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tiannasfanfic · 9 months ago

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The One I Love

Tianyou Zhao x Reader (Fluff)

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Summary: When the Geomijul headquarters burns to the ground, the only life you've ever known is ash. Left with nothing to your name, you're given refuge at a bar called Survive and you find youself thinking back on how you met the man you love.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Notes: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns (if any). Tianyou Zhao x Geomijul!Reader. No physical description, race or cultural heritage mentioned for Reader.

CW: Mentions of canon violence and canon typical violence; non-graphic mentions of injuries; suggestive non-graphic mentions of sex.

Word Count: 6,676

The unthinkable had happened.

Ijincho’s Great Wall of Muscle was close to falling down all thanks to an unexpected invasion by the Omi Alliance.

There was a surge of infighting within the Seiryu Clan. Chairman Hoshino had done his best to quell it, but many of his men had defected to the Omi and left them severely weakened.

A coup had occurred within The Liumang, resulting in the leader, Tianyou Zhou, getting captured and tortured by his second in command, who had also defected to the Omi.

Geomijul’s headquarters had nearly burnt to the ground when the Omi stormed in, including the computer systems that made up their vast information network, which had severely crippled all three factions in the process.

Granted, it wasn’t the Omi who set the fires, but they may as well have. The leader of Geomijul, Seonhee, had her hand forced to protect their biggest secret. A secret so big that even you, an officer and trusted member of her inner circle, had not been aware of until the very end when you were briefed and ordered to help evacuate the nearby residents.

Being a part of the rear guard didn’t mean you were completely out of the action though. A handful of Omi officers had come around in an ambush from behind to stop the retreat. You and the others leading the evacuation were far from sitting ducks though. All of you had varying degrees of combat training, both with and without weapons.

While a few lives were lost in the fight, none of those were the civilians you’d been sent to protect. It was a small victory, at least, yet you couldn’t be happy about it. Not when the only life you ever knew was nothing but ash.

And that was how you found yourself sitting in a bar called Survive with a swollen jaw, a black eye, a sore body, no home, and no job.

You didn’t understand how it all came to this. None of it made any sense. How could you start out the day with a decent life and now end it with absolutely nothing? It was aggravating, to say the very least.

And the more you thought over your last conversation with Seonhee, the more aggravated you got.

“What do you mean my services are no longer required?” you’d asked in dismay. “Aren’t you going to rebuild?”

She had just returned from meeting with Geomijul’s new allies, with whom she had sent Joongi Han to help. Good people she could trust were now in short supply, so to send you away made little to no sense.

“That is the plan,” Seonhee replied. “But our information network is our top priority, not our other services. This is your best chance to get out. I know this was never the life you wanted.”

She had you there. The two of you were old childhood friends, having grown up and raised through the ranks of Geomijul together, so she was aware of your thoughts on the matter. Being an only child, you had inherited your position as the chief accountant for the Geomijul from your father, just as he had inherited it from your grandfather. Your family had a natural talent for numbers, and that paired with your formal training and modern technology, you were one of the best in Ijincho.

Well. Calling yourself an accountant was a bit of a stretch. While you were the first in your family to have any official certifications in that line of work, what you did was far less legitimate.

Your actual job was keeping all the financial records for the whole district. All the businesses, both real and front, reported their finances directly to you. You did regular audits, kept the accounting tidy, and manufactured fake books that would easily pass inspection by government officials.

Back in your father’s youth, Seonhee’s predecessor realized they could make extra money off your family’s expertise with numbers and expanded the Geomijul’s offerings of information to include financial advising. What that meant was, when the Seiryu Clan or the Liumang needed accounting assistance or comprehensive financial audits beyond what their own people could accomplish, they contracted you out for a hefty fee.

It was decent work, and you liked what you did, but you would’ve been much happier with a regular job at a legitimate accounting firm in the city. While the pay wouldn’t be as good, sometimes you wanted more simplicity and less paranoia. You always had to be on your guard, always looking over your shoulder for people lurking in the shadows. As one of the select few faces of the Geomijul that were known to the other two factions, just going about your daily life carried a large amount of risk.

To say it was exhausting was putting it mildly, but, at the same time, it was all you ever knew. You would have to start over, begin your life fresh. Outside of your certifications, you had nothing you could put down on a resume. You had no work history, no references, and no good explanation as to why you had neither. A background check would come up empty, your credit report too. The chances anyone would give you a chance were slim to none. A blank life history like that for someone your age usually screamed “I was a criminal” to prospective employers.

You relayed all this to Seonhee and begged her to reconsider, but she stood firm.

“We will provide you with as much as we can in that regard,” she replied, her tone indicating her mind was made up. “I know it isn’t much, but this is a chance hardly any of us get. Now you can lead a normal life, settle down with a good man. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

A bark of laughter left your throat at her words. You couldn’t stop it, nor did you try.

“A good man,” you repeated, shaking your head. “Like that will ever happen.”

Seonhee stepped forward and patted you on the shoulder reassuringly.

“You never know what the future may bring,” she said, smiling at you as if she knew something you didn’t.

You raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, but she offered no explanation. She simply gave your shoulder one last squeeze, then walked away.

At times, you couldn’t help but wonder if she knew.

You did have a good man, but settling down together and living a normal life would be impossible.

Presently, you were brought out of your thoughts by the bartender of Survive setting a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the bar in front of you.

“I’ve got herbs marinating that will ease your wounds,” he said. “It needs a bit more time to meld together, but this should help in the meantime. I sent Iroha out to pick up supplies for you. Once she’s back, we can get the extra room ready for you. It’s not as big as the one Kasuga and his friends share, but it should do until you get on your feet.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I really am sorry for all the trouble.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, waving off your thanks as he walked away. “Any friend of Kasuga’s is a friend of mine.”

Calling you Kasuga’s friend was a bit of a stretch. You’d only met the man twice, once after the attack on Geomijul and the second not even a half hour ago when you walked through the door to the bar. But he’d taken a liking to you, it seemed, and vouched for you when you asked if you could stay there as if you’d known each other for years.

You chuckled softly to yourself and shook your head. Kasuga was something else, that was for sure.

As he was leaving the bar to meet with Chairman Hoshino, he’d thanked you for all your help despite the fact you’d done little to aid him in his cause. In all reality, you were the one who should’ve been thanking him.

If it weren’t for Ichiban Kasuga, Tianyou Zhao, the love of your life, would be nothing but a corpse rotting in an unmarked grave right now.

But had no way of knowing this, of course. No one knew about the two of you. That’s just how it had to be for both your protection and Zhao’s.

It wouldn’t have looked good for the leader of the Liumang and a high-ranking officer of the Geomijul to be in a relationship together. The balance would appear skewed, as if your love would tip the scales in favor of one faction or the other. And none of the factions could risk you spilling the confidential information you’d learned over the years by working for all three.

It had been a huge gamble you both had taken by entering a secret relationship, but one you couldn’t say you ever regretted. Your time with Zhao had been the happiest of your life.

The whole thing started a little over three years ago when the Liumang had thieves within their ranks.

Normally, thievery was taken care of in-house, same as with the Geomijul, but these thieves were cleverer than most. Despite massive sums of money disappearing, sometimes even overnight, no one could find their trail. They had combed over the financial records repeatedly, interrogated anyone with access to these records, and always came up empty handed.

Finally, with no other options, a representative contacted Geomijul for help and you were contracted out for a modest fee.

The contract was initially for thirty days with the option to renew it in thirty-day blocks if finding them proved complicated even for you. Considering the magnitude of the theft, you felt thirty days was an overly optimistic timeframe. You were going to be combing over all the financial records for the Liumang from the last year, including all businesses operating within their area, as well as for the organization itself. This was going to take a long time and a lot of patience.

Anytime a contract took you into Liumang or Seiryu territory for more than a day’s work, they wanted you on site until the job was finished. It was too much of a risk having you come and go freely, but you didn’t mind. Both factions always treated you as a welcome guest, even if your freedom was a bit restricted during that time.

You were set up with a modest apartment in the district, all your daily living necessities provided at no cost to you. All you brought with you was a few changes of clothes and your regular toiletries. Your workspace was set up in an unused office on the ground floor of Qing Jin, the high-end restaurant that served as Liumang’s headquarters. They gave you a day to get unpacked and settled in, then after that, you went right to work.

Every morning, a guard escorted you from your apartment to the restaurant, then escorted you back that night when you were done for the day. You had a habit of losing track of time while working, so you always ended up falling into bed close to the wee hours of the morning. You didn’t mind though. The one day a week you had off was more than enough to catch up on sleep, send out your laundry and write up your progress report for the higher ups.

Unfortunately, your progress reports during the first few weeks didn’t have much to report. These thieves, whoever they were, were good. Outside of standard accounting errors where someone forgot to carry a number or subtracted an expense wrong, you didn’t find any major discrepancies.

No one bothered you while you were working, at least until you were going into your fourth week. It was at that point, someone decided to check in on you. But you were so focused on your work that you didn’t hear anyone enter the office, nor did you hear your name being called. You didn’t become aware that you weren’t alone anymore until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

It scared the hell out of you.

You jumped so hard you nearly turned over your chair, a loud shriek leaving your mouth that also startled the man in question. The man jumped back from your chair, startled himself by your scream. You stared at each other for a few seconds before you both started laughing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said through his laughter and held up his hands.

“It’s alright,” you said, pressing one palm to your chest and taking a deep breath to calm yourself. “It happens. I get a little too focused on what I’m doing sometimes.”

“That ain’t a bad thing,” the man said, a good-natured grin coming to his face as he looked at you over his glasses. “You’re a hard worker, that’s a rare thing to find sometimes.”

While you’d never spoken to this man before, you had noticed he was there at the restaurant nearly every day. It was hard not to; his leather jacket and relaxed way of dressing made him stick out like a sore thumb among the flashy suits all the other men wore.

At that point, you’d never met the leader of the Liumang before and, thus, had no idea who it was you were talking to. You just assumed he worked at the restaurant.

“Speaking of hard work, have you taken any breaks?’ he asked. “Have you eaten today?”

You blinked a few times, the question catching you off guard.

“Yeah, this morning,” you replied. “I had a sandwich before I came in.”

The man looked at his watch and tutted at you.

“You got here almost nine hours ago,” he said. “You seriously haven’t had anything since then?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s fine though, I’ll eat after I’m done for the night. That’s what I normally do.”

The man tutted at you again, shook his head in disapproval and left the room without another word.

That was strange, you thought to yourself.

