more he was interacting with the clients than the others in his position. A well fitting shirt and a tight pair of pants never failed to make things easier for him to charm pretty much everyone he was around. Already, he could see how well suited he was to business; his boss realising what a force to be reckoned with Guy could one day become. "This guy is going to take over the world one day!" she'd laughed as Guy pulled in new clients from a sponsorship event that he had organised entirely by himself.

Guy had also briefly dated a couple of girls, wanting to experience the steamy ‘summer love’ of his old high school days. However, he still had no intentions of settling down for anyone. Not a chance!

Mikey, meanwhile, had taken a job at a fast food restaurant back in his hometown; returning to campus that year looking like he hadn’t stopped eating the entire time. Quite a few of them had applied to stay in the dorms and been successful, but there was still plenty of fresh meat for Guy to enjoy about the place.

Guy remembered being quite taken aback when he saw the full stomach on Mikey after their time apart. It had morphed from a tight paunch to a full starter gut, complete with pointed and juicy-looking nipples. Had the boy seriously eaten nothing but fast food all summer? A simple rub of Mikey’s stomach or jiggle of his fleshy rear never failed to get the new chub horny, and Guy was all in for that. He thought back to the previous year and how forward he’d had to be with shy Mikey just to let him know that he was interested. Sex had not been a part of Mikey’s life before then, and now look at him: his entire body turned into a playhouse of his kinkiest sexual fantasies! Guy felt nothing but pride.

“You knew Mikey from last year, right?” asked Samantha, a clearly high-maintenance fresher girl who had moved in last week. “Maybe you can get through to him.”

“Why?” Guy asked, wondering what seemed to be so urgent.

“You need to let him know that we don’t want to see his belly hanging out anymore. He’s just bent down into the refrigerator and I had about four inches of his butt crack staring back at me!”

Guy laughed. “Is that all?” he sighed in relief. “I thought something was wrong.”

Samantha exhaled in shock. “Something is wrong!” she blasted. “He can’t be allowed to keep walking around in clothes that are that tight! It’s disgusting!”

“Leave him be,” Guy shrugged. “You don’t need to be around him if you don’t want to.”

“There are some guys who make fun of him on his course,” Samantha pressed on. “If he’d just wear a damn sweatshirt or something to try and make himself look like less of a target, I’m sure they’d leave him alone.”

At this, Guy stood up from his chair, suddenly filled with anger. “Who’s been making fun of him?” he demanded, ready to go and see to them, right there and then.

“Mikey is the one who needs speaking to!” Samantha shot back. “Go ask him who the guys are. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Shaking his head with annoyance, Guy stormed down the corridor and let himself into Mikey’s room without even knocking. The boy was sitting at his desk, still pushing a large tray of cream cakes he had collected from the refrigerator when he had offended Samantha so much. He turned in surprise, seeing Guy bursting in on him like this.

“Who’s making fun of you on your course?” Guy asked, closing the door behind him.

Mikey smiled; his chubby cheeks and chin showing all the more. “Oh, you heard about that?” he chuckled. “A couple of the new freshmen: Dan and Alec.”

“You’ll need to point them out to me,” Guy demanded, clearly annoyed. “I’ll soon sort them out.”

Mikey’s face was one of pure amusement. “Not everything is a problem that needs fixing,” he simply replied, pushing a cream cake into his mouth.

“What is it they say to you?” Guy pressed on.

Mikey chewed and swallowed. “Oh, lots of things!” he giggled. “Fat Boy, Pig, Piggy, Lardass!”

Guy could feel his heart beating faster with frustration However, Mikey seemed entirely relaxed and happy. “Wait a minute…” Guy stopped him. “Is this one of those things..?” he pondered. “Are you… Do you get off on this? The guys treating you that way?”

Mikey raised his eyebrows cheekily, not needing to say anything further.

“That’s why your clothes are so tight this year, isn’t it? You actually want people to comment?” Guy asked next, feeling like he had delved further than ever before into the mind of his part-time lover.

Again, Mikey only pressed a cake into his mouth and smirked.

Guy felt all the pent-up frustration in him release. A great wave of affection for Mikey swept through him and he reached out a hand to pull the chubby boy up from his chair, leaning him back into his great arms like he was trying to seduce him all over again. “You’re the kinkiest little fucker I’ve ever come across,” he smiled with delight. “You know that right?”

Mikey swallowed and grinned back. “You started this,” he stated, rubbing his easily accessible belly fat as his overly short t-shirt rode up.

Guy looked down at the boy’s gut and nodded. “I sure did!” he teased. “And what a good piggy you’ve turned out to be!” he smirked, trying the word out now he knew a little more about how it excited Mikey.

The chub seemed to melt into him further. They kissed and then quickly undressed for the inevitable.

The Spring was upon them once again as Guy invited Mikey over to his room for a quiet evening together. Mikey always seemed more aroused to be in Guy’s room for whatever reason. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Guy had fucked and pleasured so many people between those sheets of his. The large athlete was sitting propped up against the headboard, romantically caressing Mikey as he leant against his naked chest and watched a movie with him.

Watching movies was not usually Guy’s thing. He’d often been accused of having an attention difficulty in school, making him restless and troublesome in class, despite the high grades he always came away with. But here, with Mikey, Guy felt complete relaxation, rubbing that fat stomach that had been grown for him and laughing together at the funny parts of the picture.

“There’s actually a gainer event happening not too far away in a couple of months,” Mikey explained, scrolling through his cell phone.

“When is it?” Guy asked. “I can take you.”

Mikey mumbled nervously. “I’m not so sure it’s my thing…” he fretted. “I’d be too nervous.”

At this, Guy laughed. “Nervous? You?” He rubbed Mikey’s large stomach. The boy was now a full one hundred and twenty pounds heavier than he had been when the pair met over eighteen months ago, standing at a full two hundred and sixty pounds despite his fairly average height. He’d battled name-calling, family disapproval and public wardrobe malfunctions aplenty. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

Again, Mikey grumbled in disagreement.

Guy quickly did an internet search on his cell phone and found it himself. “There!” he declared a minute later, putting his cell phone back on the bed beside him. “Two tickets. One for me, and one for my lardass!” he teased, kissing Mikey on the back of his head and squeezing him once more. “I’lll book us a nice hotel later too.” Picking up a few modelling jobs had definitely helped make Guy’s life a little easier of late, and there was no one who deserved a treat more.

As the date approached, Mikey had gone into a frenzy of calorie consuming, determined to look the part for a gainer event. The boy was just a frustrating couple of pounds shy of three hundred when Guy took his chubby little hand and led him inside.

Guy had never seen so many huge men in the same room and they eyed him suspiciously until they saw that his hand was placed appreciatively on Mikey’s broad butt as they stood to the side of the dancefloor.

“There are still quite a few small guys,” Guy whispered to Mikey, who had been worried about not being fat enough for weeks. “A few dad bods with only a little gut to show for themselves.”

Mikey nodded, feeling better and more relaxed as others started coming up to them, wanting to know their story.

“That person’s been checking you out all night,” Guy nodded over at a slender and handsome man in the corner.

“No he hasn’t,” Mikey shot back.

“Trust me, when people aren’t checking me out, I notice,” Guy replied. “He’s definitely interested in you.”

Mikey smiled, rather flattered.

“Who knows, he might be open to a little…” Guy winked, having learned recently that Mikey had a small fantasy about having a threesome. Guy waved his arm and beckoned the man over to them, despite Mikey’s nervous protests.

The admirer introduced himself as Henry and he admitted to having attended plenty of these types of events in the last few years. “What’s your weight?” he asked Mikey; an outrageous question in any other circumstances but these.

Guy jumped in to answer. “He’s just hit three-twenty,” he lied. He was only one hundred and forty pounds two years ago.”

“That’s impressive!” Henry nodded, clearly more interested than ever.

“He’s been a high achiever his whole life,” Guy smiled, wrapping his strong large arm over Mikey’s shoulders with pride.

Henry wanted to know more about their situation and circumstances. Were they an item? Was it casual? Was Guy really a feeder? But when the time came to ask him if he wanted to come back to the hotel with them, Henry did not decline. They stopped for takeout on the way, with Henry very clearly getting off on how much Mikey was able to eat: being so assertive with the chub, clearly setting high expectations from the start. Then they all headed back, making every pleasurable second all about Mikey; just as he deserved.

At the end of another summer, Guy and Mikey embarked upon their final year of college. Mikey’s weight had continued to creep up, with his face now properly framed by a large double chin and his upper arms finally starting to puff up and broaden him up a bit.

“I actually met up with Henry a couple of times this summer,” Mikey explained casually as the pair of them lay awkwardly facing each other on the narrow single bed in Guy’s room.

Guy instantly felt ashamed of the giant wave of jealousy that washed over him. He’d slept with a countless number of people during their casual sex games of the last two years, yet he begrudged Mikey even this little thing in return. Still, he tried not to show his feelings, diligently asking questions and smiling encouragingly, as if this was all positive news.

“Henry really knows how to push me to eat,” Mikey went on. “I’ve never eaten as much in my life! And it was all the type of stuff that he knew would only make me fatter.”

Guy nodded, concealing the inadequacy he felt. He’d never really been what Mikey had wanted. He only knew the absolute basics of the feedism kink Mikey was so into and had, for the most part, got away without having to sit through many of the tedious feeding sessions Mikey seemed to enjoy so much. This whole affair with Mikey had started because Guy hadn’t wanted anyone to take the champion blow-job boy away from him, yet he had unknowingly opened the floodgates during that fairly average threesome he had been a part of back at the gainer event. “Are you meeting up with him again?” he asked casually.

“He’s coming here in December,” Mikey squeaked excitedly. “But he’s given me strict instructions to continue to eat and grow before then. I honestly think he wants me to be absolutely huge!”

Guy smiled back at him, despite the sadness he felt. Mikey was undoubtedly slipping away from him.

That December, Guy had been away with the football team during the weekend of Henry’s visit. Even so, Mikey’s weight had continued to increase at an almost alarming rate, both before and after the feeder had called over. It had been spurred on by the many messages and video calls the pair had made, despite the great geographical distance between them. Guy had so many other things on his mind, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him, but he was never fully successful. Mikey himself was now entirely unrecognisable, coated with giant amounts of fat all over his body. His frame had widened, with fat spilling out from his round gut and his nipples sagging right onto his swollen midsection. He walked slowly about the campus, usually carrying a backpack filled with fattening supplies from the nearby supermarket in order to further his weight gain. Likewise, Henry had begun ordering fast food to the dorms, increasing Mikey’s intake even more and ensuring that the boy had surpassed three hundred and eighty pounds by April.

Guy knew that he couldn’t get away with avoiding Henry a second time when he stopped by for an entire week that Spring, just before the final exam season got underway. The conversation was polite, but it was obvious that Henry wanted more time alone with Mikey, rather than having Guy tagging along.

“Let’s be real…” Henry stated at the end of the week, taking advantage of the fact that Mikey had gone to the bathroom at the restaurant he was treating the two of them to a meal at. “You’re not actually a feeder, are you?”

“What does that matter?” Guy shrugged. “I’ve done pretty well getting Mikey’s weight up. He would still be that skinny little twig if it wasn’t for me.”

Henry shook his head and laughed. “No he wouldn’t!” he replied dismissively. “Mikey is a fat boy, through and through! I’ve never come across anyone like him. If you hadn’t been there, he would have found some other excuse to start piling the pounds on. It’s just in him. He’s meant to be absolutely enormous.”

Guy didn’t have a response. In reality, he’d known as much from the very beginning. Mikey had never needed much encouragement to overeat, and he’d always seemed propelled to fatten by some force greater than a basic kinky subservience kink to Guy himself.

“I’m going to ask him to move with me to Phoenix when he finishes college next month,” Henry announced; his tone one of uncompromising assertiveness.

“Phoenix?” Guy gasped in alarm. “But I’ll never see him!”

“What the hell did you think he was going to do when he finished college? You’ve got a job lined up here in the city, but what is there for Mikey? He doesn’t have any family here. You really expected him to just hang around for you?”

Guy exhaled, knowing that they couldn’t carry the conversation on with the fattened Mikey trotting back towards the table. He ground his teeth together, wondering how best to fight this plan to uproot Mikey’s entire life and move him to Phoenix. But then he witnessed the boy’s delight the next day as Henry made the offer, and witnessed the tears days later as Henry had to leave him once more. It was over. Mikey had found the one he was really meant to be with.

“You’ll come and visit me, right?” Mikey asked as Guy dropped the last of Mikey’s stuff in the back of Henry’s truck a few weeks later.

“Of course I will,” Guy nodded, trying to hold back on how cut up he felt that his time with Mikey was now over. “Just you try and stop me!”

The pair hugged warmly.

Next, Henry came up and shook Guy’s hand. Despite the silent animosity between them, there was an air of respect. Henry had been right, after all. Mikey needed a lot more than Guy could give him. This was the life that the fat boy coveted and deserved. But Henry was no idiot either. He knew what Guy was giving up; that he had fallen in love with the boy, and that his love was not returned; at least, not in the same way.

“Come on, Fatso!” Henry smiled, patting Mikey on his wide, blubbery butt. “We’d best hit the road.”

Guy stood looking into the distance long after the truck went out of sight. One very massive chapter of his life had just ended, and another was about to begin.

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay feedee #gayfeeder #gainerstories #gainer story #gainerfic #gayfeedee #gainerstory #gainer fic

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faith-forgxtten-land · 1 year ago

Text

Come to Bed | Donatello

this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!

warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!

summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)

word count: 2411

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.

Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.

He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”

The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”

Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”

You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”

“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.

“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.

“I can explain.”

“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”

He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”

“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.

It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.

You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.

“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.”

Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”

You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“Well—”

“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”

“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.

You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.

“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.

“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”

Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you.

“Please,” he whimpers.

You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”

“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.

“Keep going.”

He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”

Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.

“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead.

“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”

He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”

“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.

His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”

Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.

“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”

He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.

You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”

He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.

Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.

“Please.”

As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.

You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.

The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.

A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.

“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”

“Please, what?”

His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”

You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”

There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling.

It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.

The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.

Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.

“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.

“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him.

You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully.

Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.

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n30n-l1ghts · 6 months ago

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Tokyo revengers basic NSFW headcannons pt. 1

characters- Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, Baji, Kazutora, Chifuyu, Hakkai, Nahoya, Souya, Hanma, Kisaki

Read the second part here

Proofread by my lovely partner @nxll-n4m3

Mikey-

Packing a respectable 5.8 inches, with a light pink tip and a couple of small bluish purple vains that aren't really noticeable unless he's painfully hard, he doesn't really curve to one side or the other, but he has a subtle upward curve. He doesn't strike me as the type who tries too hard with grooming, but he at least tries every now and again. But the hairs down there are the same pretty strawberry blonde as his hair, pretty thin and a little wispy with a slight curl towards the end.

Draken-

PUH-LEASE. This boy is fucking HUNG and he knows how to use it too. Curves hard left as well. He doesn't have the most experience as I can't imagine him sleeping around much, but he's heard the girls at the brothel complain enough that he generally knows what to do and what not to do. 7.9 inches holy GAWD. I think he stays pretty on top of grooming, manscapes at least once every other week. Also blonde, but I think he's got more curls than Mikey. Definitely a lot thicker. Also, completely random, but I feel like he'd totally fuck with coconut body wash and shampoo.

Mitsuya-

Another man who's got a rather mid-sized length, I'd say probably like 5.4. The prettiest pinkish lavender tip, and oh my god I mean it when I say this man's cock is beautiful. It deserves to be worshipped. Not all that big, BUT he makes up for it by knowing all the sweet spots. Not to mention he's the KING of foreplay and aftercare. He for sure stays on top of his grooming game, he can't stand feeling like he looks sloppy. He's got a pretty tuft of curly white hair right at the base of his dick, very well maintained and usually actually smells pretty good. Again, this man is on top of his hiegene and he wants all of him to smell good and look good at all times. (Not that he could ever look bad)

Baji-

I'd guess about 6.3 in size for him, and his tip is red and angry like his face (I'm joking. Mostly, but he does get painfully hard very quickly) there's a thick ass pinkish vein that runs from base to tip, and he will full body shiver if you lick the whole thing. I'm sorry, but I cannot for the life of me imagine that this man gives a singular fuck about grooming down under. He might trim a little or shave on occasion, but that's only if it gets annoying. However, his hair is effortlessly shiny and beautiful no matter where it is on his body. I have no idea how he does it. But, if it bugs you, he would (begrudgingly) start manscaping more often.