No one had ever bothered to check in on you before. You didn’t think more of it though, just shrugged and got back to work.

Sometime later, the man came back, knocking loudly on the doorframe this time to announce his presence.

“Who’s hungry?” he stated.

Looking up from your work, you blinked a few times in surprise.

“Huh?” you said.

“Dinner’s ready,” he replied. “Time to eat.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary,” you said, then gestured to all the paperwork on the desk. “I haven’t had any luck finding what I’m looking for, and I don’t want to make your boss think I’m slacking off.”

The man blinked at you a few times, then a grin spread across his face.

“Actually, it was the boss who sent me down here,” he stated. “He noticed how hard you’ve been working and wanted me to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

Your mouth dropped open a little and you gawped at the man.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yup,” he said, nodding. “After all, it’s much easier to think when you have a full stomach.”

He took a few steps into the room and then bowed grandly, gesturing out the door with one arm.

“Now, come have dinner with me,” he said. “Bosses orders.”

You couldn’t argue that, so you left the desk to follow the man.

The restaurant was closed for a deep cleaning thar day, so there weren’t any customers or even many employees about. He led you up the stairs to the second floor, where you found yourself at a table loaded down with food.

“Once I got in the kitchen, I realized I didn’t know what you like, so I made a little bit of everything,” he stated as he pulled a chair out for you and gestured for you to sit.

You stared at him in shock for a moment before taking the offered seat. He pushed your chair back up to the table as you sat.

“Are you the chef here?” you asked.

“Something like that,” he said, walking around the table to take a seat across from you. “Now dig in, I can hear your stomach complaining from here.”

It was true. As soon as all the delicious smells hit your nose, you realized exactly how hungry you were.

Most evenings after that, you had dinner with him. It wasn’t always at the same time, but it always happened the same way. He’d come to ask if you’d eaten, you’d say no and then, next thing you knew, you were sitting at a table filled with enough to feed an army even though it was just the two of you.

The conversation was light the first few times you ate together, mainly basic topics like food and what you both liked to do outside of work. That’s how you found out cooking was a hobby of his rather than his job, but something he really enjoyed doing. Much like you with accounting, being a chef was something he would’ve loved to do had he not been in the Liumang.

After your contract was renewed for another thirty days, the two of you began opening to each other about more personal topics. As it turned out, you both had remarkably similar childhoods. Both of you were born into your factions and were expected to follow in your respective father’s footsteps. While he never told you exactly what his father did, and you never asked, it sounded as if he was higher up just as yours had been. It was clear that you’d both had big shoes to fill and, being the dutiful children you were, were still doing your best to live up to those lofty expectations.

While he didn’t outright say it, his tone and body language while talking about it gave away the same discontent with things that you felt. Life was good, yes. Neither of you could complain, nor did you have any right to, but you both knew there was more to life than what the factions provided.

In those weeks, you found yourselves growing closer with each conversation. He was easy to talk to, easy to open yourself up to. You felt a deep connection with him, a kinship you’d never felt with anyone outside of Seonhee, but in a way that was more than just friendship. Anytime you were with him, you felt a spark inside that had the potential to grow into an inferno should you both allow it.

It was a shame, really, since you knew nothing could come of it.

Halfway into your second month with the Liumang, you finally made a breakthrough in tracking down the theft. You began to pick up on their trail. It wasn’t much at first, just a small pattern in the numbers that was so subtle you almost didn’t notice it. But once you did, you began to get an idea of how they got away with it for so long without being noticed and how far back it went.

Rather than making your job easier, finding the evidence made it even more complicated. The Liumang had to pull more financial records for you dating back to the last three years and you had to go back over some of the records you had already done to re-examine the accounting errors you’d found. A lot of them ended up tying it in with the theft, but without knowing the pattern, they had looked kosher your first time over them.

These thieves were good. Some of the best you’d seen, in fact, if not the best. Whoever this mastermind was, they were just as good at numbers as you were.

Your contract was extended again by another thirty days as you became absorbed in your work. With your workload increased, you found yourself staying even later than before, sometimes working through the night, and only getting a short nap on the small couch there in the office. The fancy dinners came to a stop for a while, but your new friend always made sure you took a break to eat. Even on the days you didn’t see him, someone always brought up a takeout container of food for you to graze on while you worked.

But pushing yourself like that had a major drawback. I quickly wore you out. Soon you were exhausted, not only physically but mentally as well. You weren’t taking days off anymore and it was catching up to you. This job was far more in-depth and rigorous than anything you’d encountered.

The boss eventually noticed that your work had slowed, but rather than crack the whip like you would have expected, the opposite happened.

One night when your friend grabbed you for dinner, rather than the normal selection of water and tea to drink, there was a bottle of wine at the table.

At first you protested, insisting you couldn’t drink since you had more work to do, but he waved them off.

“One drink with dinner won’t kill ya,” he stated as he filled up a glass and set it in front of you. “You’re way too stressed out; you need to unwind and relax. Boss’s orders.”

As much as he used the boss as an excuse to get you to do things you normally wouldn’t do while on a job, you had to wonder if they really were orders from his boss, but you gave in since you weren’t in any position to question it.

As the two of you ate and the conversation flowed, one glass turned into two. The conversation turned flirty and two turned into three. With that second refill, he took the seat next to you rather than returning to his own. And then, the next thing you knew, you were sitting in his lap sharing a slow, deep kiss.

There was no denying the spark anymore, and it was clear he felt it too. While there was lust in the way his lips moved against yours, there was no sense of urgency, no rush to do anything more. He was taking his time just as you were, holding you close but loose enough you could easily pull away if you wanted.

You weren’t sure how long you were like that before his lips parted from yours. At first, you felt some disappointment, but that didn’t last for more than a second before he shifted downwards towards your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as you let your head fall back a little, giving him better access.

“You know what?” he muttered against your skin, waiting for you to hum in acknowledgement before continuing. “You should take the rest of the night off.”

His words made your heartbeat faster, but you couldn’t help a small chuckle.

“Now that I’m pretty sure the boss would frown on,” you said, softly tracing the tips of your fingers over the back of his neck.

“Trust me, he really won’t give two shits about that,” he muttered quickly, then nipped at your collarbone. “Let me take care of you tonight, baby. Please.”

It was tempting, so very tempting. He was making you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever.

Before you could answer though, a thought occurred to you. It is something you always meant to ask him, but it always slipped your mind when you were together. Now seemed as good of a time as any since you were seriously considering taking him back to your room.

“You know what?” you said, then waited for him to hum in acknowledgment before continuing. “You’ve never told me your name.”

His lips were beginning to trail down to your chest when he suddenly froze at your words, then slowly pulled back to look at you. For the first time since you met him, he looked nervous.

“I’ll tell you my name,” he said, swallowing heavily. “But promise you won’t freak out?”

You tilted your head at him curiously.

“Why would your name freak me out?” you asked, then smiled as your voice took on a teasing tone. “Are you a famous celebrity living in hiding?”

Rather than get a laugh like you expected, he looked away from you. He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed as if thinking hard.

It was only then that you finally realized he had been hiding something from you.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said finally then sighed. “All right. My name is- “

Before he could finish his sentence, from downstairs you heard the front door of the restaurant burst open and several pairs of feet urgently running towards the stairs.

“Boss!” a loud voice called. “Boss, where are you?”

Quite suddenly, you found yourself deposited back in your seat as your friend jumped to his feet. He grabbed his glasses off the table then and quickly moved around the table to his original chair across from you.

“Act natural,” he said quietly, putting his glasses back on.

His entire demeanor changed at that moment. Gone was the relaxed pose and easy-going attitude you were accustomed to seeing, replaced by an authoritative energy and piercing gaze.

By the time four gruff looking men made it up the stairs, you both had gotten yourselves back to the appearance of having dinner together.

The men looked around frantically, saw you two at the table and hurried over.

“Boss,” the man in the lead said and you recognized it as the one who called out from downstairs. “We’ve got trouble over on Ijin Street. It’s those shit sucking bikers again.”

“Little fuckers don’t know when to give up, do they?” he replied, shaking his head. “Get Mabuchi down there, he’ll take care of it.”

“That’s just it boss, they’ve got him and some of his boys cornered.”

You took a bite of your food and kept your face neutral as you watched your friend jump out of his chair so fast it nearly tipped over. His demeanor changed again, his calm facade slipping into one of anger.

“Then why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?” he snarled, quickly jumping to his feet, and grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “Round up as many of the guys as you can. This shit’s gonna end tonight!”

Now that they had their orders, the men scrambled back downstairs to carry them out. Your friend started to follow, putting on his jacket as he went, but stopped just before he left the room, and turned back towards you.

“I meant what I said before,” he stated, his voice still authoritative but softer now as he addressed you. “Take the rest of the night off. You deserve it.”

Speechless, you simply nodded. Then flashed you a grin and a wink and followed his men.

Even if he hadn’t given you the go ahead to take the night off, there wouldn’t have been any way for you to focus after that. Realizing you had fallen for none other than the leader of the Yokohama Liumang, Tianyou Zhou himself, had shocked you to your core.

Presently, a commotion in Survive startled you out of your thoughts and you looked over towards the door. Iroha had returned from her shopping trip. You watched as the bartender went over to help her lug a new sleeping mat upstairs. That meant your room would be ready soon and you would be able to get cleaned up, changed, and finally get some rest. Just that alone thought made you aware of just how exhausted you were. It had been a very long night, and you couldn’t wait to fall into bed. Honestly, if given enough time alone, you could’ve easily fallen asleep right there at the bar. To keep that from happening though, you returned to your thoughts and remembered the remainder of your time spent with the Liumang.

You didn’t see Zhao again until your job was done. After the night you learned of his real identity, it only took two more weeks for you to figure out who was responsible for the theft. There were six men total that were behind it all and they were quickly taken care of. With that done, all you had left was to complete a final audit and make sure the books could pass a government inspection, which only took a couple of days.

While you were waiting for the car that was coming to take you home, Zhao came downstairs and dismissed the guard who had been waiting with you.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said. “I have one last thing to discuss with them before they’re off.”

He waited until it was just the two of you before speaking again.

And this time when he spoke, it was as the man you shared dinner with all those times, not the leader of the Liumang.

“I’m sorry about lying to you,” he said, then chuckled nervously. “But when I figured out you didn’t know who I was, I thought not knowing might make it easier for you to relax.”

You waved off his apology with a smile.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You were right, I would have had my guard up the whole time.”

He nodded, chuckled, then started rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would it be okay with you if I asked for your phone number?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Is that even allowed?” you said. “I mean, we’re technically not even on the same side here.”

“What people don’t know won’t kill ‘em,” he said, then winked at you with a grin. “Or us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back at him and slipped him one of your fake business cards with your very real personal cell number written on the back.

Since you had to keep the whole thing a secret, it was like a long-distance relationship in the sense that most of it occurred through text messages and late-night phone calls. Occasionally, Zhao was able to slip away from his bodyguards to sneak off to your apartment, but those times were very few and far between. It was extremely dangerous for him to enter Geomijul territory, yet he always managed to slip in and out without being noticed. He never could stay the night though, just a few hours at most. You’d fall asleep in his arms, then wake up alone the next morning. While it made you sad, you wouldn’t have traded those few hours with him for anything.

Another commotion in the bar roused you from your thoughts again, this time from Adachi and Nanba enthusiastically greeting someone. You assumed it was Kasuga returning from his meeting and turned to greet the man as well. Instead, you saw it was Joongi Han who had arrived.

Sliding carefully off the barstool, you got to your feet to greet your old friend, but you froze in place as you watched another man limp into the bar behind him.

It was Zhao. And your heart broke at the sight of him.

The Liumang traitors had put him through hell, the results of the beating they had given were obvious. He moved slowly, a slight wince on his swollen lips as he walked, one arm hugged tight across his abdomen in an indication of broken ribs. His face was battered and bruised, scabs and dried blood caking areas of his skin.

It was obvious he was in a lot of pain, but little showed on his face. The man was an expert on hiding how he truly felt unless you knew how to read him.

Your first instinct was to rush over to him, to take him in your arms and comfort him, to take care of him in his time of need. It took everything you had, a willpower you didn’t even know you possessed, but you managed to stay rooted in place.

Zhao nodded a greeting to the others, then his gaze quickly swept the room, as if searching for something. When his eyes landed on you, they widened in shock, his expression looking as taken back as you felt. You hadn’t looked in a mirror yet, but you assumed you probably looked about as bad as you felt.

The reservations you had about rushing over to him he clearly didn’t share. He strode right over to you as quickly as his injuries would allow and, in full view of everyone, pulled you into a tight hug. It made you both gasp in pain, but you didn’t care about the pain. All you cared about was the man holding you in his arms.

“Should we be doing this here?” you muttered against his jacket, holding it tightly in your fists as if afraid he’d disappear.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said, then pulled back slightly to look at you. “I’ve stepped down from the Liumang. Seonhee oversees both factions now.”

That surprised you and your mouth dropped open.

“Seonhee?” you repeated, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

It took a moment, but things finally started clicking in your head.

“Then that means…we’re both civilians now?”

Zhao smiled a little and brought one hand up to caress your uninjured cheek.

“Yeah, we are,” he said softly. “We don’t have to hide anymore, baby.”

The effect of his words was immediate. Suddenly the mask you always wore around others was gone and the walls you’d built around yourself to protect yourself from outsiders came crashing down.

You couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, tears of happiness and relief streaming down your face. The force of the kiss made you both wince, but he only pulled you closer, returning it with just as much passion.

You were so engrossed in one another that neither of you heard Han grumble to Namba about how he now owed Seonhee a thousand yen thanks to you two.

It wasn’t long before Kasuga returned from his meeting. By the time he’d filled you all in on what happened, your room had long since been ready, so you and Zhao retired upstairs for the night. While there wasn’t much room, the space was only a little bigger than your average walk-in closet, it was more than enough for the two of you.

Between the broken ribs and the lingering effects of a dislocated shoulder, getting his jacket and shirt off was slow going, but you managed. After filling a small basin with warm water from the sink in the other room, you helped clean him up. Once the dried blood and dirt was washed away, you applied the herbal poultice the bartender made to his wounds and bruises, then wrapped them in bandages.

While you insisted that he rest, Zhao insisted it was his turn now, wanting to take care of you as you did him. You changed the water in the basin since you could move around a little easier than he could, but once that was done, he took over as caregiver. He helped you undress and gently cleaned your wounds, softly kissing your neck and shoulders as he went, and dressed your injuries just as you did for him.

By the time he finished, your body felt electrified, and you couldn’t help but find his lips with yours. The kiss was softer than the one you shared downstairs, soft enough it didn’t hurt. He was more than eager to return your affection, his hands trailing gently along your body, caressing all the places you loved to be touched.

Considering the state you were both in, physical activity should have been the last thing on your mind. But at that moment, the need for physical touch and comfort overrode all common sense and logic. Soon you were under him on the bed. He held most of his weight off you with his good arm, your bodies close but not crushed together. His thrusts were slow to keep from hurting either of you, even slower than the times he’d teased you and taken his time with you. But, despite that, neither of you were able to last long. The fact it had been weeks since you’d last seen each other combined with the fear you’d lost one another to build a foundation for quick, earth-shattering orgasms. Afterwards, you passed out in each other’s arms, exhausted and hurting like hell, but happy.

When the next morning came, you were lulled up from sleep by a severe pounding in your head. You made the mistake of cracking your eyes open and then immediately shut them again with a groan. The tiny window in the room had no curtain, allowing bright sunlight to beam directly into your eyes. The sharp pain it sent into your brain caused your eyes and nose to water. It took a little while but eventually the pain began to recede back down to a throb. As it did, you became more aware of your body, and you wished you were still asleep.

You felt like total, absolute garbage.

From the top of your head to bottom of your feet, every single part of your body hurt horribly.

But then you became aware of a different sensation, one that was a contrast to all the pain. It was soft, a very gentle stroking feeling on your upper arm that was soothing.

You risked cracking your eyes open again. While it still hurt, you were prepared for the light this time, so it wasn’t quite as bad. Carefully, you tilted your head up and found yourself looking at Zhao’s smiling face. You were still laying in his arms, your head against his chest.

“Morning baby,” he said softly.

“Morning,” you whispered, then you smiled. “You’ve never stayed the night before.”

“First time for everything,” he replied with a chuckle, then he softly kissed you on the forehead. “Now I can always be by your side.”

While your heart swelled at his words, a thought occurred to you that made your smile falter and you looked away from him.

Now that you were both normal, everyday civilians, your lives were about the drastically change. Things were about to become much, much harder for the both of you. While The Geomijul had never been the wealthiest of factions, The Liumang, however, were a different story. They easily rivaled The Seiryu Clan in terms of finances, even if it didn’t appear that way on the surface. From birth until now, anything Zhao desired could be his. From the everyday necessities of life to fancy cars, dinners, and women, all he had to do was snap his fingers and it would be his.

Sensing your sudden turn of mood, Zhao lifted his free hand to gently take ahold of your chin and tilt your head up, so you were meeting his gaze once again.

“Hey now,” he said softly. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You started to nervously chew on your bottom lip but stopped when you accidentally bit down on the scab that was running right down the middle. It made you wince, and Zhao tutted at you with a chuckle.

“It’s just…won’t you get bored?” you finally asked. “We’re not going to have much of anything. My whole life burnt to the ground, everything I own is now in this room.”

He shook his head.

“I’ve never cared about any of that,” he said, stroking your arm again, but this time in a gesture of comfort. “But getting to wake up with you in my arms…now that’s something grand. I want to be here with you. I want to be by your side, now and forever. You’re the one that I love, and now I have the chance to love you the way I want to. The way you deserve.”

There were no more words needed at that point, neither from him nor from you.

The kiss that followed said anything that remained unsaid.

#tianyou zhao x reader #tianyou zhao #zhao tianyou #yakuza imagines #yakuza fanfiction #yakuza headcanons #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza #yakuza like a dragon

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maroji-draws · 2 months ago

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Yakuza doodle dump:))

Zhao reading reviews on his restaurant blog

Hide is a masochist 💀

How i imagine he looks when Masato says no

Masks banging???

ICHI BUNS

doodles:)

Ryo and goro ❤

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partylikemajima · 8 months ago

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ITS DONE. I finally wrote my Zhao/Reader fic and posted all 12 chapters at once lol I'm too impatient to release them slowly. I love binge reading too sometimes so why not. Do you like friends to lovers with trauma in between and a happy ending? 👀 Do you love Zhao? Well have I got the fic for you 😂🙉 Thank you so much to @kulemii and @trixibebe for the amazing moral support they gave me while I was stressing writing this!! Go read their fics they're amazing writers!! 🥺💖 also @kulemii did such a sweet edit for a scene in my fic (takes place when the reader and Zhao are 18/19, I'm kicking my feet screaming AHHHHHHH 🙈):

#zhao x reader #zhao tianyou #yakuza #rgg #idk what to tag this as do i tag it as the other games idek #tianyou zhao #Aahhaaaaaaaa ITS DONEEEEE #god that was stressful but fun at the same time DAMN #if theres errors in the fic pretend you didnt see

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queenlegacyproductions · 1 year ago

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18+ Yakuza/Judgement drabble or something

It was dark in the room. Despite the blindfold, she could still tell the room was dimly lit. It was also sweltering. Sweat seemed to pour profusely from every part of her body which was handcuffed to the bed; hands above her head, legs to a spreader bar. She could squirm all she wanted to but the bar just spread her legs wider, showcasing the vibe that was totally drenched inside her gusting wet pussy, her whimpers and moans echoing across the room.

“Look at you…such a mess already.” She heard a voice tease in the distance before she felt the vibe be turned up once again, making her cry out and arch her back. “Oh, my sweet, you look so pretty…”

“Pretty pathetic, actually…” Another said from the other side of the room. “Look at the little whore, squirming for more as if we haven’t been spoiling her for the past few minutes.” She whimpered as she tried to hide her face. It wasn’t her fault that they kept toying until she was on the verge of breaking before holding her hostage at the brink then letting her fall into the pit of pleasure.

“Now, now, let’s be nice…” A third made himself known. He sounded closer to the bed than the other two. She could hear footsteps draw closer to where she laid before she felt a dip in the bed. “After all, darlin’ being so nice enough to give us a show. You can at least be grateful.” She then feels the vibe to move from inside her to her clit, making her scream louder and her legs shake. “Ain’t that right, my dear?” The pleasure was too much for her to handle, feeling her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her toes curled and her hands were balled up into fist, pulling hard at the cuffs. This didn’t fly with the others in the room as she heard another set of footsteps before she felt a hand wrap around her throat.