Kazutora-

LITTLE DICK SUPREMACY

Okay- little known fact, but I kind of have a thing for subby guys with little dicks, that and I want to give some variety so I'm not making them all unrealistically huge. So I'm gonna say this man sits at about 4.2. Not rediculously small, but definitely not big either. But it's okay, because he'd much rather be under you anyways. Slightly unrelated but this boy has trust issues so please be kind to him, hold his hand and tell him how good he's being, he will absolutely start crying. Never really even thought about his hair down there, never paid any mind to it, and probably wouldn't unless you brought it up. But I see him being super understanding and chill with it if you want him to groom more often.

Chifuyu-

Another one on the slightly smaller side, probably only around 4.5 to 4.6 with a sort of muted pink tip. He's actually kind of self conscious about it, so he's a bit sensitive if you make fun of him for it, but he'll fold instantly if you praise him in any way, shape, or form. I feel like he's the type to get all embarrassed and blushy super easily despite trying to play it cool. Would not admit he's a bottom out loud but everyone can pretty much tell anyways. Honestly pretty clean, I feel like pubes might bug him. He might try to keep a small tuft down there just because he feels it's more masculine, but I'd reckon he'd prefer it clean shaven. Less of a hassle and it doesn't get on his nerves that way.

Hakkai-

Oh, this poor sweet boy. So much dick that he has no idea how to use 🥺 I can't imagine him topping for the life of me, so it's almost adorable how his monstrous 8.3 inches just hangs there uselessly hanging as he gets pounded into his next life, squealing like a little bitch, whimpering and whining and pleading and- *AHEM* anyways. I imagine he's pretty alright with grooming, mostly because he super looks up to Mitsuya, who had told him at some point or another that it was important to look clean everywhere. But I don't think he's quite that good at manscaping though to his credit, he does at least try. He's got a decent sized tuft of thick, curly black hair that he trims maybe once a month or so when he remembers. But he'd get better about it in a heartbeat if you asked him to and gave him some basic block of instruction. Smells like vanilla though, so there's that.

Nahoya-

Nahoya's got a relatively solid 6.2, with a slight curve to the left and a pale tip. I feel like he'd probably be more experienced with it than his brother, even though his twin is a little bigger. He just strikes me as much more of the playboy type. (Probably gets hard after a good fight, I don't make the rules) super duper curly hair down there, ginger just like the hair on his head. Probably keeps it moderately well groomed. Enough to be presentable for the ladies (and the lads-)

Souya-

Similar to his brother (no shit they're identical twins) but with slight differences. For starters, he's ever so slightly bigger, measuring up to about 6.6, and he curves pretty hard right instead of slight left. He's not too experienced, but he strikes me as a rather quick learner. He doesn't normally care to groom all that much, but after getting into a relationship, especially if you guys are sexually active, he will actually start to manscape on occasion. Also super duper curly hair, but it's light blue instead of ginger, again matching his hair.

Hanma-

(Definitely gets INSTANTLY rock hard after a good fight, I don't make the rules) 7.9, same as Draken, difference is that Hanma has less girth. A tall, skinny dick for a tall, skinny boy. But he knows how to break you and he will go hard when he's domming. Or alternatively, when he's in the mood to sub, he gets a little bratty (just give his cock a rough squeeze and he'll shut right up) dark brown almost black hair, thick and curly. Contrary to popular belief I feel like he would put at least some effort into grooming, though he does forget sometimes.

Kisaki-

Oh, this boy. Solid middle of the road (just like his height- jk this boy short asf) but I think he'd have maybe around a 5.3 or 5.4 length wise. Pretty average around too, not particularly skinny but not particularly girthy either. Would absolutely fight you for dominance every time, and lose every time. This boy would rather die than ever admit he's a bottom, and he's 100% a brat until you edge him to the point he's sobbing. DEFINITELY clean. Well kept, grooms just about every day to every other day, and I feel like there's a fifty fifty chance he also dyes his pubes blonde. I can see him doing that. But this man hates being dirty at all. And tell me why I feel like his hipster ass smells like pumpkin spice all year round? All in all, a well kept, bratty little bitch.

#Mikey x reader #Draken x reader #Mitsuya x reader #Baji x reader #Kazutora x reader #Chifuyu x reader #Hakkai x reader #Nahoya x reader #Souya x reader #Kawata twins x reader #Hanma x reader #Kisaki x reader #Tokyo revengers headcannons #tr x reader #tokyo rev x male reader #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut

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silens-oro · 1 month ago

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You Know Where You Are: Part I

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Musician!Reader Angst/Established Relationship Part II | Part III

The Pitt Playlist located here The Pitt Masterlist

Synopsis: Dr. Robby's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day started before he even made it to PTMC. He was supposed to go to Pittfest to support his girlfriend's band with Jake, but decided to flake and give his ticket to Jake's girlfriend. You are less than thrilled with his lack of communication. Word Count: 965 Content Warning: Arguing; Reader is in her 30's A/N: This will be a three-parter.

“Why is an alarm going off?” You grumbled into Robby’s warm chest as the jingle from his phone repeated itself. Robby groaned as he reached over to the nightstand to turn it off. He was silent for a few beats, his other hand coming up to rub your back gently. “Mikey?”

“I’m goin’ in today.” He mumbled into the crown of your head.

“You’re what?” Sitting up in a hurry, you pushed yourself off him, but kept your eyes pinpointed on his. Michael was looking anywhere else in the room but at you. “No. No, Mike! You said you weren’t going to do this.”

“I know.” He responded gently, his eyes breaking from yours.

“You know.” Scoffing, you started to get off the bed, but was stopped by his hand gently grabbing your thigh, squeezing it in a way that told you he did not want this to get blown into an argument. Not today. “What about Jake? You can’t just ditch him.”

“Giving him my pass for his girlfriend. They’ll have a blast and apparently she’s a huge fan of you guys.” He tried to soften the blow. All it did was build the irritation that was growing inside of you.

“And me?” Your question hung in the air.

“I’m sorry.”

“Absolutely not.” Gently prying his hand off your leg, you stood and threw on some random clothes he had in the second drawer that housed various t-shirts, jeans and leggings that you’d left over time. “Genuinely don’t know what I was expecting.” You muttered under your breath as you pulled a t-shirt over your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He had the nerve to sound indignant.

“It means that I am a very reasonable person who rolls with the punches when it comes to you, but god forbid something on my end -pre planned well in advance, mind you- is important to me and it gets thrown by the wayside.”

“Today is-” You held up your hand to stop him.

“-I know what today is.” Your voice took on a somber tone. “And I am so incredibly sorry that you have to carry this with you, Mike. I am. I love you and I support you wholeheartedly, but you obviously knew you were going to do this well before this morning and you chose not to tell me. A heads up is all that I’m asking for here.”

“Had I known missing this set was going to be a huge deal-”

“It’s not about the set!” Your voice rose. “I don’t care about the set, Mike! My life is set after set. I cared about spending time with you and Jake. The set is an hour out of my day. Both of us are stupidly busy people with demanding careers who don’t get to see a whole lot of each other outside of some quick takeout and going to bed -if we’re even in the same state!” It wasn’t meant to be a jab, but Robby felt it all the same.

“You’ve never had a problem with me having to cancel for work.” His voice was starting to get an irritated tone to it, one that you knew he knew he was wrong, but was doubling down.

“That’s not what this is!” You snapped, “I’m not mad because you get called in to work, Mike! You did this on purpose. They didn’t call you in, you are choosing to go in on a day that you already arranged to have off for no other reason than you won’t communicate!” He winced -you don’t communicate was repeated like a broken record through just about every failed relationship he had. “I don’t understand how you don’t see why I’m frustrated with this and, quite frankly, it’s pissing me off even more than I was to begin with because I can’t tell if you know what you’re doing or if this is just a defensive reflex!”

Grabbing your phone off the nightstand on your side, you sighed when you saw how early it actually was. Deciding that removing yourself from Mike’s townhouse was the best option so you could cool off without figuratively ripping his head from his body, you grabbed your purse off his dresser.

“Where are you going?” Mike stood from the bed, pajama pants hanging low in his hips. There was clear panic in his eyes, but he couldn’t navigate himself out of the hole he had dug himself.

“Back to my place.” You didn’t bother to untie your sneakers as you shoved your feet into them, pulling roughly until they popped on.

“Come on,” He said your name softly, “-please just get back into bed-”

“Why?” You snapped, “You’re getting ready for work and I don’t have a reason to be here right now.” Mike winced, then inhaled deeply before nodding -not to agree with you, but to process the words that you just said to him.

“You don’t need a reason to be here.” He was nearly begging. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from going off the deep end.

“Fine, I don’t want to be here.” You ground out. And truthfully, you didn’t. Anger was a rarity coming from you -life happens- but this wasn’t “life happens”. This was “Robby happens” and when Robby happens...you shook your head.

“You coming back here tonight?” He knew it was a long shot, but he asked anyway.

“You know, Mike…” You shrugged, exasperated, arms swinging out from your sides, “-probably not.” Done with the conversation you left the bedroom, angry that this was how the day -a day that was supposed to be fun and a distraction from the shit Mike deals with- started in a fiery blaze.

“Don’t-” Not bothering to hear his response as you fled through the townhouse, you let the door slam closed behind you.

Part II

Please reblog, like and/or comment :)

#the pitt #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch #the pitt imagine #dr robby imagine #x reader

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firstdivisiongirl · 9 months ago

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can i request headcanons for Tokyo revenger; draken, Mikey, mistuya and baji in a scenario where they're walking and a random girl (reader) walks up to them and begs them to pretend they know her because she thinks shes being followed?

(Bonus if reader isn't from japan and just moved there so her language skills aren't that great)

Hi there. This was so cute! So, the only one I did not write for is Mikey. I might eventually write one for Mikey and maybe a few other characters. I made the reader for Mitsuya and Draken foreign, but not Baji's. Idk why I did that but it kind of happened? Anyways, sorry for rambling. Thank you for the request and please enjoy!

Trigger Warning: Stalking

Baji, Mitsuya and Draken Helping Out a Female Reader When They Feel Uncomfortable

Baji:

Baji is a true gentleman

I know right! Shocker

You were walking home late one night from the supermarket because you needed something to eat and you had nothing at home

You felt these eyes on you

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a man following you

He walked a little faster and faster, but you still felt like you were being followed

Suddenly, you saw this guy, about your age with beautiful long black hair

You walked up to him and asked him quietly if he would just pretend to be with you

You explained that you felt like you were being followed and were scared

Baji immediately looked around and then grabbed your hand.

The man walked away thinking you two were a couple

He asked where you lived and he took drove you home on his motorcycle that was parked not far from where you two were

When you arrived home, he gave you his number

He said if you ever needed to run an errand late at night or felt uncomfortable ever to just call him and he would be there for you

Mama Baji would be proud of her son

And you were happy to have a new friend

Mitsuya:

Another gentleman in Toman

You were new to Tokyo

Really Japan in general

Ever since you moved to Tokyo, you worked late at night at a convenience store so that you could earn extra money to help out the family and take care of your younger siblings

One night on the way home, you just had this bad feeling

You felt like you were being watched

Which was only made worse when you saw a mysterious figure behind you

But suddenly, you saw this boy

He had silver hair and an earring in his left ear

You walked up to him and tried to tell him what was going on

Sadly, your Japanese wasn’t great

He tried to follow, but he was having trouble

Suddenly, a few words clicked and he figured out you were being followed and you wanted him to pretend to know you

He grabbed your hand and smiled at you, kissing your cheek

You were bright red at this point

So was he

Eventually, he noticed the figure walk away

After that, he told you who he in the best English he could speak

Thankfully, he was a good student in English class, so he wasn’t too bad

He apologized for the kiss and walked you the rest of the way home telling you about himself as you did the same

Turns out that was the start of a beautiful friendship

And eventually a really cute romance

Draken:

All these Toman boys are just gentleman

I swear, they are

But anyways

You were on your way home from cram school and you saw a man out of the corner of your eye

You kept walking hoping you were just freaking out for nothing

Well, you weren’t

Eventually, you saw this guy with a dragon tattoo on the side of his head

He looked scary, but you were desperate

You walked up to him and in your best Japanese, you begged him to help you out and pretend to know you.

Well, Draken was a bit confused at first but he saw the look in your eyes and decided to help you out

He walked with you until he saw the man leave

He handed you his number and asked you to meet him after school the next day

After that, he introduced you to all of his friends, including the boys and Emma

That one act of kindness helped you to feel more comfortable not only that one night, but for the rest of your life in Tokyo

They even helped you learn more Japanese and you helped them with English

You were thankful for Draken’s kindness

And Draken was happy to help someone in need

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

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izanacore · 2 months ago

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tokyo Revengers ran haitani - reader is also a bonten exec but they both hate each other until one saves the other and then they hit it off - fluff angst smut anything you’d prefer

“salvatore” | ran haitani x reader

mini-collection 𓂃⋆.˚

ticket #002

synopsis: forced to take the place of the yakuza couple she killed. y/n, a bonten executive, is stuck playing the perfect wife—with ran haitani, of all people. they can barely stand each other, yet as the lines blur between duty, they realize the real problem isn’t keeping up the illusion—it’s that it might not be an illusion at all.

characters: ran haitani, fem!reader, haruchiyo sanzu, manjiro “mikey” sano, hajime kokonoi

warnings: explicit content, enemies to lovers, smut (18+) with plot, mild angst, violence, blood, gunfights, assassination, fake marriage, sexual tension, near-death experience, strong language, yakuza politics

notes: bonten timeline! anon, i’m sorry if i went overboard with this one. i just love the concept, ok?? or maybe it’s just ran haitani? idk! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

part 1

ran and y/n were on a mission. but if you saw them right now, you’d think otherwise—pressed against the wall in a dark alley, lips locked in a heated kiss, bodies grinding together. ran’s hands roamed her body, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

y/n grunted, shoving him back.

“tsk. do you think i want this?” ran whispered, irritation lacing his voice.

“will you fucking slow down?” she snapped. “i don’t want your filthy marks on me.”

ran just smirked, biting his lip. “why not? makes it more convincing, don’t you think?”

y/n rolled her eyes. ran haitani. the person she despised most in bonten. and yet, here she was, stuck playing his lover.

of all the people mikey could’ve paired her with—kakucho, rindou, literally anyone else—hell, she would even take sanzu, but he just had to stick her with him.

“you two need to work this out. your personal hatred for each other is ruining bonten,” mikey said, tone sharp and final.

y/n scoffed, pushing back her chair as she shot to her feet. “there is no way in hell i’m doing this with him—”

mikey’s sharp gaze cut her off instantly. with a clenched jaw, she sank back into her seat.

“you can count on us, boss. right, y/n?” ran drawled from beside her, casually draping an arm over her shoulder.

she shoved it off without hesitation, standing up once more—this time to leave.

sanzu’s amused chuckle echoed in the room. “women…”

ran didn’t hesitate before following her out. “y/n!”

“just leave me alone, ran.” she didn’t stop, heading straight for her room. sharing a penthouse with the bonten executives was already suffocating—having to deal with him on top of it was unbearable.

but before she could slam the door shut, ran caught it, pushing his way inside.

y/n turned to him, her expression cold. “if this is just a joke to you, then don’t drag me into it.” her voice was quieter now, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. “i already messed up the last mission. i don’t need mikey thinking i’m useless too.”

being the only woman in bonten meant y/n had to fight twice as hard to prove herself. she had no choice—this was the only life she had left.

bonten had saved her father once, covering up his crimes when he was drowning in debt. but y/n never knew what he was involved in, not until he died as one of bonten’s men. at first, she blamed them, convinced they had taken him from her. in her rage, she almost killed sanzu that night.

but mikey saw something in her. the way she handled a gun, the way she fought. her father had trained her to survive, and mikey decided her talent can’t go to waste. now, she was loyal to him.

but none of that mattered after what she did.

it was supposed to be a simple job—steal the key hidden in the necklace of a woman. that key led to a vault full of gold that once belonged to bonten. what y/n didn’t know was that the people she killed that night weren’t just some faceless targets. they were the yakuza couple—ghosts of the underworld. their identities were so well-guarded that not even their own members had ever laid eyes on them. no one had ever seen their faces, heard their real voices. all people knew was their power.

when rumors spread that the couple had been murdered, their guards locked down the mansion, believing their leaders were still alive. the only proof of identity? the key—and the woman wearing it.

y/n.

she had no choice but to step into the wife’s role. play the part, convince everyone. and to make it worse? she had to do it with ran haitani.

mikey had assigned him to the mission. retrieve the gold. maintain the illusion. avoid an all-out war between bonten and the yakuza faction that still swore loyalty to their “alive” leaders.

their world was a stage, and they played their roles flawlessly. the infamous yakuza couple—madly in love, reckless, shameless, untouchable. their obsession with each other was well-known, a twisted love story whispered in fear.

which meant one thing: ran and y/n had to act just as obsessed. public displays of affection, touching, teasing, pushing boundaries. and when people were watching? they had to make it look real.

so here they were, tangled in each other, hands wandering, lips bruising, lost in a kiss that was too heated for a back alley. too believable.