“I believe he asked you a question, toots.” A fourth finally spoke after all this time.”You gonna be a good girl and answer? I know your voice isn’t giving out because you can still scream so beautifully so…answer him.” He squeezed a bit tighter. She whimpers at the pressure.

“Y-yes..” She keens as she feels the vibe move faster up and down her clit. “Fuck..ohm’god, plea..se…”

“Please what, baby? Tell us what you want., sweet girl.” The first voice asked so sweetly, the praise making her whine.

“Fu..ck m-mee…please…” She whined as she finally came for the umpteenth time in what felt like hours on end. “Fuck me, ruin me…I wanna-.”

“Lose your mind in pleasure? Be fucked until your brain feels like mush and the only thing you can think about is taking load after load of cum into every last one of your pretty little fuckholes, huh?” The second voice taunted her again. He chuckles as he hears her moan as his words. “Is that what you want, my little whore?” She nods her head.

“Words, my dear or else we leave you lying in your own juices, unsatisfied.” The fourth demanded. She nodded her head rapidly.

“Yes! Yes! I wanna be your little cumdump, please! I want all of it!” She pleaded, desperation coating her words. A moment of silence goes by before she feels movement on the bed and the handcuffs loosen around her hands and ankles, freeing her. As she rubs her wrists, she feels the blindfold being removed from her eyes. Her eyes take a few seconds to focus before she can make out the four faces that surround her.

“Would you look at that? Her body may be trying to give up but the fire in those eyes…” The second voice who she can now see was the leader of the Yokohama Liumang, Zhao Tianyou as he toyed with the remote to the vibe. “Something tells me that there’s still some defiance in this one.”

“Are you surprised? This is the same woman who put some of Japan’s most dangerous yakuza on their ass.” The fourth voice whom she could now pinpoint it to Kaito Masaharu, detective at Yagami Detective Agency as he sits her up with a bottle of water for her to drink.

“Don’t forget, Kaito-san; She’s also the leader of Armageddon, the most infamous gang in America.” The third was Kaito’s friend and partner, Yagami Takayuki. “Given their reputation, you don’t become leader by being a pushover.” He pushed some of her hair out of her face, examining her face for problems.

“And yet, despite her reputation, she still let us have our way with her. So it’s clear that she trusts us a lot in order to go through with this.” The first voice was revealed to be the second in command of the Geomijul, Joon-gi Han as he cleared the bed of toys and restraints to be cleaned later.

“Indeed. So, Tabo, how is she?” Kaito asked him.

“I think we should ask her.” Yagami said after he was done checking her over. “So what do you think? Think you can go a few rounds with us…Mor-chan?”

Morrigan raised her eyebrow at Yagami as she finished her bottle of water. “The real question is can you?” She then uses a little bit of her limited energy to crush the bottle. “Because the Morrigan Metro’s in the station. All aboard!”

I think I'm do more of the short form content as opposed to the occasional long story every blue moon. Let me know what you guys think. 😁

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hauseofhauhaudidyougethere · 9 months ago

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Of Us in the Mirror (Zhao x Reader x Joongi Han)

CW: Discussion of alcoholism, probing into Yeonsu Kim gradually recovering from rigidity around his frankly unhealthy exercise and diet + childhood. Hyphenated JGH help differ from current JG applies. The second JGH was a double barrel, the third JGH is a true single barrel - our JGH. Apologies.

Yeonsu’s room within Geomijul was among the most spacious ones. Seonhee had a master suite as her ranking denoted but being her right hand and trusted bodyguard meant that his own personal quarters could include his own bathroom and the bedroom was large enough to include his own training area. Her second-in-command living in what were essentially barracks with regular rank and file members would not do at all. If he were younger, maybe the dumbbells tucked neatly stacked into the places they were meant to be would be named as one would do for stuffed animals. What a foolish boy that was. A growing boy, no friends, no family beyond a poor excuse of a father. He was a father in the biological sense but beyond that - the second Joon-gi Han even as an idolized form did more for him in terms of support than his biological one ever did. He did hold some gratitude for the fact that such a father unintentionally gave him the best shot at life he could have ever provided on his own. His early childhood since his mother either died due to illness or fled without her son - in what he quietly wished to believe was either one of her deeply regretted mistakes or an accident in becoming involved with someone who turned into a monster - unrecognizable. Any unnecessary items and memorabilia were discarded or pawned away for money that fueled the man’s quest to fill a gaping void with hard liquor. A monster would have done this to his son out of pure malice. A misguided man would have had good intentions from the beginning and if anything at the very least seem to show signs of an internal struggle between needing to decide who gets their needs to come first. Yeonsu's thoughts about the man changed as the moon's pull changed the tides. What separated Yeonsu from being as monstrous was that while he was no longer the boy he once was, at least his new face had a respected legacy. His post-pubescent face once deemed most likely solidified; saved for the curse of likely continual acne bringing scarring risk - unbeknownst to him at that time would be operated on and completely reconfigured the next time he woke up. That worthless and scrawny boy became the spitting image of Joon-gi Han by face alone overnight. His body needed some work due to years of malnutrition as no muscle can form when the essential organs can barely draw enough energy to keep the person they belong to alive. It wasn’t like father, dearest ever kept the fridge stocked when there was electricity in the house. The pantry remained similarly barren. Being evicted from a textbook example of a slump lord’s apartment unit was what led the pair into group living with other disgraced Jingweon mafia members and their families: there was food to ration out then. Of course, not that the other children liked him and their mothers only seen him as an extra mouth to feed. However, if he could keep his plate or bowl safe from the other kids then there would be at least two meals of questionable adequacy a day. Bigger and stronger kids took to harassing the other ones for larger portions if favoritism alone wasn’t adequate. Lucky ones could get free food from kindly old ladies or scavenge trash for bentos that were in most cases “fine” to eat even if said bento was already half-consumed and beyond safe food handling recommendations. Young Yeonsu was rarely lucky and he was by no means bigger or stronger. Pushing himself to guard what he would be given and search for scraps when forced outside for the day regardless of how fruitless the endeavor would be in both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word. His “training” to grow big and strong like the man he idolized was an unnecessary expenditure of energy.

As fate would have it, his height did not seem to have suffered. Another miracle in the sense that Joon-gi Han also happened to be around about the same height. A perfect candidate to be a stunt double if the prideful man were to ever make a biopic ; of course, Yeonsu Kim was instead given a larger role in the continual play of life. All that suffering would turn on a dime the year he became 20 and was taken under his wing and tutelage. Having idolized him his whole childhood and striving to be like him in his own ways just made him an even more perfect candidate. A more self-absorbed and defined individual would not be likely to engage in complex ego death by their own will. Ironically, someone of the same arrogance and cockiness of the second Joon-gi Han wouldn’t last a minute in his presence regardless of it they happened to have his face or not. Reflecting the worser parts of oneself back at them is a quick way to volunteering as a punching bag or worse in this life as it stood. There was never a lucky one whose gumption was given a pass, either they would bend over backwards when required to show obedience and loyalty or they would be left wishing they tried harder the first time.

Waking up to the frigid air and the near overwhelming smell of bleach the morning his face became no longer his own, Yeonsu couldn’t even find the reason to cry or the energy to do so. The drugs that remained in his system were still sedating him making it difficult to do much but stare at the ceiling and gradually turn his head to take in one side of the dingy room he was left in. It seemed like an abandoned massage parlor, probably raided and taken out of business long ago. Turning too much in the other direction only had him staring face to face with the cool blue-green assortment of stoney tiles that lined the wall. If he could have lifted his arms up he probably would have tried to rub his hand against the wall just to see if it felt as smooth as it looked. He was alone and he wasn’t sure why he was in this room. Heaven surely would be cleaner or so he thought. Maybe his mother just couldn’t come and greet him just yet. Did she have to pay for the cracking red leather circle stools that lined the other abandoned massage tables as they were? Someone like him didn’t have the right to complain about Heaven. It would be whatever God decided was enough for him and he would just have to accept it. Hell wasn’t meant to be filled with aquarium blues and greens. The walls weren’t completely barren. Peeling posters with characters still visible seemed to be fighting to survive the test of time. The posters with Japanese and Korean characters were too faded and his eyes couldn’t focus enough without him being able to sit-up to even attempt to theorize what they actually said. Maybe advertising trips or beauty treatments? He figured whatever posters he had no chance of understanding were in Vietnamese, probably. It wasn’t too unusual for there to be a couple of speakers to come and go among the others in the shared living space. Picking up a few words of Chinese early on without stricter formal schooling was thanks to that set-up. There was a mother with kind eyes and a soft face who must’ve just given birth to a newborn infant not very long ago who sung nursery rhymes and pointed out whatever she could see to the baby repeating the words she uttered multiple times like it was a game of “I, Spy”. He had never seen her before; her paleness made him wonder if she was a ghost or a goddess that came to visit. No man ever looked in her direction or spoke to her.

He was still a younger child back when that happened, the older women whose children were already grown enough to run around and wreak havoc on their own two feet did not force him to go outside for some reason. He could lay on the dusty living room floor and flip through the free magazines and newspapers that were probably taken off other people’s porches or their mailboxes. She remained on that couch for three days only holding the baby who would occasionally make a faint enough noise that resembled a cry only for it to end just as soon as it started. Her voice was melodic and nothing at all what like he was exposed to all of the other times. Yeonsu’s mother only existed faintly in his memories, there was a woman who pet his head and pulled up the covers to his neck surely? He was no older than 5 or so as the memory threatened to vanish entirely if he wasn’t committed to recollecting that such a thing happened before and not just fairy-tale. If someone liked that mother cared so deeply for their baby, he couldn’t imagine crying. The mother disappeared without a trace after the third day. No one mentioned such a thing ever happened, no whispers of a new baby, no mutterings of another couple of mouths to feed. The woman must have found a better place to stay. Innocent Yeonsu didn’t comprehend that the mother was sick and wasn’t eating as her baby refused to nurse. He was allowed to lay in the living room and entertain himself flipping through all those newspapers and magazines because at least if the woman died while the sun was up, she wouldn’t have been alone. Placing a child on death-watch without even explaining the concept or even the idea to run and get help for once went against the point of the duty but it was just an excuse to say enough was done for her. He knew the language when he heard it, every so often one of the few of the grandmothers that lived in the home would be called to answer the front door. She would always speak in a hushed voice to an angry sounding man but nothing bad ever seemed to come of it. The man wasn’t always the same but the tones were. No nosy child could ever figure out what it was about. None of them ever knew that if things went badly enough the consequences would likely have spelled disaster as the grown men or “grown” enough late teens were always out of the house once the sun rose. His father wasn’t an exception surprisingly but he just had the courtesy of sun-baking in his drunken sleep elsewhere. If there was an intruder or anything to that effect it was the women and the children for themselves.