“uh, boss… i think we need to get out of here now,” one of the bodyguards muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

ran slowly turned his head, eyes dark and sharp.

the poor guy swallowed hard, stepping back.

then, just like that, ran’s expression shifted—a lazy, mocking grin curling on his lips. “you all know damn well how my wife gets when she isn’t satisfied.” his voice was smooth, but the threat was unmistakable. “so be good little guards and learn how to shut the fuck up.”

“y-yes, boss.”

ran turned back to y/n, eyes gleaming with amusement. “now, where were we, my beautiful wife?”

y/n’s glare could burn through steel. “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“mmm,” ran hummed against her skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder. “just love getting under your skin.”

y/n slid her arms around his neck, but this time, her grip was tight—just enough force to make him tense. she yanked him closer, enough to make him grunt, enough to feel the way his muscles twitched under her touch.

then she leaned in, voice dripping with fake sweetness. “enough is enough, my love. i’m very satisfied already. shall we continue this at home? wouldn’t want our guards to get an even better view when they see me getting railed by you.”

her voice was loud enough for the bodyguards to hear. loud enough to make them stiffen in place.

ran exhaled sharply, amusement flickering in his gaze. then he chuckled, low and entertained. “as you wish, baby.”

when they finally arrived at the yakuza couple’s mansion, they wasted no time settling into the master bedroom. y/n sat on the edge of the table, legs crossed, while ran loomed over her, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“so, what’s the plan, mrs. haitani?” ran drawled.

y/n scoffed. “fuck off.”

as she shifted slightly, the high slit of her dress parted, exposing more of her thighs. ran’s gaze flickered downward. he wasn’t blind—he was still a man, and y/n was undeniably attractive. and if there was one thing better than a beautiful woman, it was a beautiful woman who hated his guts. ruining her would be fun.

ran didn’t actually hate y/n. but god, she made it easy to annoy her.

she was obsessed with proving herself, like bonten would crumble if she let up for even a second. but she already had mikey’s trust, sanzu’s respect—hell, even kakucho acknowledged her skills.

so what was she still fighting for?

maybe that’s why ran loved messing with her. beneath all that pride and obsession with proving herself, she was just as reckless and unhinged as the rest of them—she just refused to admit it.

“why don’t we pick up where we left off?” ran mused, leaning in, his lips dangerously close to hers.

y/n turned her face away just before he could close the distance. “get off me, haitani,” she said coldly.

ran chuckled, unfazed, and took a seat beside her. “y’know, in our line of work, you should really learn how to let off some steam.”

y/n shot him a glare as she stood up. “i’d rather kill myself than touch your dick.”

ignoring him, she strode over to the table, focusing on the blueprint laid out before her. it detailed the mansion’s layout, highlighting the safest route to the basement vault. her men would be the ones retrieving the gold—she just had to make sure nothing went wrong.

behind her, ran lit a cigarette, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before offering her one. she took it between her lips, waiting as he flicked his lighter again, the small flame illuminating his smirk.

“so, what now, mrs. haitani?” he murmured.

y/n shot him a glare before blowing a puff of smoke right into his face. “will you drop that nickname?”

“why should i?” ran teased. “you’re literally my wife.”

she flipped him off before turning back to the blueprint.

finally, she got to business, explaining the plan while ran listened, cigarette dangling lazily from his lips.

the plan was in motion.

y/n unlocked the door to the basement vault, eyes widening at the sight before her. holy shit.

“woah. this is bonten’s?! sick!!” ran whistled, hands on his pockets like he owned the place.

after what felt like forever sneaking the gold out through the underground tunnels, a sudden knock on the door made them both freeze.

fuck.

“ma’am, sir, your dinner is here. we’ll just bring it in and place it on the table.”

y/n’s head snapped to ran. “did you lock the door?”

ran blinked. “…shit.”

pure panic. there was no time. no excuse. nothing—except—

“moan,” ran hissed.

“what?!”

“just moan, y/n!!” he whisper-shouted.

“ugh…” her face scrunched in confusion, but she did it anyway.

“louder.”

“fuck… ugh…”

“yes… baby, just like that.”

they both moaned, playing up the act.

y/n’s men exchanged glances, eyeing the two of them weirdly.

the door, which had started to open, immediately slammed shut.

“s-so sorry, boss!! we’ll just leave your dinner to the main table and—uh—give you two some privacy!”

y/n and ran rushed to lock the door before bursting into laughter.

“what the fuck just happened?” y/n wheezed.

“no clue, but that was fucking hilarious,” ran grinned, still breathless.

they stared at each other, laughter dying down until y/n cleared her throat, straightened up, and walked off like nothing happened. ran just smirked, watching her go.

and after what felt like an eternity, all the gold was safely out, retrieved by bonten.

mission fucking accomplished.

y/n’s phone suddenly rang, cutting through the silence. she glanced at the screen—mikey.

“yes, boss?”

“don’t think your mission is over yet. you two need to lay low for a while. after that, you’ll both disappear without a trace—the yakuza couple was supposed to stay hidden anyway. good work, y/n. you proved yourself again.”

a small smile tugged at her lips. “thanks, boss.” the call ended.

“who was that?” ran asked, tilting his head.

“mikey.”

“what did he want?”

“he said we have to keep up the act for a while, then we can finally ‘disappear’.”

ran smirked, tilting his head. “so you’re telling me i get to keep calling you my wife a little longer? damn, y/n, if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re just looking for an excuse to stay with me.”

y/n just rolled her eyes, too exhausted to come up with a comeback.

ran took y/n’s hand, ready to leave. “let’s go.”

but just as he stepped forward, y/n suddenly tugged him back. before he could question it, she reached for his shirt and effortlessly unbuttoned the top three buttons.

his brow lifted. “woah, y/n. if you wanna fuck, you could’ve just said so.”

“shut up. we’re supposed to look like we were fucking, remember? now, play the part.”

ran grinned. “or—and hear me out—we could just do it for real. no need to pretend.”

y/n gave him a deadpan look. “i’ll kill you.”

before he could retort, she tousled her own hair slightly, making it look messier. satisfied, she took ran’s hand and led him out.

they made their way to dinner, playing their roles perfectly, before heading straight to their room for the night.

they got ready for bed, and ran was already sprawled out on the mattress—shirtless.

y/n crossed her arms, unimpressed. “what the fuck are you doing?”

ran barely glanced at her. “going to sleep?”

“you’re not sleeping there.”

he raised a brow. “you don’t get to decide that.” then, turning his back to her, he added with a smirk, “either you sleep here with me or on the sofa—uncomfortably. your choice.”

y/n huffed. “fine.”

stubbornly, she curled up on the couch. or, at least, she tried to sleep. but no matter how much she shifted, the cushions were too stiff, and the cold air nipped at her skin. after what felt like an eternity, she finally gave in, slipping into bed as quietly as possible. not because she cared about waking ran—she couldn’t care less. she just didn’t want him to know he won.

“took you long enough.”

she froze.

“shut up,” y/n muttered, facing away. “couldn’t sleep there.”

ran chuckled, clearly amused. she ignored him, shutting her eyes, but before she could even think about sleep, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into a warm, solid chest.

“get off me, haitani!” she hissed, squirming. but ran didn’t budge. he was stronger. instead, he just held her tighter.

“shhh. what kind of husband would i be if i didn’t cuddle my wife?”

“fuck you, ran.”

“oh? do you want to?” his fingers teasingly skimmed her waist.

y/n stiffened, about to snap at him, when he let out a low chuckle. “kidding. i’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want.” then, more serious, “but for fuck’s sake, stop moving. i need to sleep.”

“maybe if you got your filthy hands off me, i could lie down peacefully.”

“don’t want to. i like seeing you mad.”

she huffed, debating whether it was worth the struggle. probably not. ran wasn’t letting go anytime soon. and, maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t that bad. his warmth, the way his breath fanned against her neck, how naturally her body fit against his…

y/n’s face burned.

but she let herself relax, just a little. just for tonight. it’s not like she had a choice anyway… right?

the next morning was… well, different.

ran was sprawled out on his back, one arm thrown over y/n, while she was comfortably nestled against his chest—like some picture-perfect married couple.

except they weren’t a married couple.

and y/n was about to be violently reminded of that fact.

a sudden flash. then another. and before her brain could fully register what was happening, a click.

her eyes shot open.

the first thing she saw? a fucking phone.

the second? sanzu standing at the foot of the bed, grinning like a maniac.

y/n screamed. loudly. she shoved ran off of her so hard he groaned.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

“morning, lovebirds,” sanzu greeted, waving his phone.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN?!”

“damn, your security is tight,” sanzu whistled. “so hard to convince them i’m ‘friends’—” (he even air-quoted it) ”—with the infamous yakuza couple.”

“THAT DOESN’T EXPLAIN WHY YOU’RE TAKING PICTURES OF US!”

“boss wanted an update. had to send proof you two were still alive.”

y/n’s eye twitched. “DELETE. IT.”

“too late.” sanzu smirked, shoving his phone in her face. “already sent it to the group chat.”

y/n let out another scream and chucked a pillow at him. “GET OUT!”

sanzu dodged it with a laugh. “didn’t know your kink was hate sex.”

“GET. OUT!!”

“alright, alright! no need to scream, jesus.” sanzu rolled his eyes as y/n practically shoved him out, slamming and locking the door behind him.

she exhaled sharply, pressing her back against the door. then she looked down.

…only in her bra and panties.

fuck.

her eyes widened in horror as realization hit—she must’ve stripped in her sleep. a habit she had when it got too hot. and she’d completely forgotten ran was in bed with her.

so that’s why sanzu assumed they fucked.

before she could spiral further, ran—who had been silently watching this entire shitshow—finally spoke.

“good morning, sexy.”

y/n whipped her head toward him.

he was smirking. biting his lip. ogling at her with zero shame.

she grabbed the nearest piece of clothing off the floor, yanked it over herself, and bolted for the bathroom.

behind her, ran just chuckled.

the day had passed quicker than expected, and now it was already afternoon. y/n was curled up in bed, buried under layers of pajamas and a hoodie—the complete opposite of how she’d started the morning.

“seriously? you’re just gonna rot in here all day?” ran’s irritated voice cut through the room.

y/n didn’t bother responding, too focused on munching her chips and watching tv, treating him like he was nothing more than a ghost.

ran exhaled sharply before snatching the remote and shutting the tv off.

y/n rolled her eyes. “what the fuck is your problem?” she tried to keep her voice steady, but the irritation bled through.

“what’s my problem?” ran scoffed. “you’re sitting here all day like you’re not in the middle of a fucking mission!”

“can’t i have one day off?”

“no, you can’t!” ran shot back, arms crossing over his chest. “weren’t you the one who said this couple is supposed to be obsessed with each other? because right now, you’re doing a shitty job of proving it.”

y/n let out a dry laugh. “oh? what do you want me to do? suck you off in front of everyone?”

y/n shouldn’t have said that—because the next thing they knew, they were already tangled in each other, mouths colliding in a desperate, feverish kiss. y/n’s clothes were long discarded, leaving her in nothing but a lace bra and panties, her body pressed against ran’s as if she was trying to crawl under his skin.

their kisses were messy, hungry—like they’d been starving for this, for each other, for far too long. ran’s lips trailed down her neck, licking and sucking until he was sure to leave marks. y/n was just as desperate, hands roaming his body, nails scraping lightly down his chest before slipping lower.

her fingers ghosted over his cock through his pants, and ran let out a breathy chuckle against her throat. “thought you didn’t wanna touch my dick?”

instead of answering, y/n shoved him back, straddling his lap as she crashed her lips onto his again. one hand braced against his shoulder while the other worked his belt open with practiced ease. once it was undone, she gave it a sharp tug. ran lifted his hips just enough for her to yank it halfway down, exposing the growing bulge beneath his boxers.

she didn’t waste time. wrapping her fingers around him, she pumped his cock, slow and deliberate, her lips finding his neck again. ran groaned, his breath hitching as her thumb teased his slit.

“fuck, y/n…” he exhaled shakily, head tipping back. “didn’t know you were this filthy…”

she covered his mouth with her palm, silencing him with a teasing smirk. “shhh… just wanna make my husband feel good.”

her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing the fabric aside. she trailed kisses down his chest, across the ink on his ribs, lower and lower—until she was kneeling between his legs, face inches from his throbbing cock.

ran watched with hooded eyes as she licked from the base to the tip, agonizingly slow, her gaze locked onto his. his jaw clenched, hands instinctively reaching for her hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail.

“shit—” his voice broke when she finally took him into her mouth, sucking him in inch by inch. ran cursed under his breath, head falling back, fingers tightening in her hair as he fought the urge to thrust into her throat.

but restraint was never his strong suit.

his hips jerked, pushing deeper, and y/n gagged around him, eyes watering as she tried to take it all. ran groaned, watching her struggle, watching her take it anyway.

“fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he rasped, rolling his hips again.

tears pricked at y/n’s eyes, but she didn’t stop—didn’t even think about pulling away. the sight alone was enough to drive ran insane, his grip tightening as he forced himself deeper, relishing the way she took it, the way her nails dug into his thighs.

but just when he was teetering on the edge, he yanked her off, squeezing her cheeks before crashing his lips onto hers, swallowing the desperate moan she let out.

“waited so long to ruin you…”

ran’s voice was low, dripping with something dark as he manhandled y/n onto all fours. one hand pressed against the small of her back, keeping her in place, while the other wrapped around the base of his cock.

he didn’t waste time. spitting directly onto her slick folds, he used the tip of his cock to smear it over her entrance, teasing her with slow strokes.

“fuck… should’ve fucked this pussy a long time ago,” he groaned before sinking into her in one brutal thrust.

y/n’s breath hitched, fingers twisting into the sheets as ran buried himself to the hilt. he started moving immediately, both hands gripping her shoulders as he fucked into her, dragging her back onto his cock with every snap of his hips.

“is that… is that all you got, haitani?” y/n forced out, voice laced with mockery even as her body trembled beneath him. she knew exactly how to get under his skin, and ran hated it.

his grip tightened. “don’t test me, y/n… unless you wanna be crawling out of here tomorrow.”

she let out a breathy chuckle. “should’ve just fingered myself—”

ran shoved her face down into the mattress before she could finish. his palm flattened against the back of her head, pinning her down as he railed her. his pace turned punishing, each thrust knocking the air from her lungs, his cock stretching her so perfectly it had her vision blurring.

“jesus—slow down, ran…!”

he didn’t. didn’t even hear her.

he was too focused on the way her pussy gripped him, too lost in the way her body took everything he gave like she was made for this.

y/n tried to speak, to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t form. only broken moans and desperate cries left her lips, her mind going completely blank as he fucked her into oblivion.

the sounds of skin slapping, the wet, obscene noises of their bodies colliding, and her shameless moans echoed through the mansion. she didn’t care. couldn’t care. all she could think about was him—the way his cock dragged against her walls, the way his grip was bruising, the way he felt so fucking good inside her.

just when she thought she might lose herself completely, ran suddenly pulled out. before she could even register the emptiness, he flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress with his weight.

his gaze was locked onto her as he leaned down, tongue dragging slowly over the bonten tattoo inked between her breasts.

y/n let out a shaky whimper, her whole body shuddering beneath him.

ran smirked against her skin. “what happened, baby?” he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. “all that attitude, and now you’re just lying here, letting me have my way with you?”

his fingers trailed down her stomach, teasing her entrance, feeling how drenched she was.