How many unrecognized miracles kept Yeonsu Kim alive up to this point? The surgeries he underwent were against all conventional standards of care and an unluckier patient would have died of infection turned into sepsis or from the heavy sedatives alone. Plastic surgery carried the extra risk of deforming or completely damaging nerves and robbing the senses as well. Being forced into a deep slumber never to awake – it wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened. Deaths were always very hush-hush but if something particularly terrible happened it wouldn’t require a lot of detective work, someone would be caught whispering to another in hushed voices louder than usual The whispers were usually the loudest if it was someone well-liked though, that much is to be expected when you’re forced to rely on other people to survive but to that point, if Yeonsu were to have died – how many people would whisper about his death or mourn it? Maybe one or two were doing so right now if he were lucky, even a milquetoast prayer for him would do.

*rattle rattle* The white wooden door with cracked paint and an opaque textured glass pane opened up. Two intimidating burly men in black shirts and black cargo pants came into the room and stood on the left and right of the door. Yeonsu surely must’ve died to be in the same room as Joon-Gi Han. He can’t even get the energy to pull himself off the massage table into a heavy bow, how pitiful. Han’s flashy suit and imported blue leather shoes set him apart from his underlings. Yeonsu Kim must’ve died again for Han to have walked up to the very table he couldn’t pull himself off from. Han even smiled looking down upon him. Heaven was a favorable place for him, indeed. His consciousness was starting to go again but he thought he heard his father’s voice approaching from the hallway and getting closer to the parlor room and a few unrecognizable ones. That was the last time he ever heard his father’s voice.

He wasn’t quite in real Heaven but being under Joon-gi Han’s wing and having the utmost privilege and duty to uphold his name and honor was about as close as he could have gotten to Heaven on Earth. Becoming Joongi Han was all he wanted to study. Yeonsu Kim was nothing, Han was everything. Being a quick study and his obedience earned him a lot of affection from the older Han. The older Han didn’t care for the boy in the way Seonhee did so unspoken when she swooped in to collect the pieces the older Han’s death left behind but the older Han still started him on the path of becoming someone who was strong. Taking his place on shifts at Stardust in Kamurocho and attending fancy dinner meetings had him engaging in many fake social conversations that were all people pursuing something shallow or of their own self-interest and more. He couldn’t let these interactions go to his head, lest he ruin the older Han’s honor and dignity but he did have to learn how to handle himself at fancy dinner meetings which required practice. Going from hardly having enough to eat and handling one’s self well at fancy dinner parties were not conducive to one another. No one would take your plate away unless you signaled you were done eating but you also weren’t expected to eat more than what was deemed socially acceptable and you weren’t expected to overindulge in champagne. Real quality “hosts” pretended to drink expensive alcohol on the customer’s dime. The bartenders had a short-list of non-alcoholic beverages that looked like the true alcoholic beverage a customer ordered. Water and sugar-free drinks were a favorite but using sparkling ciders still wasn’t as much a wash or as ��diet” damaging as real alcohol was.

Splashing water on his face, Yeonsu, no Joongi wondered if the face of Yeonsu would have still made for a popular host back when he did work at Stardust. He didn’t miss it at all and he doubted he would ever find himself working at another one unless it was explicitly required for a mission. The old Stardust owner had took back over leadership the last he heard, not that he kept tabs on the place but he did have a conscience that got the better of him one sleepless night and he went into research mode. Taking advantage of lonely customers’ wallets didn’t set right with him even if the nature of his job wasn’t enjoyable to him in truth. He was just happy to play his part well and be praised by the older Han from time to time. Gifts from the customer would sometimes be given to him or pawned off with some portion of the money being given to him in a bokjumeoni or lucky pouch. Higher dollar values were often denoted by how intricate the patterns outside the pouch were. Someone clearly put their heart into the construction of every one he ever got. This usually occurred once a month but a fancy pouch would be a guaranteed if he went two or three months without. It wasn’t like he knew what to do with the money or had much to spend it on but he did eventually use it to buy old used video game consoles under the watchful eye of the older Han on an excursion out on the town. The older Han would take him for gelato sometimes. Eating sweets wasn’t explicitly discouraged nor was it like the real Han didn’t eat them when the occasion called for it. Stardust served chocolate dipped fruits and sundaes for hosts and patrons alike among other comfort foods like French fries and spaghetti bolognese of all things alongside fancy steak and sushi plates. Finger foods were usually preferred but hosts could still feed patrons if the patron had enough money to burn or came by often enough that was just part of job progression. The older Han always let him pick a flavor first and never chastised him on it being the wrong kind, even if he swapped between ordering red raspberry or spumoni. Yeonsu personally loved all flavors but had the fondness for chocolates and caramels having not had the simple luxury of candy growing up. History was circular when it turned out Seonhee had a fondness for raspberry sorbet the times she used to drag him to a mom-and-pop ice cream shop back when he was coming out of the chin-deep end of his depression.

Han seemed to study him more intently, like a tourist tossing a coin to a street performer and expecting a shot. Han’s kindness in shared meals and money were done to ease what little bad feelings he held within his conscience. The older Han had a live-in pet project for all intents and purposes. He could throw resources he wouldn’t miss at the younger male and be reaping in benefits that yielded tenfold returns regularly. There wasn’t any need for him to be worried about insubordination either, that much was clear. Having similar backgrounds – having someone like Yeonsu Kim become and play Joongi Han was almost a way to try and reach back into mending the holes and cracks of the past for more selfish reasons than selfless. Han’s cruel attitude towards his other subordinates and the kindness he showed to the body-double was a more extreme form of “balancing” like people who would buy wardrobes and wardrobes of clothes only to donate just to make the hole in their pocket burn less. The older Han wasn’t the most evil man in the world but he was far from an angel or a benevolent god.

Seonhee on the other hand had a more casual air about their outings while still holding the aura that demanded respect from everyone surrounding her. The first time they went out, the old man behind the counter gave her the table order for free. If it wasn’t Joongi, no one else in Geomijul would have managed to get away with just pointing out what they wanted off a table menu. He wasn’t berated by anyone for picking a chocolate brownie sundae. Seonhee’s order was simpler only getting a two scoop dish of raspberry sorbet but her face showed no complaints and one could almost think she was flattered when the man said it was nice to see two siblings still looking out for each other. If he was telling the truth or trying to simply pry in a way that led to probing their actual relationship, it seemed sincere. Joongi’s internal monologue sometimes lapsed into distress in the later days of his time under the older former Han’s wing and it definitely had its peaks while adjusting to life under Seonhee’s leadership. She never said anything, it was all self-imposed. His obsession with becoming stronger as a younger adolescent fueled him chasing fads and quick fixes of varying levels of danger once he had more freedom. The older Han’s recommended exercise regimen wasn’t meant to be expanded upon and doubled over. Other hosts at Stardust would talk of their methods and while the real Han would never be caught conversing deeply with them, the younger one made a point of listening in on their conversations when he could just to have a better feel of what was “in”. Yeonsu wasn’t exposed to pop culture as heavily as those with more regular childhood developments so he wanted to make up for lost time. Seeming refined and unapproachable was its own allure but the best host should have been someone who was completely well-rounded in knowledge and experiences. Talking about his own exercise routine and regimen really wasn’t something other ladies wanted to hear, the occasional male customer might ask but they weren’t the largest spenders so it was important to be able to meet the biggest demographic. He had to be the best host and live up to the older Han so anything he could do – he would do it. His own pain and suffering were secondary.

He ate slowly across from her at their booth. She having finished long before him did not click her tongue. One hand folded in her lap she pulled out her phone and seemed to be scrolling social media. The sundae started to seem like a mistake to order if he knew she would have been done that quickly but something about it seemed appealing. He had never had a brownie in his life, that was partially why. How long had it been since he had something sweet in general? Outside of social contexts, the younger Joongi lived off unseasoned chicken breast and steamed vegetables. Kimchi was acceptable since it provided electrolytes he wasn’t getting otherwise. His over-training and poor eating habits were factors that could also be attributed to dangerous training failures of which landed him in the later situation where Seonhee had to roll a 45kg barbell off of him and nurse his bruises. He never repeated that again but the fact it happened was its own source of embarrassment. He could push his plastic red spoon around the glass dish as much as he wanted. She was looking out of the corner of her eye, but he didn’t notice. She kept her attention seemingly glued to her phone and they sat in the continued silence as the shop’s pop radio station played in the background. The toes of her foot were tapping the melody but she was mindful to not tap with the back end of her boot lest there be audible signs she was doing what she was.

Joongi finally finished what seemed like an insurmountable task despite its actual realistic severity and challenge, he overcome the roadblock. Seonhee scrolled on her phone for a few moments longer so as to not rush him out the door even if she had plans on making him carry her bags later at the mall. They would “have” to buy dinner from the food court while they were there and someone would have to be sure her clothes purchases were to remain safe. Turning her phone off and sliding it in her jacket pocket, she grabbed her purse and began to get up from the booth. If Joongi didn’t have his gaze fixed on the floor maybe he would have seen a faint smile in her eyes when she simply asked “Good?” – he found the words to utter a “Yes.” with a firm nod, they were on their way. That was all their conversation entailed that day, repeating the ice cream shop scenario at a table in front of at a mall Pizza-la. Joongi took less time with his oversized slice of tropical pizza, Seonhee made the order again but just made it large enough that what she wanted was for the both of them. Joongi liked the flavor of the pineapples. Ham and pineapple seemed vaguely like what was in some holiday image of a magazine he was flipping through as a child. It wasn’t like he could read the words though and that memory was so far back, it wasn’t like he could be sure. Was that what they ate at family dinners in America? He had to make a mental note to try and see if maybe that would be anything worth looking up out of curiosity later. Looking at old holiday ads with photos of families was somewhat heartwarming if he let himself be soft, his birthday being in December – embracing imagination the light displays that popped up around that time were partially for him in a way. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest with images of snowy towns and light festivals open more than enough times it could no longer be counted on both hands.