“you hate me, right?” he taunted, slipping two fingers inside with ease. “so why’s your pussy so fucking wet for me?”

without warning, ran slammed back into her, knocking the breath from her lungs as he caged her beneath him. his arms braced on either side of her head, trapping her as he set a brutal pace, fucking into her with the same unrelenting force as before.

his face was buried in the crook of her neck, breath hot against her skin as he whispered, “not so tough now, eh?”

y/n barely managed a glare, biting back a moan as she spat, “shut up and just fuck me.”

ran only chuckled, amused by her defiance—because he knew she was losing it, her body betraying her even as she tried to act unbothered.

grinning, he shifted his weight, grabbing the backs of her thighs and folding her legs against her chest. the new angle had her gasping, his cock hitting even deeper, making her entire body tremble beneath him.

“let’s see who’s gonna cum first,” he taunted, watching her face twist in pleasure.

“no…” y/n turned her head, hiding her face behind her arms, embarrassed by how quickly she was unraveling.

ran loved it. loved how she had so much fucking attitude, yet here she was, taking everything he gave like she was made for it. watching her fall apart beneath him, so submissive, so fucking ruined—it was heaven-sent.

“ran… i can’t—” she whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as her body tensed, overwhelmed by pleasure.

ran cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him before slipping his thumb between her parted lips.

“oh, you can, baby,” he cooed, watching as she instinctively sucked. “you’re so fucking good to me. clenching around my cock like you don’t want me to leave.”

he pulled his thumb free, dragging it down her swollen lips before tapping it against her clit. her whole body jolted, another broken moan spilling from her mouth.

“that’s it, baby,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder. “take it. you wanted me to fuck you? then fucking take it.”

y/n was gone, unable to think, unable to form words—all she could do was take him, let him fuck her raw, let him use her like he had every right to.

ran grinned down at her, eyes gleaming. “not talking back now, huh?” he teased, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts. “where’s all that attitude, princess? too busy getting fucked stupid?”

he could feel it—her walls fluttering, her thighs trembling, the way her breath hitched like she was right on the edge.

“go on, baby,” he groaned. “cum on my cock.”

her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. a cry tore from her throat as she came hard, body convulsing beneath him. ran groaned at the way she clenched around him, his thrusts growing sloppy.

pulling out at the last second, he fisted his cock, stroking himself fast as he hovered over her. y/n barely had time to catch her breath before the first hot spurt of his cum painted her chest, dripping between her breasts.

ran exhaled a shaky breath, watching the mess he made of her, eyes dark with satisfaction.

“fuck,” he muttered, smearing some of it over her nipple with his cock.

y/n gave him a tired glare. “you’re disgusting.”

ran just smirked, tapping her chin with his cock.

“and you love it.”

ran wiped his release off y/n’s skin with a cloth he grabbed from the nightstand, slow and deliberate, before tossing it aside. then, without a word, he rolled onto his back beside her, breath still uneven. y/n lay staring at the ceiling, mirroring his position. the heat between them still lingered in the air, thick and unshaken.

“so… what now?” ran murmured.

“dunno. still hate your guts, though.”

“same.”

silence. heavy. loaded.

then, y/n exhaled, voice firm. “we should never do this again.”

ran nodded once. “right. this is only a one-time thing.”

except—it wasn’t.

start | part 2

191 notes · View notes

missmadella · 9 days ago

Text

"Your having a fight" // Tokyo Revengers

Characters: Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, Kazutora, Ran, Rindou Haitani, Kokonoi, Izana

Synopsis: One argument too many. One name whispered too soft. And suddenly, you’re pinned to the door while he kisses you like he needs you more than air.

CW: arguing, emotional distress, aggressive kissing, intense makeout, possessive behavior, physical tension (wall pinning), emotionally messy dynamics

Mikey (Manjiro Sano):

"Don’t Walk Away."

It wasn’t just the argument—it was everything beneath it.

The missed calls. The bruises he wouldn’t explain. The way he looked at you like you were already slipping away.

“You can’t keep shutting me out, Manjiro,” you hissed, voice tight, barely holding together the storm inside you. “You disappear, you won’t talk, and then you act like I’m the one doing something wrong.”

He stood at the far end of the room, half in shadow, face unreadable.

“That’s because you don’t understand what it’s like to lose everything,” he said softly.

You took a step forward, defiant. “No, you just think you’re the only one who hurts.”

That broke something.

His eyes snapped to yours, darker than you’d ever seen them. “You think this doesn’t kill me? Every time I get close to someone, they die. Or they leave. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“Then stop pushing me away!”

He didn’t move. Not at first.

So you turned.

“I’m done,” you said, walking toward the door. “If all you’re going to do is punish yourself, I’m not going to stand here and watch.”

But your fingers had barely brushed the doorknob when you felt it.

His presence. Right behind you.

His hand slammed against the door just above your shoulder, caging you in. You felt the heat of him, the tremble in his fingers. His breath was unsteady.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growled.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. “Then give me a reason to stay.”

A pause. One second. Two.

Then he spun you around and kissed you.

No hesitation. No soft buildup. It was fierce—hungry. Like a damn breaking inside him. Like he’d wanted this for so long it had become unbearable.

He kissed like someone who didn’t know if he'd ever get to again.

Your back hit the door, his body pressed against yours. His hands—trembling but firm—cradled your jaw, then slipped down to your waist, gripping like he needed to anchor himself or be swept away.

You gasped into his mouth, and he chased it—deepened the kiss, tongue dragging against yours like he was tasting a lifeline.

“Manjiro,” you whispered against his lips, barely a breath.

He stilled for half a heartbeat. His forehead rested against yours.

“Say it again,” he rasped.

“Manjiro.”

He groaned—low, guttural—and kissed you again, rougher this time. One hand slid under your shirt, not with lust, but desperation—skin to skin, he needed to feel you were real.

Your hands found his hair, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss again, and again. He kissed like someone drowning—like you were oxygen.

His mouth left yours only to trail kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You felt his lips tremble slightly against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so—fucked up, but I—”

You cut him off with another kiss, softer this time, lingering.

“I don’t want perfect,” you whispered. “I just want you.”

He exhaled shakily, finally resting his full weight against you, forehead pressed to your collarbone.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” he said.

You smiled sadly, fingers brushing through his hair. “Then let me. At least you’ll feel something.” And he pulled you back into his arms, into another kiss—this one slow, dragging, like he was memorizing you in pieces. He kissed you until the anger faded, until all that was left was want and ache and the quiet sound of your heart beating against his.

_________________________________________________________

Ken “Draken” Ryuguji:

"You Don’t Get to Choose for Me."

The door slammed behind you. Hard. Loud enough to rattle the picture frames on the wall.

He’d followed you back to the apartment after the fight with those guys at the bar—blood on his shirt, a cut on his cheek—but you were the one shaking.

“You had no right!” you shouted, pacing the living room like a live wire. “You don’t get to throw yourself into a fight on my behalf without telling me anything!”

Draken leaned against the door, arms crossed, eyes narrowed—but silent.

You hated that.

“Say something!” you snapped. “You always pull this silent treatment when I’m pissed, like I’m some overdramatic—”

“You are being overdramatic,” he said, calm but sharp. “I took care of it. No one laid a hand on you.”

“That’s not the point, Ken!” You used his real name on purpose. It cut. “You act like I’m some breakable doll who needs to be shielded from your world, but I’m already in it!”

He stepped forward.

“Yeah? And what happens when you get caught in the crossfire, huh? When some punk with a grudge decides you’re the best way to hurt me?”

“I’ll take that risk,” you said, chin high. “I’d rather bleed beside you than be treated like something you can just stash away until you’re done playing gang leader.”

His eyes burned. He walked up to you slowly, deliberately.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

You tried to brush past him, but he grabbed your wrist—not hard, but firm. You looked down at his hand, then back at him.

“Let go.”

“Not until you listen.”

“You don't get to hold me back and shut me out.”

“And you don’t get to act like this is a damn game,” he snapped, voice finally cracking. “This isn’t some movie where the girl follows the guy into danger and they live happily ever after. This is real. I’ve seen people die. I’ve held bodies that used to have dreams and hearts and—and I’m not gonna let that happen to you.”

You stared at him. “You really think I don’t know what I’m walking into? You think I’d risk all this for someone I didn’t love?”

He froze.

And there it was.

The crack. The word neither of you had dared to say until it was too loud to ignore.

The next second, he kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was teeth clashing, breath stealing, hands in hair, years of restraint shattering all at once. He walked you backward until your back hit the wall, one hand braced beside your head, the other sliding down your side to anchor you to him.

You gasped against his lips, and he took it like a challenge—mouth greedy, tongue hot, lips dragging down your jaw, your throat, like he was starved and you were the only thing that could feed him.

“Don’t say you love me,” he breathed against your neck, “unless you mean it.”

“I mean it,” you whispered, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Even when I hate you—I love you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes wild, pupils blown, lips swollen.

Then he kissed you again—slower this time. Deep. Thorough. Like he was kissing you for every time he hadn’t.

His hands slid under your shirt to rest warm on your waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles against your skin.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured between kisses.

“Good,” you said, breathless. “You deserve it.”

He laughed—low and rough against your lips—before kissing you again. And again. Until the fight was smoke in the air, and the only thing left was the way you fit perfectly against him.

_________________________________________________________

Mitsuya Takashi:

“I’m not made of glass, Takashi.”

You hadn’t meant to yell at him.

But the words were already out there, ringing through the quiet of his apartment. And Mitsuya—perfect, composed, always-in-control Mitsuya—just stood there, blinking at you like you’d spoken another language.

“I’m not your little sister,” you continued, voice shaking. “You don’t need to protect me from everything. I’m not a child. And I’m sure as hell not a side project you can just... fix.”

He didn’t respond.

He just turned back toward the sewing machine, like that was more important than you. Like finishing a hem was easier than facing how this fight had been building for weeks.

You felt your chest tighten. “There’s nothing more frustrating than watching someone you love—actually love—pretend you’re not worth the risk of being vulnerable.”

Still nothing.

His hands flexed, resting flat on the worktable. Shoulders tense. That vein in his neck—barely pulsing, but visible.

You walked closer, your voice quieter now, almost bitter. “God, Takashi. You don’t even let yourself feel unless it’s for someone else. When do you get to fall apart?”

That’s when it broke.

He spun around so fast it startled you. The look in his eyes wasn’t anger—not exactly. It was ache. Years of swallowed hurt and buried want carved into one expression.

“You think I don’t want to?” he said, voice hoarse. “You think I don’t lie awake wishing I could just say it—do something, anything—but every time I get close, I hear her voice—my mom, my sisters, everything I’ve ever held together—telling me to be the strong one?”

Your lips parted, breath caught.

“Mitsuya—”

“I’ve wanted you for months,” he snapped. “And I’ve been terrified of ruining the one place in my life that feels… safe. You. Us.”

You stepped forward, heart pounding. “So ruin it.”

“What?”

“Ruin it. Let it fall apart. Stop being so perfect for five seconds and kiss me like you actually want me.”

His hands were on you instantly.

One at your waist, the other threading through your hair as he pulled you in and kissed you like the world was ending. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was real.

Desperate. Hot. Slightly clumsy.

His lips were soft but feverish, dragging over yours again and again, like he was trying to make up for every second he’d held back. His hands roamed—tentative at first, then more sure, settling at your lower back, pulling you against him.

You gasped, and he kissed down your jaw, his breath shaky.

“I’m not perfect,” he whispered between kisses. “I just didn’t want to break something beautiful.”

“You won’t,” you murmured, fingers curling in the back of his shirt. “But you’re allowed to be selfish for once.”

He rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

And then he kissed you again—slower this time, like gratitude. Like apology. Like a thousand quiet promises, finally said out loud.

_______________________________________________________

Chifuyu Matsuno:

“If you didn’t want me to care, then you should’ve just stayed quiet.”

He said it before he could stop himself. That sharp sentence.

It hit like a slap, and the silence that followed was deafening.

Your brows drew together, lips parting—not from rage, but disbelief. “...Wow.”

Chifuyu immediately froze.

“No, I didn’t mean—” he started, reaching for you, but you stepped back.

“You didn’t mean it, or you didn’t mean to say it out loud?”

He looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. His hands twitched at his sides, unsure whether to reach for you or let you leave.

You could see it on his face: the moment he realized he messed up. Not just a small oops—this was a crack down the middle of everything you’d been building.

All because he’d panicked.

“Don’t twist this, okay?” he snapped back, voice too sharp for how his eyes looked—wet and wide. “I only said that because I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had anyone—you—care this much about me, and it freaks me the fuck out.”

He was shaking his head, like he hated himself more than you ever could.

“You’re always calm, and patient, and I get overwhelmed and say dumb shit and—fuck,” he laughed bitterly, wiping his face with both hands. “I say things I don’t mean just to keep you from getting too close, because if you get close enough to leave... I don’t know what I’ll do.”

You stood there, stunned, fists clenched at your sides. “Then stop pushing me away.”

He looked up.

You said it again, firmer: “Stop pushing me away.”

And just like that, he moved.

There was no smooth lead-up. He walked across the room, grabbed your face like he thought you might disappear, and kissed you hard. It was unpolished—messy—and so full of emotion it made your knees buckle.

His lips were hot, soft, but desperate—tasting like every unspoken thing he’d kept buried for months. He kissed you like someone finally admitting they were afraid to be loved, but even more afraid to lose it.

His hands slid up into your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp—and he groaned into your mouth like that sound undid him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured between kisses. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You didn’t stop kissing him. You didn’t want to. You could feel the apology in every shaky exhale, every way his mouth softened the longer he kissed you.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered against your lips. “I just get scared.”

“I know,” you whispered back. “I do, too.”

And he kissed you again. Slower now. Gentler. Like he was trying to memorize your shape against him. His arms wrapped tight around you, like maybe if he held you hard enough, you’d never walk away.

You rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing fast.

“You always ruin my plans,” he whispered with a trembling smile.

“What plans?”

He laughed quietly. “The ones where I try not to fall in love with you.”

You kissed him again. This time, you didn’t stop.

_________________________________________________________

Kazutora Hanemiya:

"I never asked for this. I never wanted you to be a part of this fucking mess!"

Kazutora’s voice cracked, the words shooting out like daggers. The room felt suffocating. His face, usually so carefully unreadable, was twisted in frustration and something else—something darker.

You stood there, frozen in place, struggling to make sense of what he was saying. "What the hell are you talking about, Kazutora?"

His eyes flashed, pain flashing across his features before it was quickly covered by that mask of anger again. "You," he spat. "I keep dragging you into my shit, and all you ever do is... be there, be too kind, too fucking understanding. I can't keep doing this to you."

You could feel the tightness in your chest, the heat rising in your face. "Doing what, Kazutora? Being there for you? Supporting you when you push me away every damn time?"

His jaw clenched, fingers flexing against his own leg like he couldn’t decide whether to lash out or crumble.

"God, you don’t get it," he whispered, voice breaking. "I’m not good for you. I’m broken. I’ve always been. Everything I touch turns to shit."

“No,” you said, stepping forward. “You don’t get it. I’m here because I choose to be, Kazutora. Not because I’m being forced. I’m not some damn charity case you can keep pushing away and pretending I don’t care.”

His eyes flashed—hurt, rage, and something deeper. “But that’s exactly it, isn’t it? I don’t deserve you. I’ve hurt too many people... and you’re just—too good—too pure. You’re gonna leave when you see the truth.”

“Then show me the truth,” you snapped. “Stop hiding behind your guilt. Stop pushing me away and let me in, Kazutora.”

And just like that, the walls around him shattered.

Without another word, his body collided with yours. He pushed you back, not violently, but with an urgency that made your heart race. His lips found yours in a wild, desperate kiss—messy, frantic, and yet so fucking full of emotion it left you breathless.

Kazutora kissed like a man starved, every inch of him trembling as if he was trying to drown himself in you. His hands moved roughly over your body, desperate to hold you, to ground himself in something real, something he could keep.

“Don’t leave me,” he breathed between kisses, voice hoarse, cracked with emotion. His hands slid into your hair, gripping tight as if you were the only thing tethering him to the present. “Please... don’t leave me.”

You kissed him back, fiercely, pulling him closer. Every part of you screamed at him, not with anger anymore, but with love, frustration, and a raw need to make him understand.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, feeling his pulse under your fingertips as your hands ran over the warmth of his skin. “I’ll never leave you, Kazutora.”

His breath caught at your words, and for a moment, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, shaky breaths mingling. The softness of the moment was broken when he kissed you again—slower this time, but with a desperation that shook you both to your core.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against your lips, hands smoothing over your back like he was trying to memorize the feel of you. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone... especially you.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him in for one more kiss, this one more tender, more patient. You didn’t care about the past, the mistakes. You cared about this moment. You cared about him.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips. “But you’re here now. And that’s all that matters.”

Kazutora pulled back slightly, his gaze softening, though the confusion and pain still lingered behind his eyes. He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath still shaky.

“I’ll never be good enough for you,” he murmured, voice breaking.

“Shut up,” you whispered. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

__________________________________________________________

Ran Haitani:

"You don’t get to talk to me like that."

The words slipped out, harsh and cutting, before you could even think about what you were going to say.

Ran stood across from you, arms crossed, his usual smug expression replaced with something darker. His eyes bore into you, narrowing as he took in your flustered form.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that again,” he repeated, voice colder than usual. There was an edge to it, something unfamiliar. But his jaw was clenched tight, and his posture was tense, almost defensive.

You threw your hands up in frustration, unable to control the heat rising in your chest. “Why? Because you’re Ran Haitani? Because you think you can just brush me off whenever it’s convenient and then expect me to follow your lead?”

His lips curled into that signature smirk, but there was a trace of something more jagged beneath it. “You know who I am, don’t you? You’re the one who’s asking for this. I don’t owe anyone an explanation, especially not you.”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling your pulse quicken. “That’s the problem, Ran. You never think you owe anyone anything. You think you can push people away and keep them at arm’s length—especially me. And I’m so fucking sick of it.”

Ran took a step forward, his expression flickering from annoyance to something deeper. “Is that it? You think I push you away? You think I don’t—” He stopped himself, his words stalling in his throat. His gaze flickered, and for the first time, there was something unsteady in his eyes.

"Think what?" you challenged, stepping closer to him, refusing to back down. “What is it, Ran? You think you can just shut me out because it’s easier than letting someone close?”

The words hit harder than you expected, because in that moment, you saw it—the hesitation. The split second where he was about to open up, only to close it off again. He reached for his cigarette pack, flicking one out with shaky fingers.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply. His voice dropped to a low, almost inaudible tone as he exhaled. “You don’t understand. You really don’t.”

“No,” you shot back, not backing down. “I do understand. You think I don’t get it? You’re scared. Scared of letting anyone in because you’re worried they’ll leave you when they find out how fucked up you are. But I’m not going anywhere, Ran. Not until you tell me the truth.”

That was it. The moment the dam broke.

His cigarette dropped to the floor, forgotten. Without warning, he grabbed your arms, his hands tight but not painful, pulling you toward him with an intensity that stole your breath.

He kissed you fiercely, all pent-up frustration and longing crashing into you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t gentle—no, it was urgent, desperate, as if he was trying to prove something to himself as much as to you.

His lips were demanding, but there was a rawness to them that wasn’t like Ran at all. This was real.

You moaned softly, and that sound sent a ripple through him. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he needed to feel every part of you against him.

"Don’t fucking run from me," he growled against your lips, his voice a mix of anger and need. “Stop pretending like I don’t give a shit. You’re just as fucking important as everyone else, alright?”

His kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless, your body pressing into his as if there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath ragged, eyes closed, his expression a twisted mix of relief and frustration.

“I don’t know how to fucking do this,” he muttered. “I don’t know how to let you in without pushing you away at the same time.”

You cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his lips. “You’re already in, Ran. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. With you. All the way.”

His eyes opened slowly, locking onto yours, the raw vulnerability there almost too much to bear. For once, Ran wasn’t the smug, untouchable man he pretended to be. For once, he was just a guy who was scared to be loved.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice a soft plea that melted the remaining walls between you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated, kissing him again, this time slower, deeper—a kiss that spoke of promises and confessions still hanging in the air.

And for the first time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t either.

________________________________________________________

Rindou Haitani:

“You think I don’t know what’s going on, huh?”

The moment the words left his mouth, you could feel the whole room shift. Rindou’s usually playful, cocky smirk was gone. His expression was sharp, eyes narrowed with an anger you’d never seen directed at you before.

You blinked, suddenly caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped, stalking closer. “You’ve been spending way too much time with him. You think I didn’t notice?”

Your pulse spiked. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, suddenly realizing what he was getting at. "Are you seriously accusing me of cheating?" You couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. Rindou, of all people. Rindou Haitani—your Rindou—was jealous.

But there was something in his eyes now, something twisted and protective, as though he’d already made up his mind about everything. “What else am I supposed to think? I see the way you look at him. You think I’m stupid?”

You were taken aback by his cold tone. The Rindou you knew—the real him—wasn't like this. He wasn’t possessive, wasn’t controlling. But in that moment, his insecurities were spilling out in ways that felt foreign and raw.

“I’m not—” You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “I’m not doing anything. You’re imagining things.”

He took another step closer, his chest now brushing yours, his gaze intense and piercing. “I don’t imagine things. I see them. You think I don’t notice the way he looks at you? You think I’m just gonna let it go?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. It was clear he wasn’t just angry—he was terrified. Terrified of losing you. Terrified of being vulnerable, and terrified of having his heart broken.

“Rindou…” you whispered, your heart racing. “It’s not what you think. You’re letting your insecurities get the best of you.”

“Don’t fucking tell me I’m insecure,” he growled, his hands coming up to grab your arms, his grip tighter than you’d expected. “I’ve spent my whole life trying not to care, trying to keep everything at arm’s length, and here you are—you—making me feel things I don’t want to. I don’t want to care about you this much, and yet, here I am, fucking losing my mind over some guy who barely knows you.”

Your heart ached, your voice softening. “Rindou… It’s just him. It’s not like that. I’m with you. You know that.”

But you saw the pain in his eyes, the way he was unraveling before you, and you knew that this fight wasn’t really about him being jealous. It was about him being afraid. Afraid of his feelings. Afraid that the walls he’d spent so long building were finally crumbling, and he wasn’t ready for the fall.

Before you could say anything else, he kissed you. It wasn’t soft, and it wasn’t sweet—it was rough, urgent, a collision of mouths and teeth, like he was trying to pull every ounce of emotion from you. His hands found their way into your hair, tugging you closer as if he wanted to bury himself in you, to erase every ounce of doubt that had crept between you both.

You kissed him back, your hands gripping his shirt, your body pressing against his as you tried to keep up with the desperation in his movements. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything he couldn’t say with words. It was all the frustration, the fear, the jealousy, and the desire he couldn’t control, spilling out in every kiss.

“You’re mine,” he growled, breaking the kiss to stare into your eyes. His face was flushed, breath heavy, his fingers trailing down your jaw in a way that made your pulse skip. “Do you fucking understand that? You’re mine.”

You nodded, breathless, your own heart racing as you tried to ground yourself in his words. “I’m yours, Rindou. Always.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, more tender, but there was still that same urgent need behind it. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t pull away from you even if he wanted to.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he muttered against your lips, his hands tracing the contours of your body, memorizing the feel of you.

You could feel the sincerity in his touch, the rawness in his voice. He was terrified. Terrified of being vulnerable, terrified of loving you with everything he had, because he didn’t know how to handle it. But here he was, in your arms, finally admitting it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back, kissing him again with a softness that made him tremble. “I’m right here. With you.”

And for the first time, Rindou let himself believe it.

_______________________________________________________

Kokonoi Hajime:

"I’m not one of your fucking projects, Kokonoi."

The words were out before you could stop them, and they were sharper than you intended. Kokonoi’s eyes snapped to yours, and in that moment, you could feel the tension build between you like a storm about to break.

His usual calm, almost detached demeanor faltered for a fraction of a second before he regained control. But that flicker of frustration—raw frustration—was enough to make your stomach twist. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening as he regarded you coolly, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, the way his lips pulled into a thin line.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked, voice deceptively smooth. But there was an edge to it now, a tightness that suggested he wasn’t as composed as he wanted to be.

You didn’t back down. You were angry, hurt—and a little bit scared—but you refused to let him control the situation. “You treat everything like a fucking transaction. A business deal. People don’t just want to be managed, Kokonoi. Especially not me.”

He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to calm himself. His gaze turned away from you for a moment, and you saw the tiniest crack in his perfect mask. That was enough to make your anger surge again. “You always pull this shit—act like you’re above everything and everyone. You shut people out every time someone tries to get close to you, but then you wonder why things don’t work out. You can’t keep using people like this and expecting them to just… understand.”

Kokonoi’s gaze snapped back to yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but the storm of emotions swirling between you two. His eyes were unreadable, but you could see the flicker of something in them—something real.

“You think I don’t know that?” he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was low, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. “I know what I do. I know how I am. But I can’t afford to let things get messy. I can’t afford to let people get in the way.”

You took a step forward, anger and confusion warring inside you. “But you’re letting me get in the way, Kokonoi. And I’m not going anywhere. But if you keep shutting me out like this… I won’t stick around forever.”

His eyes widened for a moment, something like panic flashing across his face, before it disappeared just as quickly. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was low and steady again, but with a palpable tension simmering beneath it.

“Don’t do this. Don’t make me say things I don’t want to say,” he growled.

You shook your head, feeling a mix of hurt and something else—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “I’m not making you do anything, Kokonoi. You don’t have to say anything. Just… stop pretending everything’s fine. Stop pretending you don’t care.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and you almost thought he wouldn’t respond. But then, without warning, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you in two long strides. His hand shot out to grab your wrist, pulling you against him in a sudden movement that stole your breath.

Before you could even process what was happening, his lips were on yours.

It was a kiss full of heat, frustration, and something else—something deeper—that he’d clearly been holding back for too long. Kokonoi kissed you roughly, his mouth urgent and demanding as if he were trying to drown in you, to erase the tension and doubts that had been building between you both for far too long.

His hands were in your hair, his grip possessive, as he kissed you again and again—harder each time, like he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. There was no gentleness, no calculated control; just the rawness of everything he’d been holding in. His kiss spoke volumes, words he couldn’t say out loud, feelings he hadn’t known how to express until now.

When he pulled back, he was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. His hand still gripped your wrist, and his other hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that took you by surprise.

“I’m not good at this,” he muttered, his voice rougher now. “I don’t know how to do this. How to let you in.”

You took a breath, still feeling the heat of his kiss on your lips. “You don’t have to be perfect, Kokonoi. Just stop shutting me out.”

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze softening just the slightest bit. “I don’t know how to do anything but push people away,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But when it’s you... I don’t want to push you away.”

You smiled gently, your heart aching for him. “Then stop. You don’t have to keep pretending.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, softer, but with the same depth of feeling. And for the first time in a long time, Kokonoi Hajime let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to let someone in.

_________________________________________________________

Izana Kurokawa:

Izana doesn’t argue like others do. He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t lash out. He just goes cold, distant — an unreadable mask hiding everything that’s wrong inside of him.

The argument doesn’t start with any real venom. A few clipped words. A bitter silence hanging between you both, like an invisible thread about to snap. But Izana, ever the master of restraint, lets you do the talking. Letting you say everything you need to say, no matter how much it stings. He stays quiet, letting it all land on him — the weight of your words, the sharpness of your anger. It’s easier this way, he tells himself. You’re angry, and he doesn’t know how to fix it, so he’ll let you have your say. He’ll take it. Let you vent. Let you go.

But when you finally say it — the words that break him — it’s like a switch is flipped inside him. You’ve had enough. You’re done. You’re walking away.

“I’m leaving, Izana. I can’t do this anymore.”

For the first time in years, he’s truly scared. You don’t see it, but he’s trembling, his fists clenched at his sides. You think this fight is over. You think you’ve won. You think you’ve broken free from him.

But the second you reach for the door handle?

Izana is on you.

He’s across the room in the blink of an eye, his hand slamming against the door, blocking your escape. The cold look on his face is replaced with a dangerous flicker in his eyes — something desperate, something you’ve never seen before.

“You don’t get to leave. Not you. Not after everything.”

The words are sharp, strained, like they’re clawing their way out of him. He’s terrified. Terrified that you’ll walk out of his life like everyone else did. He can’t lose you, not like this. Not now.

Before you can say anything, before you even know what’s happening, he’s kissing you.

Hard. Rough. Desperate.

His lips are on yours with such force that it’s almost painful. You can feel the heat of his body pressing against you, his hands gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. It’s not tender. It’s not loving. It’s raw. Desperate. He doesn’t know how else to make you stay, to make you feel the weight of how much he needs you.

You try to pull away. You try to breathe. But he won’t let you. Not until you’re gasping for air, until your hands are clutching his shirt, until you realize that this isn’t just a kiss — it’s everything he’s been holding back. The anger, the fear, the hurt. All of it pouring into you with every frantic kiss.

He pulls away just enough to speak, his breath shaky, his eyes wild with emotion. There’s a break in his voice, a crack that betrays the mask he’s been wearing for so long.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t... I can’t go through that again.”

It’s not an excuse. It’s not a plea. It’s a broken confession. A raw, desperate admission that he is just as fragile as everyone else. That he, too, has fears he can’t manage. That you — you — are the one person who’s kept him tethered to this world.

He doesn’t know how to be gentle. Doesn’t know how to show you how much you mean to him without this overwhelming need to hold on — to make you stay. His lips find yours again, softer this time, but still just as needy. His hand cradles your face, almost tenderly, as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of you, of having you.

But it’s still not enough. It’ll never be enough.

He pulls back again, his forehead resting against yours. You can feel his heart racing. His hands tremble, not from anger, but from something far more terrifying to him — the fear of losing you.

“Please... don’t leave me.”

The words are quieter this time. They hang in the air between you, full of a desperate vulnerability that he’s never shown anyone. He’s frightened. Frightened of being abandoned again. Frightened that you’ll be just another person who walks away when things get too hard.

You look at him, your heart pounding in your chest. He’s still holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear at any moment. And for the first time in his life, he lets you see all of him — the broken parts, the terrified, desperate man hiding behind the control.

He kisses you one more time. Softly. Gently. A kiss that isn’t about holding on anymore. It’s about wanting. Wanting you to stay. Wanting to fix what’s broken inside of him. Wanting to believe that maybe — just maybe — someone could love him without running away.

But even in this moment of quiet, his hands are still on you. His grip is still firm, because he knows — deep down — that he can’t let you go. Not like this. Not ever.

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ageingfangirl2 · 28 days ago

Text

Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

PART 7: YOU COME BACK TO THE OFFICE & A SURPRISE VISIT

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE

A FEW DAYS LATER

You show up that morning a little stiff but smiling again. Not the brittle kind from before — a real, if tired, smile. Your eyes still carry the grief, but the weight’s less suffocating now. You even laugh when Sanzu tosses you a new office plant ‘to replace the emotional void’ left by your cat.

You get back to work like nothing happened. But you start to notice things. Kakucho keeps hovering, just enough to be noticeable. Always within a few seconds of you. Koko no longer leaves his phone out when you’re around, like he's hiding a thread he doesn't want you to pull on. Ran and Rindou keep making side comments about ‘people getting what they deserve’ every time the news is on. Takeomi keeps calling you ‘kid’ a little softer now. Mikey, for once, actually nods when you walk past. That alone is suspicious.

At lunch, she leans on the counter in the break room, eyes narrowed. ‘It’s kind of weird,’ she says casually to whoever’s nearby — maybe Sanzu or Mochi. ‘He hasn’t texted. Called. Shown up. Nothing. He’s never gone silent this long before.’

Sanzu, with his usual chaotic smirk, just shrugs. ‘Maybe he finally took the hint. Men like that get bored when they don’t get a reaction, right?’

‘Maybe,’ you say, unconvinced.

That evening, when you’re packing up your bag, Kakucho lingers nearby, pretending to look over a file.

you glance up. ‘Hey… Kakucho?’

He looks over.

‘You’d tell me, right? If something happened to him?’ you ask, not sure if you wanted an honest answer or not.