That day did a lot for his well-being, sparking a deeper interest and respect for food in more than his “gym-bro” approach was doing, he did unconsciously begin the path of opening himself up to the strict self-constraints he imposed on himself. He still was extremely attentive to his physique and held onto certain rules but the newer freedom and flexibility with food was a sure sign that he was stepping in the right direction of coming out of his former depressive state. At the very least, fixing that would mean he was at less of a risk of injury. He still was going to be operating as Joongi Han and required to do what Seonhee needed of him for the Geomijul. They couldn’t do without him, whether he fully understood it or not.

Occasionally the urge to punch the mirror would come across his mind. A passing impulse he knew he would never answer the call of. The younger Yeonsu may have still grown to have a handsome face of his own, but the younger one would likely want to punch the mirror out of a sense of powerlessness. Try as he might, his looks would have done him nothing back home. He was permanently always the black sheep of them all, not that he could blame them with the kind of father he had. If he could not be perceived, he would have had an easier life. In a way he did get such a wish even if the eventual sleepless nights consumed thinking about it and his failure to be the one who died came to mind. Onset grief always loved to take its time in paying a visit. Shaking his head and brushing his teeth, he had a day off from work and was free to go wherever. His thoughts drifted to you and Zhao.

Zhao was like a foil to most of Joongi’s most negative traits, or an antidote. Zhao never seemed to be fixed on the particulars of exercise and nutrition. Zhao was still raised in an iron-fisted household where his mother had dinners ready if there wasn’t someone else ordered to cook it or a more occasional night out. Working as a chef resulted in being more focused on the particulars of what made food taste good and achieving the perfect balance of salt, fat, and acidity in order to bring the flavors of the ingredients used to a perfect harmony. How he managed to be so flexible was a mystery beyond him but he knew Zhao still did his own training.

Zhao had been enrolled into so many extracurriculars by his parents on top of being expected to have perfect grades and tutors to fill in the gaps of whatever his public education lacked – splitting his academic career up he would likely have enough credits to earn all three of you a high school degree with ease. His home-life was a gilded cage which resulted in him developing the bravery and desire for rebellion where he could. It manifested in how he dressed which followed him into adulthood, the loud music he listened to, the games he loved and could barely play, the mangas he read and had to hide in a hole under the mattress lest they be burnt to a crisp. He got to keep a used GameBoy Color until the screen snapped that way, disposing of the evidence was hard but for the joy it provided – it was worth it. His lackadaisical attitude and carefree nature was the exact opposite of what his father wanted but Zhao won in outliving him so the victory was in his corner. He cared a bit for the old man of course but his home was the most strongest in looking after those in the Liumang.

His mom showed him how to cook some against it being waved off as a waste of time so he would always hold a fondness for that but it still didn’t make growing up easy. She passed of natural causes before his father did. He was still a person with his own deeply kept worries and fears. His insecurities in being a leader or becoming the way his father was what encouraged the decision to hand over lead to Seonhee and merge the Liumang with the Geomijul. He still had a head role in the Liumang’s operations but he likened himself to a figurehead kind of guy. He would still have to get his hands dirty from time to time but not enough time required he wouldn’t be able to come back to You Tian and wash up for a kitchen prep session. Life started to fall into place for him the older he got. It wasn’t the easiest ride and there was still bumps in the road to deal with but overall meeting Ichiban and later you opened up doors he wouldn’t have thought of. Using the time spent together helped him realize his feelings and it only worked out more in his favor that forming a romantic triad in which all of you were still equals on each other’s terms went off without a hitch. It still wasn’t something openly known but when the time was right it would be cool to shout it out to the world, regardless of it was embarrassing for Joongi and you, he would at least have some permission first. There wasn’t many rules and norms he could care about but all of his favorite people came first. Zhao could march to the beat of his own drum regardless of if there was a band behind him or not – living the way he wanted still earned him that band so clearly he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

You had your own share of past troubles and insecurities – putting on a brave face was part of making everything okay in the end. Bottling up emotions would only lead to an overflow in the worst possible times and sometimes those outbursts would be explosive enough in the wrong argument that it became impossible enough to walk it back. Was that what landed you in previous predicaments and booted on a plane to Japan to stay with some host family that later also kicked you out and couch surfing in Tokyo? A little bit of yes and a little bit of no, leaving a minor to fend for themselves even with the most verified and attentive host family in a country where they didn’t speak the language was highly ill advised as a parenting choice. There hadn’t been any attempt to establish contact since really, if it wasn’t for making use of technicalities and loopholes thanks to the fact that all your papers were kept secure in your trusty bag finishing school online would have been difficult.

Tracking someone down online if they didn’t want to talk to you would be a waste of energy. Aging out of most orphanages within a few years – it was fortunate that developing your physical skills and putting up with hasslers on the streets kept you moving. Certain gyms had better bathrooms to wash up in over others and finding laundromats to handle clothes wasn’t a difficult task within major cities. Especially if the norm was that apartment complexes didn’t always come with in-unit set-ups. Simple fixes of clothes that could be done with a needle kept what you had from becoming tattered beyond repair and it was easy pocket change or a free lunch in return. Bartering was another form of currency. Sometimes, a sandwich from someone else becomes a first-aid kit from a busy office worker who suffered a terrible delivery mix-up during the lunch rush – other times it’s having pocket tissues for a poor soul in a restroom who ran out of toilet paper and letting karma guide kindness back in return. This did result in finding a 10,000 yen note on the ground with no clear person who could have lost it once. Finding that much money would be devastating to lose but even after surveying high and low, arguing with the forces that be was only self-sabotaging. It was your cash now.

Other crafts like painting and sculpting seemed interesting but it was hard to have the ability to do those kinds of things without having a stable place. Coloring with a cheapo booklet of kid’s pages and crayons could kill time without needing online access and not be the largest usage of bag space though. Things were different now that you had the room above the Survive Bar. The goal for the day was to head out and look for some paints. Somewhere in the Commercial District, you had spied a crafting goods store and made a mental note to walk back and check it out when the chance was available.

An older lady you brought aloe vera for and spared some gauze dressing to on a street in Kamurocho was once working on a project of her own. On a wide blue tarp, she was taking old glass jars and wrapping them in an old towel. Sitting in the clear zone off of the tarp, the shattering of the glass was muffled. She revealed herself to be an artist by trade. Introducing herself as Kamiko, she had grew up in a fishing village, Higashiizu where she made sun-catchers and sold them to great success. She had burnt her fingers the previous night pulling glass she was baking out of her oven. Finding herself in Kamurocho, she was working on coming up with a new design by just creating in the natural environment. Kamurocho wasn’t the most nature-filled city of them all, it could be pretty at night in the right spots if you wanted to admire the street lights but that seemed like all there could be to offer for someone of her particular calling. She waved off the idea that the city itself was bereft of inspiration and in continuing conversation you had come to find out she was travelling across cities to meet with a company that was willing to invest in her own line of DIY paint-at-home glass sun-catchers. If everything went well with the company, they would include making easily removed stick-on sun catchers where anyone who wanted could paint one and not have to worry about fiddling with finding a spot to hang them. Little things like kid’s painting craft sets sent you back to the time where such things were easy finds in dollar stores, although usually the better ones were at least $5 or $10. You had spent a lot of time fiddling with those and cut-out stencils that came with packs of colored foam squares on adhesive paper. Once a square was removed you could stick it on the stencil and gradually have your own 3D textured stencil. It was pretty much a time-sink but it was cheap fun even if the result would later wind up in the trash. You held onto what you could for as long as possible but if things disappeared then so they did.

Kamiko was grateful for your help and had sent you on your way with 5,000 yen and one of her finished pieces, a mini bullfinch sun-catcher on a string. The pale red, rosy stomach of the bird was easily it’s charm point. It wasn’t a commonly seen bird but the black stripe with the gray and red on it’s head almost made it seem like a raccoon. Coming across a child who had scraped their knee by the children’s park near the old Pocket Circuit stadium you knelt down to see what you could do for the little buddy. The stadium had closed down due to the owner needing to attend to personal family matters but the community hoped he would return one day. Bandaging up the boy’s scraped knee and not knowing what else could be done to soothe him, you decided to give him the bullfinch sun-catcher. His face immediately lit up and the tears that threatened to trickle down his face had eased off. Telling him to be more careful when playing and to tie his shoes a little bit better, showing off your trick for keeping yours tied – the boy’s mother had came to pick him up and you were thanked for being kind enough to look out for him.

What you didn’t know was that the world was frighteningly small at times, that boy and his mother were family of one of the company CEOs, Kamiko was meeting with. His love for the little bullfinch secured her product deal and that spawned in a fairly popular line of sun-catchers and sun-catcher stickers. Popular products included one of the Kamurocho red gate off Tenkaichi Street, a Onomicho head, birds like the bullfinch, and more basic pieces like flowers and planets. For awhile in Sotenbouri, a Kani-Douraku suncatcher kit was selling like hotcakes.

Making your way to the crafting goods store in the Commercial District, you ran into Joon-gi and Zhao who were both heading in your direction. The rest of the crew was occupied with their own lives today – Ichiban had said something about being a tester for new senbei to help Eri out since it was technically his company. Boss was out on a weekend long mahjong tourney, so it was just you managing the bar as you saw fit. If you didn’t want to open then it was pretty much an off-weekend. The bar’s sporadic schedule didn’t quite endear it to other customers but the nature of it did make it a cult phenomenon when the business was actually open at regular timings. The curry he made was always a hit with critics! He said you could probably get the same result serving yours but that sounded like a lie and one you wouldn’t want to test with such a reputation on the line.

“Oiiii! [Reader]chi, baby – we were just coming by to see you! What’s popping?” Zhao was dragging Joon-gi along behind him with the classic stealthy hand hold when you crossed paths with them. Joon-gi looked happy though so the three of you were able to form a small huddle in the corner of an intersection. It was pretty easy to stand-out even without the other resident loudmouths of the bunch, although it wasn’t like anyone random ever approached people like Zhao and Joongi. They were instead left staring and too intimidated to speak.

“The whole town can hear you Tianyou. Did you forget your volume control at home?” Joongi was more open in poking fun at Zhao even if he clearly didn’t seem to mind too much. A glare would have been all he needed. It was amazing how much he could communicate without needing to open his mouth but Joongi being more expressive was another victory. Maintaining his cool composure made him harder to read. Zhao knew he had tried and failed multiple times at psyching Joongi out by silently challenging him to an impromptu staring competition, behind his usual tinted sunglasses it was hard to tell such a challenge was being imposed without actually focusing on the energy of Zhao’s gaze. It would have killed the boring nature of the old Ijin Three meetings if Joongi actually had more of a gold mine of reactions that he pulled from. In a way the fact that Joongi didn’t stifle at all under his usual guard position by the door was entertaining in its own right.