He pauses. His expression doesn't change much — calm, unreadable- but there's a flicker of something in his eyes. Regret? Protectiveness? A tiny, quiet lie was already forming.

‘He’s not going to hurt you again,’ he says softly. ‘That’s all you need to know.’

And you watch him. Watch the way he says it, like a promise. You don’t push. Just nod slowly, ‘Okay.’ Then, with a small smile, ‘Good.’

And you leave the office like you believe it. But the look on your face as the elevator doors close? You know something’s been done. And you don’t ask again. Because a part of you — a quiet, vengeful part — doesn’t want to know.

You step out of the cab, bags in hand, and see him. Slumped against your apartment building like a kicked dog. Clothes wrinkled. Eye twitching. Hands trembling from either fear or withdrawal — it’s hard to tell.

His head jerks up when he sees her. ‘You have to help me.’

Your blood runs cold. But you keep walking.

He follows. Rambling, ‘I don’t know who the hell you know, but someone’s after me. My car’s gone. My office froze my accounts. People are looking at me like I’m a monster.’ His voice cracks. ‘I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean for—’

You unlock the door, get inside and try to slam it shut. But he shoves his way in behind you. Inside your apartment, it feels like the air itself has gone still.

He stares at you — wild-eyed, desperate — hands out like he still has some right to plead, ‘You don’t get it,’ he says. ‘They’ll ruin me. Just tell them to stop. Please.’

You whisper, voice like glass, ‘Why did you kill him?’

He freezes.

She takes a step back. Another, ‘Why did you kill my cat?’

He flinches like you struck him, ‘You were supposed to choose me.’

That’s all he says before you turn and lock yourself in the bathroom.

You stare at the mirror. Your reflection is pale. Your hands shake. You grab your phone. Contacts. Scrolls.

Detective Yamada — her friend’s cop contact.

911

Koko

Kakucho

Ran

Rindou

Takeomi

Mochi

Sanzu

Mikey

Your thumb hovers. The logical choice is the police. But your breath catches when you think about it: The police couldn’t stop him before. They didn’t listen when he screamed at you. Or gaslit you. Or controlled you. They weren’t there when you got a package with a corpse inside. Bonten was. And they fixed it.

The banging on the door starts up again. ‘Please! Just tell them to stop! I’m losing everything!’

Your thumb moves. Not to the police. You tap Koko’s name.

It rings once, ‘You home?’ His voice is calm. Steady. Like he knew this might happen.

You swallow hard. ‘He’s here,’ your voice shakes. ‘He followed me in. I’m in the bathroom. He’s… losing it.’

There’s silence on the line, then ‘Leave the door locked. We’re on our way.’

No questions. No hesitation. Just a promise.

It doesn’t take long. You sit on the cold bathroom floor, phone still in hand, listening to your ex mutter and pace on the other side of the door. You hear him rummaging through your apartment — opening drawers, knocking something over. It sounds like he’s trying to figure out how to make you help him.

Then you hear something else. Footsteps. Heavy. Measured. The front door slams open with a sound like thunder.

A voice — cold and sharp, ‘Step away from the door.’

Your heart stops. You don’t need to guess who it is. Kakucho. Then Sanzu. Laughing.

‘Aw, look at him. Like a kicked puppy. Pathetic.’

Your ex’s voice turns frantic. ‘Wait, please, I didn’t touch her! I just needed help!’

Ran sniggers, ‘You touched what mattered to her.’

There’s a scuffle. A crash. Something heavy slams into your hallway wall. You stay locked in the bathroom, trembling. Not out of fear. Out of relief.

The violence is swift and controlled — a reminder that this isn’t about losing control.

This is Bonten. They own control. You hear someone punch something — maybe someone — hard enough to make the whole floor vibrate.

Then, Mikey’s voice. Low. Flat. Disgusted, ‘You killed her cat. That was your first mistake,’ a pause, ‘Coming here? That was your last.’

Minutes pass. Then: a knock. Gentle.

‘It’s me,’ Kakucho says quietly.

You open the door slowly. He’s standing there, sleeves rolled up, a cut across his knuckle. He looks at you like you might shatter — but you don’t.

You just exhale, ‘Is he gone?’

He nods once. ‘He won’t come near you again. Ever.’

You walk out into the living room. Your ex is gone. Not a single drop of blood in sight — Bonten doesn’t leave messes — but the air is different. Cleared.

Koko is wiping his hands with a cloth. Ran and Rindou are near the window, laughing about how long the guy lasted. Sanzu’s leaning on the kitchen counter, tossing your keys in the air like they’re a trophy. Mikey is sitting on her couch, unreadable as ever.

They all look up when you enter. Not smug. Not waiting for thanks. Just… watching. Making sure you’re okay.

You walk past them, sit on your couch and exhale again. Then you look up, voice hoarse but calm, ‘So... what now?’

Takeomi shrugs, ‘Now you rest. Tomorrow we say you were sick. Couple days off, no big deal.’

‘And him?’ you ask, eyes fixed on the floor.

No one answers right away. Then, Mikey speaks — so quietly she almost misses it, ‘He doesn’t exist anymore.’

You don’t cry. You don’t thank them. You just lean back and let yourself feel safe for the first time in a long time.

And when you finally break the silence, it’s to say, ‘I loved that cat.’

Kakucho sits beside you. Just nods, ‘We know.’

And that’s enough.

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to-thelakes · 8 months ago

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heard ( carmy berzatto x reader )

content warnings; depiction of panic attack and anxiety, mentions of suicide/death (mikey), reader gets a cut (but super minor)

summary; you've had a really overwhelming day and carmy has to calm you down from a panic attack he mostly caused

dropping this here and running, i'm in love with carmy berzatto, i'm so sorry

Working at the Beef was stressful. Usually, you didn’t mind. In fact, you loved it. The stress meant that you didn’t have time to overthink anything because you were being ordered to do a million things all at once. It was good. You loved it.

But not today.

Carmy had given you a new recipe to learn and you were fucking up creating the pea puree. Somehow it always ended up too runny and no matter how you changed the temperature while you cooked or how long you left it to reduce, it turned out like shit. Runny, tasteless shit.

It was like the universe had decided to take a cosmic shit on your already fucked up day.

You had left the house at the ass crack of dawn and unintentionally woken up your roommate who had decided to call you and berate you for your entire journey on the L. It’s safe to say you were regretting your 12 month lease with the roommate from hell. But you tried your best to swallow down all the cruel words and carry on with your day.

Work had always been a good distraction but it was two hours till service started and you felt like you were already losing it. You were sure everyone could see how you were cracking under the pressure too.

As you tried to learn the new dish, Carmen would come over every five or so minutes to check on your progress, taste the dish and you could see him getting increasingly frustrated under the surface.

He had been unusually calm since the start of the day but the cracks were beginning to show. Since everyone had come in, Marcus had been distracted by his desserts which meant he had ignored all his usual prepwork. Carmy had kindly tried to remind him that desserts was not his job yet. Then Sydney and Richie had been arguing all morning which Carmy, of course, found himself in the middle of that.

On top of that, Richie had decided that today was the perfect day to bring up how Carmy shouldn’t have even owned this place. That it was Richie’s place and just because Mikey had left it to him didn’t mean shit.

That had riled Carmy up and the two had a screaming match in the front room before Carmy came stalking back through to the office. You knew that if you fucked up on more attempt at this sauce, he was gonna lose his shit at you.

You had never been at the receiving end of his anger before so you knew that if he lost it, so would you.

So as you fired up the next attempt, you replayed every piece of advice that Carmy and Sydney had given you since the start of the day and tried your best. You really tried. Even if T had distracted you halfway through, you thought that the puree had come out perfect.

And you were relieved. Because in your attempt to create this dish, you had forgotten about the rest of your prep work.

“Fuck,” You cursed under your breathe as you noticed Carmy heading your way. You knew that you were about to be shouted at, you could just tell, and you could feel the anxiety rising in your chest. You had just finished plating your latest attempt and the puree seemed to be at the right consistency. Hell, it even looked good. Your station was spotless and clean. There was nothing Carmen could be mad about.

Except for no prep work.

You glared at the plastic tubs of veggies like they could have done anything to change your fate.

“How's it looking, Chef?” Carmy asked, a frustrated edge to his voice. You snapped your head towards him and forced a smile onto your face. The tension in the room seemed to increase ten fold at that action.

“Pretty sure I finally got it down, just need to finish prepping the veg and then I’m ready for service,” You responded, forcing a smile onto your face. Carmy nodded and you passed him a fork, slipping away to the box of veggies. This was probably going to take you until dinner service.

You really fucked up but you ignored the anxious feeling in your gut in favour of beginning your prepwork. With a knife in hand, you quickly began to chop. You were skilled with a knife. That had been the main thing you were good at, something that Carmen had praised you endlessly for in the few weeks he had been here.

So, you hoped that if you just got the prep done quickly and perfectly, it would alleviate some of the simmering anger.

But then you heard a fork clatter harshly against a plate and you whipped your head to look at him. There was no alleviating the anger now. He was a powder keg about to explode and you had just triggered it..

“It’s a simple fucking dish, Chef! How do you keep fucking this up?” He shouted as he stared at you. You were looking back down at your prepwork again, going back to chopping. He slammed his hand on the counter, “Hey!” The whole kitchen’s eyes were on you now, “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” He snapped. You stopped dead in your tracks, looked at him, wide-eyed. He had caught you off guard and that pissed him off even more, “It’s a fucking pea puree. I could make this when I was 12 and you still can’t get it fucking right! It’s so fucking simple. Do I need to fucking baby you through every step? Jesus fucking Christ! A toddler could do this better than you can and you’ve been at it for fucking four fucking hours. Stop wasting everyone’s time and if you can’t get it right then get the fuck out!” He snapped. You blinked at him, frozen to your spot, “Don’t just fucking stand there, get to work!” He slammed his hand on the side again.

You nodded, mumbled “Yes, Chef” and went back to prepping your veg as Carmy picked up your plate and threw the attempt at the dish in the bin. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to feel the overwhelming anxiety that was making you dizzy. You couldn’t breathe.

Your whole body felt like it was on high alert, ready to give up at any given moment. You tried to suck in deep breaths but suddenly the kitchen felt too hot. You couldn’t do this. Sydney noticed.

“Go take a breather, I got this,” She came up beside you, hand on your shoulder. You shook your head, not wanting to disappoint Carmen even more. Prepwork was where you excelled, this is what you did best. You didn’t trust yourself to speak though, you could feel your chest restricting.

You continued chopping, it became more frenzy-like as Sydney glanced around. The whole kitchen had watched your interaction with Carmy, unsure how to react to it. Sydney didn’t know what to say.

But then you sliced your finger. You were moving too quickly, mind not being able to catch up with your hand quick enough to avoid the slice. You cried out as your knife clattered to the chopping board. You grabbed tissue and quickly wrapped it up as you stepped back.

“Go get a plaster, I’ll finish your prep,” Sydney reiterated as she gently pushed you away from your station. You shook your head, desperately trying to keep up. You couldn’t but then you felt the ground feel like it was tilting under your feet.

Maybe she was right. You needed to get out and so you went straight for the backdoor. You didn’t even bother to clean up your cut, just holding the tissue to it as you stumbled down the steps to the alley.

Your back slammed against the wall as you sucked in breaths but it was like you couldn’t get enough oxygen. The tears started and you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t do it. You slowly slid down the wall, still squeezing the tissue over your cut.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t do it. You were doomed to be a failure and you couldn’t fucking breathe and it was too hot.

Your arms wrapped over the top of your head, eyes squeezed shut as you desperately tried to take in deep breaths but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. You were sure you were going to die like this. It would be the end of you.

In the fucking back alley of a shitty restauraunt with a shitty new owner and the last owner killed himself and you weren’t surprised. You couldn’t do this. You were choking on nothing.

Then a hand suddenly came to rest against your knee and your legs were being pushed down. You were trying to fight it, words of whoever it was coming through like they were trying to speak through water.

“You gotta breathe,” They said as they finally managed to break through your strength to straighten your legs out. You dropped your hands to your lap and when you looked up, Carmy was there. You felt the panic come back twice as hard and you turned your face away, bringing your knees back up. But he shoved them back down.

“Hey, hey,” His tone had softened. It didn’t seem as angry anymore and that terrified you. Angry men who pretended not to be were the worst kind of men. You still couldn’t breathe, the panic constricting your chest as you stared at your legs, “You gotta just breathe,” Carmy said as he reached out. He grabbed your hand, the bloody tissue still wrapped around your cut, “I know it’s hard,” He said as he glanced at your face. You were completely boneless, it was like your body had lost all its will to live.

Your world was tilting underneath you and you couldn’t think straight. Carmy’s touch was somewhat grounding though as he unwrapped the tissue and wiped the cut before putting a band-aid over it. It gave you something to focus on but you were terrified that he was going to scream at you.

“I’m sorry,” You managed through panicked breaths. He nodded, “I don’t know what’s wrong,” You choked out. The tears filling your eyes as you stared down at your bandaged hand. You still weren’t breathing right but the panic was slowly starting to fall away, “I keep trying but I can’t do anything right today,” You lifted your knees up again, wrapping your arms around your head again.

“You're constricting your throat,” He said as he nudged your knees again. He was sitting against the wall beside you, watching you.

As frustrated as he was with you and as angry as he was that you couldn’t just make the fucking dish, he also didn’t like seeing you like this. He cared about everyone in his kitchen and the thought that he had given you a panic attack tore him up inside. He didn’t know how to express it. He had always been shit at apologies.

You straightened your knees out again, letting your arms rest against your thighs as you closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Chef,” You said after a beat, “I know I should have done my veg prep earlier and the recipe is easy. I’ve made pea puree before, ask Sydney, I just- I don’t know why I can’t get it right today,” You muttered. Carmy looked at you, the corners of his lips turned down a little and you looked so defeated, “I’ve been off my game and I have this roommate from Hell that makes me think I’m so goddamn selfish. I just,” You let out a ragged breathe, tears welling in your eyes, “I promise, I’ll be good for dinner service,” you muttered. Carmy looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed ever-so-slightly.

“You’re not selfish,” Carmy responded.

“Heard,” You muttered. He nodded and then turned back to look up at the sky, as did you. It was so strange with Carmy. He never really said much. He’d been here for about a month now and he was desperately trying to claw the business out of the ground. He seemed to care so much but he had an odd way of showing it, I suppose.

“I’ll show you how to make it again,” He said after a minute or two of silence. You nodded.

“Thank you.” You let out a soft breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You hadn’t fucked up that much, at least.

“You two fuckers just gonna sit there or help us?” The voice of Richie broke through the relative calm that had settled between you. It was probably the quickest you had come down from a panic attack, ever.

“Like you fucking help us anyway,” You bit back as you slowly pushed yourself to your feet. Carmy was quick to follow.

“Doing a lot more than you lazy fucks right now, sat there staring at the sky like God’s gonna answer your fucking prayers,” Richie continued to bitch as you walked inside with him. Carmy followed quickly after.

“I don’t pray," You stated as you rounded the corner back to your station. Sydney was mostly done with your prep now and you were beyond thankful, “I got it from here,” You said, slipping in next to her. Sydney smiled, glad to see you feeling a bit better.

“Why’s he so calm?” Sydney asked as she watched Carmy walk past. He seemed in a better mood than he had been a moment ago.

“Fuck knows, thought he’d tell me to fuck off when he found me,” You admitted as you glanced back at him. His fucking arms drove you wild and the fact that he had his hands on you, forcing you to straighten your legs. Fuck. You didn’t want to think about it too much. And he had put that plaster on you, the warmth of his hands was something else. If you hadn’t been so fucked up with anxiety, you probably would have jumped his bones.

“You gonna fuck up another dish?” Sydney teased as she stepped away, passing you a glove for your plastered hand.

“I’m getting a private lesson for it actually,” You retorted, a smile plastered on your face as you winked at Sydney.

“Less talking, more chopping,” Carmy said as he slipped past the two of you. You nodded.

“Yes, Chef,” You both parotted back to him. Sydney grinned and headed back to her station while you settled back into prep. You felt more like yourself now. Though, you did also really want a piece of Carmy.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #reader insert #one-shot #carmen berzatto fluff?

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dancingdonatello · 4 months ago

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OH EM GEE you writing is so good itcleansesmephysically

Anyhoo sorry for bothering on such busy days (new years and all that) but I was wondering if you could write rottmnt boys x reader (separately😓) who writes them “anonymous” love letters?? Reader thinks they are super mysterious and secretive but the turtles have known from the beginning its them but just chose to stay quiet ^_^

rottmnt x reader

Raph never tells you that he knows it’s you. He doesn’t want you to stop writing them. He loves them and keeps them safely tucked into a cardboard box so he can reread them whenever he wants. He always makes sure to hug you extra tight the next time he sees you.

He also likes how you shyly glance at him whenever he picks up a letter. And how you get all awkward around him afterward.

Leo tapes all of them to the walls of his room and even makes you read them out loud to him. You’re very suspicious that he knows but he always tells you that he doesn’t. He even decides to frame some of them.

Every time he gets a new one, he dances around the lair and shoves the letter into his family’s faces, just to rub it in. He also enjoys how embarrassed you get over it.

Donnie has no idea how you forgot about the cameras he had placed everywhere, but you somehow managed to. Of course he knows it was you who left him a letter every few months.

He never mentions it to you, you never mention it to him. Of course he keeps all of them. He makes digital copies of each one and safely files them away into the folder he has that is solely for you. It’s not creepy. He swears.

Mikey is overjoyed each time he gets them. He’ll try and do something nice for you each time he gets one, just so he doesn’t feel too guilty. He tries not to be too obvious about it either, but you somewhat catch on when he sends you secret flowers a day after writing him a heartfelt letter.

He’s all gooey and sweet to you after he reads one too, but when you get embarrassed at the chance that he might know it’s you and stop writing them, he gets all depressed. You two slowly develop a balance of ‘secretly’ sending each other stuff.

#tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #donatello x reader #rise tmnt x reader #rise donatello x reader #rise donnie x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt raphael hamato x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt michelangelo x reader

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kenslilove · 1 year ago

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᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?!

preview. Draken swears he doesn’t only go for little sisters. But when you, Takemichi’s younger sister, walks into his shop….

ft. Ken “Draken” Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 6.5k 🤡😅

W. NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI! bimbo reader, age gap (draken is late 20’s workin at the bike shop, you’re in early 20’s in collage) fem reader, corruption, dubcon (reader is intoxicated when they consent), virgin killer draken, oral (f!receiving), cream pie, a lil after care, praise and lots of it, drakens a scumbag but in a hot way🤪🤤 he comes around though, I promise 🤭

an. Hiiii pookies <33 this is a repost from my old account, but I’m reposting it here because I’m bringing this series back to life. This fic as well as part 2 hold such a special place in my heart, and now that my inspo is back and I’m ready to add to this little story, I hope you guys can join me on the ride hehe <33 I hope you enjoy! I love Kenny 💖 reblogs, comment, and constructive feedback are always welcome 🫶

“Draken, you have a thing for little sisters.”

“I do not.”

The look on everyone’s faces begs to differ.

First, it was Emma, and although the relationship didn’t work out between the two, she was still Mikey’s little sister.

“Can’t believe I ever let you near my sister, sister fucker.” Mikey mumbles into the lip of his beer, making the rest of the boys laugh out loud.

“Wait— who’s sister is he going for now?”

Takemichi’s comment had them all silencing instantly, eyes going to him as if he just asked the stupidest question on earth. Draken tried to use Takemichi’s idiocy to his advantage, waving away the conversation with a hand.

“No one—“

“Yours, obviously Takemichi.” Mitsuya blurted, much to Draken’s distaste, who dropped his forehead against the table with a groan.

“What?!”

Draken believed it wasn’t his fault, truly it couldn’t be. After the fallout with Emma, he swore to himself that the girls he went for would strictly be disconnected from his found family. Things were going well for him, so many beautiful girls passed by his shop, he even went on a date with a handful of them.

But he seemed to forget all of them when you walked into his shop.

There you were, bright-eyed, little miniskirt, lips pulled into the cutest pout he had ever seen. He was taken back when you finally met his gaze, pretty eyes widening a bit as you gasped.

“Ah! Found the right place! You’re Draken-Kun, right?”

The honorific had his heart racing, making him internally swear at himself from getting so excited just from something so simple.

“Uh yeah, that’s me.”

“Nii-chan said he’d be here, was supposed to meet him at ‘Draken-Kun’s shop’ buuuut—“ there was that cute pout again. “I don’t see him!”

He swallowed down a lump that seemed to block all his words. Why was his throat so dry? Why were you blinking up at him so perfectly?

“Uh— yeah, this is my shop but, who’s— who’s your brother?”

“Oh! Michi! Takemichi!” Your smile got even brighter when you said his name. Blinding almost.

Draken really hated the fact that it made his cock twitch.

“Fuck.” He murmured, bringing a hand up to rub the furrow from his brows. You tilted your head in confusion, reaching out and giving one of his biceps a squeeze.

“What was that, Draken-Kun?”

You sounded so concerned, so sorry for someone you didn’t even know. Draken quickly shook you off, before the simple touch of your soft palm made his cock harder than it already was. “No, nothing, it’s nothing. He’s— he’s upstairs.”

“Thank you~!” Sweet as sugar, you basically skipped towards the staircase, a hum in your voice when you called out to Takemichi.

And Draken watched until you disappeared. He watched the sway of your hips, watched your cute little heels clack up the stairs, and he certainly watched the way the swell of your ass became visible when you reached a certain step, along with an outline of lacy panties that were meant to stay hidden.

Fuuuuuuck—

Draken left the boys earlier than usual, hands buried deep in his pockets and a scowl on his face. Takemichi’s angry face was stuck in his head, along with his bitching that only made the boys tease him harder.

“You better not fuck my sister Draken! She’s too sweet for you bro!”

“Whatever—“ Draken mumbled to himself, his breath leaving him in a puff of air due to the cold that surrounded him. He was heading back to his apartment, wanting to slip into bed and hope that the boys would get so hammered tonight they’d forget everything discussed.

When his phone started to buzz he groaned again, ready to tell Mikey no he wasn’t coming back and to fuck off. What he wasn’t expecting to see was your contact name on his screen.

He really should have just let it go to voicemail, in fact, he should delete your number period. But, he picked it up on the very last ring, bringing the phone to his ear with hesitation.

“Hello?”

“D-Draken!!” You were whining— voice a bit slurred and muffled. Was there music in the background? Draken couldn’t really tell. He held his fingers to his other ear in an attempt to hear you better as you started to ramble.

“Can’t— I can’t hear you,” Draken said, trying his best to keep the annoyance from his tone as.. wait, were you crying?

“I-I’m at a stupid party dra! A-and Michi won’t answer his phone b-but I wanna go home! T-There’s this boy here a-and he won’t leave me alone and I-I’m too drunk—“

Draken felt himself tense up at the mention of some boy.

“Slow down…” He sounded calmer now, his apartment coming into view. “Send me your address, I’ll come to get you.”

“P-Please Draken, don’t wanna be here anymore, wanna go.”

It was the way you whined so desperately, so pretty. Draken knew this was bad, knew you didn’t even try to call him first.

But you still called him. Still trusted him enough.

“I’ll get you, sweetheart.” He was swearing at himself for the pet name that left his mouth without permission, but when you made the cutest little hum on the other end of the phone he quickly forgot his worries. “Send me the address right now while you’re on the phone. Do ya know how?”

He was already in the parking garage as your location pinged on his phone. He easily spotted his bike, hopping on as you continued to blubber into the phone.

“C-come now, promise you’ll come now dra—“

“I’m coming, promise. Stay where you are.”

He hung up and sped out of the garage before his right mind could catch up.

The address was some grungy trap house. The smell of cheap liquor and sex seemed to waft from the door as piles of drunk university kids spilled free. He waited until he saw you, finally, heels in hand and bare feet stepping into the damp grass to get to him.

He bit the inside of his cheek. You looked drunk, mascara already ran down your cheeks and little sniffles left you as you approached the bike. He tried to keep his eyes off the low cut of your tank top, but it was hard when you flung yourself at him, clinging to his waist with that pretty whine he loved hearing so much.

“D-Draaaaa~!” You carried the ‘A’, pressing your damp cheeks into the leather of his jacket, along with pressing your chest into his side. He brought his hand to your back, eyes rolling as he went to pat it.

Only to feel that you weren’t wearing a bra.

Keep it together, Ken.

“Get on, c'mon you’re gonna catch a cold.” He was quick to throw his jacket over you, slipping you in front of him cause honestly, he didn’t trust you to hold on tight enough to him in your drunk state.

So he had you sitting in front of him. He instructed you to put your hands on the handle bras, sensing your hesitation as you continued to sniffle and whimper. He pressed his chest into your back, lips close to your ear.

“It’s alright, I won’t let anything happen to you. Put 'em down.” He felt the way you shivered, and he hated the way it made him smirk. When you finally planted your hands down he placed his much larger hands over yours. They completely engulfed your palms, and he hoped that the little whine you let out now was because of that.

He reeved off quickly, trying to slow himself down but unable to control himself as he sped off towards his place with you in tow.

He ended up carrying you up the stairs to his apartment. He had originally tried to work your heels back on, but you were very much against that, sending him your best pout along with a little “nuh-uh! Don’t wanna!” And since he didn’t want you stepping on anything nasty he settled for picking you up instead.

You were on his back, arms slung over his shoulder as you babbled nonsense in his ear. Something about how you drank too much tequila and ‘but how can you say no to free shots?’ Draken just shook his head, gripping one of your thighs a bit tighter as he worked his apartment door open.

“Easy.” He spoke as he placed you on the ground. You giggled when your legs wobbled, quick to grip onto Draken’s arm yet again as you finally let your heels tumble to the ground.

“Takemichi would kill you if he knew you were this drunk,” Draken stated, trying to keep the amusement from his voice as you used the wall to help yourself towards the couch. You looked back at Draken and stuck your lip out in a pout, before sticking your tongue out.

“Michi isn’t my daddy, I do what I want~!”

Draken almost choked on his spit. Did you really have to talk like that— say that in the cutest little voice? He was grateful when you started your trek to the couch again, so he could fix the bulge that started to form in his joggers.

“Oh, yea? Well, you shouldn’t, you can barely stand. And who was this guy feeding you shots?” Just the thought of some loser college boy trying to get you drunk, preying on you, made his brows twitch, knuckles tensing as he made his way to meet you on the couch.

“Ugh, just some loser. Claims he’s in a gang dra, just like you and Michi used to— but he’s no bad boy, no no he’s a creep~!”

“Yea?” Draken just chuckled coldly, fetching you a water bottle from the fridge. “Must be a real classy group of delinquents if they’re targeting girls like that—“

His voice got caught again when he finally saw you on his couch.

You had worked his jacket off you, sprawled yourself out on the cushions without a care in the world. The little tube skirt you were wearing was hiked up dangerously high, leaving little to the imagination as you turned your face away from the cushions, looking up at Draken.

And you had the audacity to giggle, “You’re couch s’comfy dra~”

one of your legs threatened to topple right off the couch, but if that happened, well it would certainly make the wimpy material hike all the way up.

Draken caught your knee before it had the chance, only making you giggle more. His heart was pounding against his rib cage, blood pumping dangerously fast to his crotch as he shot you a disappointed look.

“Be careful.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, and when you looked at him, eyes wide and glossy…

Draken had to have more willpower than this, didn’t he?

“D-Don’t be mean t’me” You were whining again, rolling over and pressing your face into the couch. Your leg slipped from his touch, and he thought maybe he’d be in the clear now.

But when you curled up, the skirt he put too much faith in hiked up, letting the swell of your ass free. Draken wanted to turn away, or at least throw a pillow at you, but he couldn’t seem to rip his eyes away from your pretty, soft skin.

You were still mumbling, something about him bossing you around. But Draken finally shook himself from the dangerous trance he was in, clicking his tongue and grabbing at your shoulder.

“Up, cmon, you’re going to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.” You spoke, voice nothing bratty as you tried to slip from his grasp. Draken wasn’t having any of it, not when he was only seconds from snapping.

“Too bad. Get up. You need water and sleep.”

“Nooo~!” You looked back at him, perfect lips pouting and this cute sense of defiance in your gaze that still swam with unclarity.

Draken wasn’t sure what it was that finally made him snap. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, maybe it was the brattiness that he knew he could work outta you, maybe it was how your ass now pressed into his thighs.

But whatever it was, it didn't matter. He was pressing his lips to yours, swallowing the little shocked gasp you pushed against his lips. He only pulled away when his lips began to pulse, a shaking breath puffing out against your trembling lower lip.

He kept his eyes glued to yours as his thumb swiped at the drool that lingered on your lip, another click leaving his tongue.

“Messy…” he murmured, more to himself than to you as you batted your lashes up at him, leaned into his touch as if on instinct.

Draken shoulda stopped. This would be the perfect time to back off, let you sleep off the alcohol on his couch and call Takemichi in the morning. Hell, you’re so drunk you probably wouldn’t even remember this little kiss.

But then you spoke.

“D-Dra.. y-your lips are reaaaal soft.”

“Fuck.” He swore for real this time, ignoring any sense as he pressed his lips to yours once again. It was so cute how hesitant you were, fingers trembling softly as they ran through his black ponytail. He had no problem slipping his hands beneath you, easing you up and into his lap.

“Fuck.” He mumbled it into your open mouth this time, feeling your warm little cunt pressing into his crotch. The panties you wore did little to conceal your sex, and it didn’t help that you were squirming in his lap, hips twitching into him and nails digging along his shoulders.

He had to pull back again, his palms planted firmly on your hips to keep you still. “Can’t— fuck. You can’t squirm like that baby.” He hated how desperate he already sounded, voice going down an octave and raspier than usual.

You bit the tip of your nail, face heating up along with the rest of your body as you slowly raised your gaze to meet Draken’s. “C-Can’t help it, I’ve never—“

Draken brows shot up, panic flooding his system. He did not want to hear you say you’d never kiss a guy before.

“Never sat in someone’s lap like this…” The relief washed over him, making his shoulders slump again. There was this swelling feeling in his chest, one that he didn’t exactly love, but he couldn’t stop it from coming.

It was the same feeling he got when he took Emma’s virginity.

“Oh, yea…? What else haven’t you done?” He was curious now, big hands rubbing reassuring circles into your hips. The skirt you were wearing before was useless now, bunched up at your hips and showing off the cute panties you wore. He tried not to stare as you tried to stutter out your words.

But Draken knew now, he was much weaker than he originally thought.

“I-I’ve kissed a guy! Obviously!! B-But…” There you were, pouting again. But the more Draken massaged at your hips, the more your whines started to sound like meek little mewls. “I-I just— I haven’t really done anything other than like.. touching I guess..”

He really hoped that you didn’t feel his cock twitching right under you.

Draken hummed in acknowledgement, bringing his face close to yours as soon as you looked down into your lap. “Just touching, yea? Have you ever held a dick before, sweetheart?”

“N-no!” He shouldn’t be teasing you like this, but he couldn’t help himself. His question just made you squirm again, and he enjoyed the friction just a little longer than he should have before he was gripping your hips again, giving you a more stern glance.

“I said, no squirming…” The corner of his lip twitched as you whimpered at him, eyes getting glassy all over again.

“M’sorry…” you spoke back through pouting lips, still having trouble meeting his gaze as your fiddled with the collar of his shirt.

Draken knew what he was doing was wrong, could hear the voices of his buddies taunting and teasing, claiming just how right they were about him. But being this close to you, seeing just how badly you wanted to hump against him, even if you were drunk.

How the hell was he supposed to let this opportunity go?

“Well… I don’t wanna spook you, angel. If ya haven’t done anything, I’ll just put you to bed, alright—“

“N-no!” Hook, line, and sinker.

“No?” Draken mused, his hands finally pulling you just a bit closer, his fingertips teasing over the flesh of your ass. You shook your head, clinging onto him a bit tighter.

“N-No I— I want…” your words trailed off, your own nerves getting the better of you.

Cute. It was so cute how words could get you flustered when you were already sitting in his lap, skirt pulled up and nothing but a little pair of panties keeping you away from him.

“Cmon. Use your words baby, what do you want.” He spoke to you with that same level of authority, watching the way your eyes slowly made their back up to his own.

“I-I want you to.. to teach me.”

He was smirking now, smug as ever. But it didn’t matter.