“Popping? Where did you pull that line from? I was on my way to go look for some paints at a new craft store I discovered earlier. You two are more than welcome to tag along, old man is busy being an old man competitively all weekend.”

“Most competitive old man? Do they have conventions for that?” Joongi muses

“Yeah, I’m sure they get to count gray hairs and complain of joint pains until the last one is left standing. It’s in between the mancala and the mahjong tourney” Zhao snarks

“Rude, mancala is a good game! The half marbles were always really pretty, the few times I got to play growing up.” you spent more time examining the colorful half marbles from the board than actually playing with another person. The half marbles came in an array of colors and were smooth to the touch. Some of the marbles almost seemed like they had real flower petals trapped within, almost transparently so. You were dejected when none of them were reflective enough though to try and angle the sun’s rays into making a light beam from the window to the opposing empty school desk. Too much time had been spent watching early children’s programming that shown off experiments like making a mini rainbow with a piece of paper, a flashlight, and a prism. It was unfair that getting your hands on such a prism was an impossible task. Maybe a magnifying glass was involved too or that was being enjambed into the original memory you had from some other experiment entirely. The idea of trying to burn a hole through paper with a magnifying glass had its own allure.

“If you say so babe, the winner is almost predetermined by whoever goes first. It’s not the most entertaining game in the world.” “I’ve never heard of it before.” “See! Joon-gi isn’t on your side here.” “He’s not picking a side.” “You’re still outnumbered here-“ – playfully bickering back and forth the three of you eventually make way to your intended destination.

Your eyes widened as the store clerk called out “Welcome!” when the three of you stepped in. There was shelves of old discounted glassware and pottery. Wind chimes adorned the entryway in all kinds of colors and forms. Some seemed to be made of marble while others were made of metal or wood. In the back you could see there being a towering wire rack that created a rainbow of spools of yarn. Patterned fabrics made up three separate aisles with easy needle and hook kits for a crafter’s intended art lining the end caps. Some of the fabrics were intended to be sold for gift and lunchbox wrappings so they had their home in the respective gift-wrapping aisle which was accompanied by more washi tape and ribbons than you had ever seen in one place before.

Crafting kits for all ages were on the left area of the store and heading in that direction would lead the three of you to what seemed like the most you could have ever asked for. Coloring books for adults and kids with crayons that ranged from basic shades to every child’s dream of a 96 or 120 count box set of colors were there. The most enthusiastic customer could take home a 300 count caddy. More specifically smaller boxes of pearlescent and skin-tone compliant colors were available too. Color pastels for those that didn’t mind the mess were in stock as well. Was Heaven on earth this store? It sounded like a good candidate.

“Look look! They have these! Come on, come on!” – capturing your eye was a display shelf of those extremely distinctive sun-catchers you recalled the artist Kamiko had been working on getting onto shelves, however long ago you had came across her at work in Kamurocho of all places. The Onomichio head one was an absolute need. Of course, the iconic Kamurocho Tenkaichi Street gate was a must do gift for the Boss. The windows at the Survive Bar had plenty of space for them and they were small enough that it would take a moment to really intake the scene around and observe the atmosphere of the Bar for those who stepped inside. Multipacks of the set with the Sun, stars, and Moon were calling your name. Your fixation on little things like that intensified ever since you three became an item. Being sentimental was easy but you wouldn’t have it any other way. The moon in itself was a connector, if you were apart from someone and feeling lonely you could always take solace in the fact that the sky above was always the exact same one. Those feelings were just intensified late at night.

Your arms were quickly filling up but luckily Joongi had already taken it upon himself to pick up one of the deep green baskets by the doorway, he trailed slightly in front of Zhao. Zhao’s mastered art of the cool-guy walk with a slightly outstretched jacket to cover that Joongi’s opposing hand had been filled with his. If you weren’t bounding around the store, it could have been you but the walk back would be a perfect make-up opportunity. Walking in a line with bags of items could make for good cover or a game of sorts. Not that there was any knowing of if familiar faces would show up or not but the idea was innocuous enough. How often do you see a triple threat like you three holding hands? The concept was funny enough to him and he could watch you flounder in the middle of it if it came down to it. Neighborhood gossip culture was different in the Bar District. At least, there was a general sense in that any gossip was generally kept pretty locked down and word could only spill out to a small circle before the identity of the source would wrap its way up around to the target. There would be a few exceptions in the interest of social justice and safety as self-regulating any issues before relying on the police was the norm. The usual bit of news would be co-worker drama where someone tells so-and-so that Coworker A should quit and a “concerned” barkeep might either offer an attempt to give advice or be a listening ear. Those that enjoyed continued patronage might straddle a fine-line between the sides just to keep things interesting and hold more than one loyalty. It was a complex ecosystem that surprisingly never resulted in major disaster, a disaster worthy of local newspapers at the very least. As penance for the Harbor Light incident in the attempt to keep the peace the Geomijul and Liumang were free emergency security for the area. A few members had their own favorite bars outside of the regular territory within the area so it was equally important that Seonhee and Zhao had some tabs on how things were going. They didn’t rule the whole town completely but staying on the good side of regular people as much as could be done in a public-facing way was its own form of soft power.

You excitedly explained how you helped the older woman who was responsible for the line of mini-sun catcher stickers and the hanging ones that were carefully placed in the basket Joongi held up for you. Your smile beamed from ear to ear and it was infectious. Both of them had to resist the urge to pull their phone out in the moment. Picking up some extras for the intention of getting them to do some with you, you might’ve bounced through the roof if they let you. A few little painting kits and some coloring books + extra materials later (you couldn’t resist). The emergency sewing kit you kept wasn’t in need of a refill anytime soon thanks to not making the most out of a more “wilder” camp life. You knew where you could go the moment you wanted some though. Emblem patches and iron-on ones were good personalization options and throwing together little gifts for other people was one way of spreading love and joy. Some of it could be reduced down to unnecessary knick-knacks when living light but usually you had done your best to find anything that wasn’t purposeful and had to be gone a better home regardless of what that looked like. The barter system wasn’t bound by the rigid confines of capitalism. Talking about the things you made or worked on the past like sock-puppets from new free packages you knew weren’t going to work regardless of how hard you tried, Zhao noticed you definitely had nothing that resembled them in your room or anywhere upstairs. Decorating with string lights was one new development. In that moment, he knew he would have a way to hold on whatever your art was to you when he could. Pictures on the fridge from one of his babies? He was signing up, the whole fridge would be covered until magnets could no longer fit. Handsewn stuffed animals? Fuck yeah they can find a place with him. He would want Joongi to have some too if that was how things were to pan out but it was extremely clear this was something you really enjoyed and he wanted in on it.

Joongi was never let in on what the other kids were doing so he missed out on most opportunities like coloring or handicrafts. Not that the women in the grouped housing made it a point of showing boys how to work with a needle. That was knowledge to be passed onto the girls as they aged if they showed promise. Not enough to waste on those that could care less. They were a minority already so the ones who seemed to be the most “traditional” of the ones were clear favorites and would be watching over the younger kids more than the women did. He could never say it was any of their fault though. It was just how things went, most of the times, sewing was how they got their money if the men weren’t providing enough or providing at all. He was in the latter camp so he was dead weight when the men were taking their sons to work like it was a special event. His father was likely in a godforsaken alley hiding from the sun. No son of his would be caught “demeaning” himself if he heard about it – it was going to be a new reason for a beating. His hands were tied with a double bow-knot. No one could stop him from taking an interest now, if he could learn a thing or two it would probably serve some good. He did find himself an unofficial laundry boy for the Geomijul even while being second-in-command since the restructuring and restoration efforts. Even as things were improving and extra income pulled in from Seonhee being involved with Ichiban Confectionary as an aid and earning from stock dividends, it was still a long road in making sure everyone had what they needed. Making sure no one went without and keeping from replacing things when repairs could be made would help out a lot. He just hoped if you offered lessons, he would find some skill. Small starts would be enough.

Zhao had disappeared momentarily when Joongi was asking you further about how you started sewing and if you would be able to show him some basic stiches when there was time. He reappeared with a basket full of furoshiki, traditional wrapping cloths and said to think nothing about what he was doing. He seemed to have a grin that was clear he likely would put some of it to use cooking for the both of you but the polite thing was to give him the benefit of the doubt. Paying for what you picked up at the register, Joongi had dropped some coins that cling-ed off the laminate floors as you were going through your wallet. “You dropped these, allow me.” and went down to the ground – returning up with a faint flourish and pressing them into your palm. Zhao took notes about the trick he just witnessed him pull; he was smooth. Must’ve been in Ikèmen 111 and shit everyone knew he passed. It wouldn’t be the same if he tried but maybe Zhao would just have to flip the tables on him.

The three of you did walk back to Survive Bar in a line. Your hands while still carrying some of the bags that contained what you bought had been distributed to Joongi. The free spaces in your hands were swinging in the filled spaces of theirs. If anyone was nosy enough to care it was a game of train. Life was too short to be a boring adult. Making usage of the off-day, the three of you spent hours at the booth painting the suncatcher kits you picked up and Joongi would just have to go with you on another trip to the crafting store another day to pick up some beginner sewing kits to aid along in his learning process. Speaking of the catchers you three were all working on, you mentioned having took similar ones and sticking them on cracks of old busted up mirrors in public bathrooms. They were for the public and it was debatable when any replacements if ever were to be made. No residue was to be left behind if they were peeled off or if someone wanted to pop it off, regardless of the setting so they were something people might use to brighten up bathrooms in their own homes. The idea came off the back of the box from a butterfly one. Butterflies were maybe overdone but no one ever had been heard complaining about them. A little extra color in the day could be the extra push someone needed to get through it. It was a little bit embarrassing but you had purposefully picked up three sets of the ones that were of the sun, moon, and stars. As a matching set between all three of you, it really wasn’t a subtle callback to the night of the confession. If you were connecting stars, Joongi – a moon-boy, and Tiantian, the sun – it was a fitting keepsake. All exist within the same sky.