He had you right where he wanted you.

His lips were back on yours before you could continue to stutter, but this time he was lifting you up. He gripped your ass, urging your legs to cling to his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Draken placed you onto the mattress with ease, working himself between your thighs that already opened up to welcome him. He was pleased to see that when he pulled away from the kiss this time you were panting, lips a little swollen and chest heaving as you looked up at him.

Already so curious, so desperate for whatever he was willing to offer you.

“I’ll teach you, baby.” Draken was speaking into your skin, planting kisses along your cheeks, down the column of your neck. He felt your pulses with his lips, the steady beat only picking up in pace when he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “But, you have to listen, you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

He already knew your answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-Yes, I’ll be a good girl Dra…” you managed to whimper, voice slipping into a whine when his lips pushed over the flimsy strap of your tank top, dragging it down over your shoulder.

“Ken.” He laughed when you gave him this confused look. So naive, so very dumb.

But so very willing.

“Want you to call me Ken, can ya do that baby?”

When you realized what he was asking you let out a little “oh” and a nod, which pleased him to no end. His hand dragged your other strap down, leaving just a few inches left of coverage over your chest. It was the perfect place for him to pause, look you over just once more.

“Ask one more time for me baby, nice and pretty now.” This was his way of getting you to beg, and boy did you play into his hand so easily.

“P-Please Ken, please teach me, please—“

His will had broken long ago, the sweet sounds of your pleas, the tears that made your lashes clump. All of it had broken him down long before. His lips were back on your chest, one rough hand finally freeing your breasts from the confines of the little tank top you wore. He groaned as he squeezed each mound in his palms, the gasp you let put making his head feel light.

“Such pretty tits….” He murmured, his eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of your pretty nipples, which quickly peddled up as he smoothed his thumb over the bud. He poked his tongue out, curiosity getting the best of him as he swiped the wet muscle over your left nipple.

“O-Oh!--” Cute. He wanted to hear that little squeak on repeat, wrapping his lips around your nipple while he continued to massage the other. Your fingers quickly clung to his black hair, running through the soft locks before pulling him flush to your skin.

“F-Feels good Ken! Mhm! So good– I– want!!” Your words tumbled off your tongue mindlessly, mewls and whimpers getting pushed out as Draken released you with a pop. He licked his lips at your swollen bud, admiring the little indents his teeth had made before your tug on his hair snapped him back to reality.

“Watch it.” He warned, squeezing your breast hard enough to make you whimper. “Lemme take my time with you, Angel.”

“B-But–” You didn’t even know what you were pleading for, brain foggy as Drken moved on from your tits, large hands travelling to the hem of your skirt. The skirt was pulled from your legs with a few simple tugs, leaving you in nothing but a pair of dainty panties.

A pair that had a wet patch just waiting to be removed.

“You’re so cute…” Draken breathed out, his hands smoothing over your tummy, big enough to almost engulf your waist. Each touch of his fingertips on your skin left a tingling sensation, skin ablaze as you whimpered at him again, hips bucking off the mattress as he cupped your cunt.

“Please Ken…” You were gripping the sheets as he fiddled with the hem of your panties. Hooking his index finger under the material only to let it snap back against your sensitive skin. You could have cried from that, reaching for him.

Only for him to easily scoop up both wrists in one hand, pinning them back above your head. Although his eyes were nothing but stern, his lips were holding back a smirk, showing just how amused he was with how needy you became so quickly.

Although you didn’t notice, how could you when your only thought was him, his hands, his everything?

“Keep your hands up here, understood?” When he got a little whine and a nod he hummed in approval, pressing a feather-light kiss to your nipple. “Gunna teach ya how to feel good, but you can’t get in my way–”

“M’sorry, sorry Ken, won’t, please–” He let you babble on about apologize, easing your thighs open a little further. Once your fingers curled into the sheets above your head again he let go of your wrists, all focus drawn back to the little wet spot.

He was shameless as he pressed his nose into it, your scent instantly making him groan, pulling you closer to his face by the hips. He went as far as to nuzzle your covered pussy, pressing a kiss to where your clit was hiding under the fabric. You were trembling under his actions, each one making you whimper and whine for more.

“Smells sweet as candy, bet ya taste like it too, don’t ya?” There was a slur in his voice as his teeth took hold of the flimsy fabric, and rather than dragging it down your thigh he tore it off with one good tug.

You could have come right there, seeing the ruined pieces of your underwear dangling from his lips, the feral look in his eyes as he was finally met with the sight of your swollen pussy, covered in your own slick and making it glisten in the dim lighting.

He used two fingers to spread your lower lips apart, pupils only blowing out larger at the sight of your desperate little hole clenching at the air.

Beckoning him.

“First, you’re gonna come on my lips.” His voice was raspy, but it was enough to catch your attention, make you look at him with glossy eyes and a nod. “Gunna use my fingers too since I gotta work this pretty pussy open.”

“Kay ken, mhm… wanna feel you.” You muttered, the term pretty pussy making you flutter around nothing yet again. He just knew praise would make your brain turn off.

He licked one long stripe up your pussy, gathering the slick there. The action already had both of your groaning, a form hand on your hip keeping you pressed into the mattress as he let his tongue toy and flick at your pulsing clit.

“Oh! Yes–!” Every flick, every suck, every slurp of his tongue had you gasping, eyes squeezing out the pleasurable tears. It was like nothing you’d ever felt but you just needed more, needed to relieve that knot that was already so tight in your belly as Draken ate your pussy like it was his last meal.

You were just so sweet, just like he knew you would be, your arousal gushing onto his chin each time he kissed your clit. He knew you were wet enough by now, but he still spat a glob of saliva over your hole before slipping a finger into you.

Your mouth hung open in a little “o” as he pumped his thick finger in and out, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip at just how hard you squeezed his single finger.

Couldn’t help but think how tight you’d be when he finally bullied his cock into you.

“You’re so tight baby… gunna use another finger.” As much as he hated pulling his lips away from your pussy, he just had to see what your face looked like when he slid a second finger into you, and it did not disappoint.

You bit your already swollen lip, whimpering and attempting to buck away had it not been for the grasp on your hip. “S’too much, too much Ken–!”

“It’s just my fingers princess, you can take it…’ He was trying too hard to hold back his smirk, cooing praise as his fingers stretched out your gummy walls, in search of that one spot he knew would…

The tip of his index finally grazed the little lump, your eyes shooting open and your back arching from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“There it is…” Draken hummed, massaging into the spot, making your body tremble. “This is your sweet spot, angel, feels so good, doesn't it?”

You nod, words lost to you as drool dribbles freely from your open mouth. It made him grin, adrenaline pumping through him as your pussy milked his fingers just like it would milk his cock… just as soon as he had a taste.

“C’mon baby girl, come f’me, yea? It’s gonna feel so good.” Draken’s words are a promise as he locks his lips back onto your clit. He’s suckling the precious bud, all the while his fingers massage your g-spot. He knows you’re overwhelmed, can tell by the way you jolt and cry.

But he needs to taste you.

You gasp as heat washes over you, the knot in your stomach snapping apart slowly. It’s the subtle graze of Draken’s teeth against your clit that sets you over, a cry of his name with a mix of slur’s spilling from your lips as you gush on his fingers.

Draken groans, you sounded so much better than he imagined coming undone. His fingers were pulled free quickly just so his lips could latch onto your cunt, lewdly slurping up your arousal even as your hips tried to desperately wiggle away.

“Fuckkkkk….” Draken groans as he finally lifts his lips from your swollen lower lips, the sight of his eyes narrowed and his chin covered in your arousal making your face heat up, embarrassment making you bring your hands over your face.

He chuckles, hovering back over you to press wet kisses along your arms. “Why are you hiding from me baby? Did so good f’me, felt good didn’t it?” His free hand petting your pussy, smearing your arousal over your skin and only further making a mess of your inner thighs.

You look at him through your fingers, slowly pulling your hands away when you catch sight of his handsome smile. You nod at him, hips bucking into his palm despite the way your clit tingles. “Mhm… felt good Ken, really good.”

“Good. Wanna feel better?” He asks, sitting up on his hunches. He grips the back of his shirt, easily pulling his shirt up and over his head, and the sight of his abs as you mewling for more. Your hands finally leave the sheets just to touch him, trembling fingertips smoothing over his abs with glossy eyes. He was so… so pretty? You had always thought so, but never acted on it, of course…

When his thumb smooths over your lip to collect the drool that leaks there you snap from your trance, his devious smirk making you whine. “You’re so cute.” He murmured, the dumb little look in your gaze only making his cock twitch harder.

So cute and so dumb, Draken was truly the luckiest man on earth tonight.

His cock was painfully hard when he finally pulled himself free, leaking a generous amount of pre that he used to slick up his length. His smirk grew when he caught you staring again, eyes wide and biting down so hard on your lower lip.

He held a hand out for you, helping you sit up a bit. He took your hand and placed your much smaller one on his cock, and the sight alone made him groan low in his throat.

Your fingers just looked so small as they wrapped around his length, your thumb rubbing along one of his veins with so much curiosity. You squeezed him and he hissed, instantly making your hand go slack around him.

“Not so tight angel.”

“M’sorry Ken…” You licked your lips, figuring out how much pressure to apply as you worked your palm up and down his shaft. Each time you almost reached the top his thick mushroom head would flush an even brighter pink, his pre dribbling from his tip and onto your fingers. Draken watches with wide eyes as you brought your hand to your lips, licking away his arousal with a pretty little sound.

Fuck.

He took hold of your hips again, lifting them so he could slide one of his pillows under your lower back. This angle had your hips sticking up a bit, your legs perched over his calves as he sat between your thighs. “Lay back” He instructed, and you didn’t pause with his instruction, laying back into his pillows while keeping your eyes glued to his cock.

“It’s gonna sting.” He warned, knowing that sting was probably an understatement as he laid his cock over your cunt, biting his lip to see that his tip almost reached your belly button.

“M’ready.” and you were, you wanted to be, your curiosity was getting the better of you, feeling his length rub over your cunt to get more slicked up, each time his tip caught your clit made you more impatient, reaching for his free hand and squeezing it tightly.

Draken positioned himself at your opening, greedy little hole sucking in his tip with minimal effort. It’s when the girth hit that you finally gasped, your rings of muscles attempting to make way for Draken’s cock. He shushed you with gentle coos squeezing your hand back and pressing warm kisses along your tear-stained face.

“Relax for me, little love…” He murmured against your skin, two fingers rubbing away at your clit. Draken was so tense and he held himself back, every muscle in his body rippling as he bullied his cock into your warm gummy walls.

“I-I–” You were stammering, chest shaking as you sucked in a breath. He had to be almost all the way in, right? When you saw only half of his cock had been pushed in you cried out a little, head shaking.

“S’not, not gonna fit~!” You sobbed, eyes watery as your legs trembled around him. He pressed a kiss to your lips this time, his finger never ceasing the slow circles on your bud to help break you open for him.

“It’ll fit sweetheart, promise, and it’s gonna feel so good… need ya to relax, can ya do that.” He looked at you,, expectantly, and who were you to say no? Not that you wanted to, considering your pussy was still milking away at what fit. You nodded, giving his hand another squeeze as reassurance.

Draken sucked in a breath of his own, and with one good jerk of his hips, his cock bullied itself all the way in, knocking up against your cervix and making you cry out for him. His fingers pinched your clit, the squeeze of your walls making his eyes roll back.

“Fuck– Jesus Christ, that’s it baby, my fucking god, you feel so good.” His own grunts drowned out your whines, which his delight soon turned to little moans as he kept working at your clit, your pussy holding him snuggly and almost refusing to let up.

It was the subtle bulge on your tummy, the outline of his cock sitting between your plush walls that really made him snap. He started thrusting, hips creating a steady pace that had his balls tapping up against your ass with each thrust. Your lips hung open in a silent cry, each pull and push of his hips making your walls squeeze even tighter. You were already too dumbed out to realize that Draken had placed the pillows beneath you because each time he was flush against you his cock head sat snuggly against your sweet spot, making your vision blur with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby, fuck. Got such a tight cunt.” He growled out through clenched teeth, the ring of arousal that already formed at the base of his cock making his own mouth water. You squeezed him like a vice, somehow tightening up even more each time he praised you, each time his fingers flicked your clit. Draken usually held pride at the fact that he could last in bed, holding out for the sake of his lovers.

But you? He just had to fill you up quick, had to see the dumb little look in your eyes when he pumped you full of cum.

Hit thrusts started to shake your whole body, breasts bouncing each time his hips smacked into your ass. His lips captured yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue easily overpowering yours as your teeth clashed and drool fell down your chin. Your nails found purchase on his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped moons that had him groaning into your mouth.

“Milkin my cock like a good little girl, such a good girl.” He noticed your eyes rolling back, your body trembles ceasing only for a few moments as your high washes over you unexpectedly. Your vision went white when you came this time, the cry of his name making him hiss.

It was almost painful, the grip your pussy had on his cock as you gushed around him. The mess was beautiful, soaking your inner thighs and his pelvis, making a squelching sound each time he continued to pump into you.

“Fuckin came all over my cock?” he knew your answer but wanted to hear your sob out a pathetic little “yes” as he braces his arms on either side of your head. He knew better than this, knew that fucking into you this roughly, this sloppily could scare you off.

But your pussy was asking for it, leaving his cock drenched as he continued to knock up against your cervix, ground his hips so his dick massaged your g-spot. It didn’t take long for him to finish, his dick pulsing before spilling load after hot load into your walls.

You shivered at the feeling, body twitching and legs slowly loosening around him as his thrusts started to slow down. A bead of sweat fell from his brow and onto your face, making you whimper softly.

Draken was in a daze as he watched his cock slowly slip in and out of you. By the time he was all the way out, his length was covered in a shiny layer of arousal, milky and glistening. He sighed, a little flutter going off in his chest as your battered pussy clenched at nothing, pushing out a bead of his cum.

“K-Ken~” he knew he shouldn’t have pushed it back in with a finger, knew that was irresponsible and greedy of him, but the action was done before he could really think it over, his lips smoothing over yours to sooth your cries.

“M’right here babygirl. Did so good for me, m’so proud of you.” He rolled to his side, letting you cling and tremble against him as you came back down to earth. He had no problem petting your sweat-slicked hair, shushing you with little kisses. “You’re okay, such a good girl.”

If it meant you’d come back to him. And he was certain after this, you’d be crawling at his feet.

He didn’t bother leaving you, you were clinging onto him too tightly. So instead he just scooped you up, brought you to the bathroom. He was so gentle when he placed you on the toilet, and even though you were fussing about going in front of him, he was adamant about it as he washed his face.

“I can’t pee in front of you, Ken!”

“I’m not even paying attention, you need to try, it’s good for you, so you don’t get any infections.”

“What do you mean, an infection?!” He chuckled, of course, you knew nothing about that.

Once he had you calm again, face and legs clean from a washcloth he helped you slip into one of his old sweaters and a pair of boxers. You were basically sleepwalking back to his bed, mumbling something incoherent as you cuddled into his pillow.

“The bed’s all yours…” He spoke with a smirk, pressing a little kiss to your temple as he pulled the covers up to your shoulders. You were out in seconds, and Draken took your precious little snores as his cue to get up and stretch a bit, check his phone and grab water for you in case you woke up with a hangover.

It was 4 am, but what made his brows raise was the number of messages in the group chat. He clicked on it, ready for a good laugh. But instead, his stomach dropped.

Takemichi: Draken! Why is my sister at your place?!

Mitsuya: No fucking way…

Baji: Draken, you dog. 🐶

Chifuyu: How do you know she’s there?

Takemichi: I have her location! I was supposed to pick her up at some party but it says she is at Drakens !!

Takemichi: Draken I’ll beat your ass–

Baji: I’ll do it for ya buddy. 💪🏼

Mitsuya: ur done for dude

Mikey: dirty dirty kenchin ///:

Chifuyu: 💀💀

Kazutora: man strikes again 🫣

Pa-Chin: literally a sister fucker dawg

Mitsuya: ur never seeing my sisters again 🫡

Takemichi: they’re not fucking! DRAKEN YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING HER–

He was never gonna hear the end of it.

Property of Kenslilove ™️ do not copy, repost or bring onto any other platform!!

Member of: @enchantedforest-network @ghostqueue

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