Of the matching sets – each person painted what was their personal symbol. Everyone had one of each but Joongi wound up with a Kani Douraku crab and a bullfinch. Zhao had an Onomichio Head and a bulldog. He laughed as he did the slogan and phrase in a mockingly deep baritone with you. It took some goading but you two managed to get Joongi to do it too. It wasn’t like anyone was recording or taking photos. Although making a group photo out of it sounded like a splendid idea to your ears so Zhao was the +1 canceling out Joongi’s hesitancy. If all three of you had a photo on their phone it would balance out right? There was a tripod folded up to the side in the employee closet so you all lucked out. It made setting a timer and getting the right angle easier. Once the image was in you three’s group-chat it was only a couple of minutes before Zhao had cat ear stickers on everyone and really went hard on putting twinkly stars around Joongi with music notes to really rub one in on him. You giggled as Joongi was the flustered one and was in the middle of balling himself between the seat of the booth and the table. You just rubbed his shoulder and leaned down to whisper reassurances that the two of you could do the same with Zhao as payback. Zhao wasn’t the one who was with his face closest to his knees but flipping a spotlight back on him when you three were apart from one another would do the job just fine. The three of you found yourselves laughing and sitting down to delivery from Pizza-la. Joongi was sent home with leftover slices in a take-out container. Seonhee liked leftover pizza possibly slightly better than freshly made pizza, so he could share with her and if asked just claim the mood struck him when he was out earlier and he thought she would have liked some. How long had it been since they shared food together? The bag holding his suncatchers were held tightly in the other hand as he made his way back to the Geomijul compound.

His monochromatic and dull bathroom would have some color added to it. If he had to look in the mirror and take note of both of you and Zhao’s handiwork, he wouldn’t be as concerned with what the mirror was reflecting. The mirror was just another surface, he could change what it meant to him and redirect his thoughts. Caring for himself and loving himself on a deeper level only allowed for him to deepen how much he could love and care for others. If he was sick or injured, he couldn’t do so in the same capacity.

“A piece of all of us on the mirror” he thought. He hadn't had anything evocative of a family photo before. Maybe he could have an excuse to take a group photo with the gang. No one ever said he couldn't decorate his room.

#zhao x reader x joon gi han #zhao tianyou #han joongi #joon gi han #yeonsu kim #x reader #joongi's favorite fruits are pineapples #yakuza like a dragon #like a dragon #we love seonhee #zhao tianyou x reader x joon gi han

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oddeyevibes · 2 years ago

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IchiZhao Polyamory headcanons

Whenever Zhao cooks for you two, he occasionally likes to feed you both. It's a mild kink for him but he won't admit it. You and Ichiban picked up on it though and simply don't mention it.

Ichiban often feels guilty for getting big gifts from yall just because he's not used to it. Y'all love reassuring him that he deserves all the gifts.

When he talked about the manga he read before going to jail, you instantly picked up that it was Hunter x Hunter, letting him read the volumes you had at home.

You'll sometimes play games around each other but not with other. It's relaxing and there's a groove to it. Sometimes there's no sounds other than the noises from the game. If one of you are playing a competitive game, there's the occasional "fuck" or "shit" which gets the other two laughing.

Rest assured that if you’re ever sick, both of them are making sure you’re taken care of. Zhao is the one that has a more stern approach, especially if you the type that think working through your sickness. Ichiban coddles you during the entire time too but he backs Zhao on being stern.

Expect dates to the arcade. They start off at first with you all winning little toys for each other, soon turns into winning stuff for the crowd of kids y’all attracted.

Study sessions where you and Zhao are helping Ichiban prepare for his exams.

NSFW

(bear with me, I'm still getting the hang of writing the good stuff)

I know it would be typical to say it but Zhao is usually the one in control when it comes to sex. When he isn't, then it's your turn.

Ichi's got a kink for being dominated. Whether it's being restrained or being ordered around.

Zhao likes to overstimulate, especially when it comes to you. Loves the sound of you trying not to let it all out. It's music to Ichi's ears too who can't help but palm himself at your cries.

Ichiban's favorite position: the face-off.

He likes the intimacy of being face-to-face with you both. He likes to nibble on your necks in between whispering desperate affirmations and moaning. He likes to hold yall really tight too like he's afraid of losing yall in the moment.

If you have a thing for dudes moaning hella loud then Ichiban's your guy. Also has a massive praise kink so make sure to tell him how much of a good boy he is.

Zhao's favorite position: Doggystyle.

Specifically, he likes to lift y'all up and have y'alls back pressed against his chest. He likes to whisper taunts in y'alls ears too. He can be a little mean too.

#ichiban kasuga x reader #ichiban kasuga #tianyou zhao #IzhiZhao x reader #zhao tianyou x reader

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simizzy-writes · 2 years ago

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That's great! I don't mind waiting so take as long as you need! Can I please request Tianyou Zhao with a foreign fem s/o? I'm so happy to find someone who writes for him!!

i love this man. thank you for requesting and for being so patient! i hope that this is what you were hoping for 💕

Pairing: Zhao Tianyou x Fem!Foreign!Reader Warnings: suggestive themes. mild language. zhao being a sarcastic little shit. A/N: i kept the country of origin and native tongue ambiguous on purpose to be more inclusive. same with leaving out physical descriptions of the reader.

It seemed like a good idea a few hours ago.

For the past few weeks, you have kept yourself limited to your apartment, the route to work, your office space and back again. But now that you felt - at least somewhat - acclimated to the different time zone and change of locale, you decided to branch out a little. To explore Ijincho. The only problem?

You were lost.

When you accepted a position within your company to relocate to Japan, you were thrilled. Sure, it was halfway around the world and you wouldn't know anyone once your feet hit the ground - but it was Japan! You always wanted to at least visit Japan, but now you are living here! The salary increase certainly pleased your bank account with this new position as well. Two birds, one stone, as far as you were concerned.

You were not prepared for how easy it was to get lost here, however.

Maybe it was because your understanding of the written language wasn't as perfect as you wished it to be, or that once you were amongst crowds of people who spoke only Japanese did you really begin to realize that you were a stranger in a strange land. The longer that you were lost the more it felt like your grasp on the language was retracting. Arguably, you were fluent in Japanese, but anxiety has a funny way of making you second guess yourself. Especially when you knew that you were a foreigner speaking a second language.

You came to understand that the people of Japan were much more accommodating compared to what you might have been used to in your home country. They were quite understanding of your speech, despite how your accent still strained some of the pronunciations of the Japanese alphabet. So, when you first suspected that you were lost, you of course asked for directions. You recalled the gentleman who helped you fondly as he gave you directions to Hamakita Park, which from there you could navigate to your apartment. You thanked him profusely, and went on your way. It was about that time that you realized that maybe you didn't pay attention as much as you should have. And maybe that you should brush up on your knowledge of kanji and hiragana because my God did all of the signs look the same.

You dipped into an alleyway off of Isezaki Road. You pressed your back against the side of some building, trying to catch your breath. You rubbed at your temple, trying to visualize the conversation that you had with the man who gave you directions. No use.

With a sigh, you continued down the alley, finding it more pleasant than the main road, if for nothing else than it was quieter. Did he say to go towards the station or away from it…?

When you reached the end of the alleyway, you felt it. The tickling sensation up your spine when you enter a place that you shouldn't have. The atmosphere changed, and you looked around. The sounds from the main road seemed far away - so far away - and the air was thick with a type of miasma you couldn't recognize. There were concrete stairs across from you, and your gut told you that you needed to go. This was not the place for you to be, and even if it meant getting lost even further, you needed to get out of the alley by taking the closest exit.

But you were too late, it seemed. Three men walked down those concrete steps, lost in conversation. You bristled and turned to exit the alley, but two more men were walking towards you. Shit.

"Hey," one of the men from the stairs called out to you. His voice was rough and strained. He looked like trouble, and for a moment it reminded you of the type of men back home that lingered in the shadier parts of town. The kind that had bad reputations, and the kind that everybody knew to stay away from. Glad to know that it was seemingly a universal trait, even halfway around the world.

You ignored him and tried to walk past the two men blocking your exit. They were too quick for you, however, and smiled as they crowded you. You were blocked in. Shit, shit, shit!

"You lost?"

It was the man who had called out to you the first time that asked the question. Tentatively, you turned around, holding the strap of your purse a bit tighter.

"Yes," you answered. "Just trying to find my way home."

The man smiled and licked his lips slowly. "Yeah, you're lost alright. Look at you. Definitely not from around here. What kind of accent do ya have goin' on there, girly? Sounds exotic."

Snide chuckles. Your stomach dropped.

The man approached you slowly, amused at how you shrank away from him. "Do you need directions? Why don't you tell me where you live, and we can make sure you get home nice and safe, yeah? Or maybe you can keep us company for a while instead?"

You could cry, and you cursed yourself for not knowing some kind of martial art. Your heart was in your throat, and you never felt so small in your entire life.

"What's going on?"

A smooth voice pierced the air. The men around you snapped to attention, turning around immediately to face the source of the question.

A man emerged from the concrete stairs, and your breath hitched in your throat. You froze, eyes pleading and desperate. He was either your savior or another threat.

Leather covered him, a black and gold shirt standing out underneath his jacket. Round, dark glasses obscured his eyes. His black hair was slicked back and his gold earrings caught what little light illuminated the alleyway.

The other men around you bowed in his direction, and gave him a wide berth as he came closer.

"She's lost. We - "

The man in leather and gold cut him off. "And you fine gentlemen were going to be good Samaritans and help her find her way, weren't you? You weren't going to corner and trap this little mouse, right? I'm glad that I know such upstanding citizens."

His voice was thick with sarcasm. Each syllable was airy, lilted and coy. He seemed amused as he rubbed at his goateed chin. His nails were lacquered in black, each finger wearing a ring that seemed to wink at you as it caught the light. A smile curved his lips, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as he eyed you closely.

The men said nothing, keeping their eyes focused on the ground. They seemed to be waiting for a strike they knew would come. There was a hierarchy at play here, and the man in gold was clearly higher up on the food chain than the rest of the men.

"Why don't I help you, miss? Walk with me."

He walked past you, tilting his head in the direction of the main road. You followed him quickly, heart racing and legs shaking from adrenaline.

You breathed a sigh of relief as the man guided you to Isezaki Road. The two of you stopped under a streetlight, and as you tried to calm your poor heart, he lit a cigarette.

"Sorry about that," he said. Smoke danced from his lips. "They didn't hurt you, right?"

You shook your head. "No. Thank you for stepping in like that."

He shrugged. "Never been one to let women get preyed on like that."

The ash of his cigarette glowed as he took another drag. You nodded carefully, and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. You preferred not to think about what would have happened if he hadn't shown up.

"Anyways," he said, "Where are you headed? I'll give you directions."

Believing it wise to not disclose your exact address, you told him that you needed to get to the park. Flicking his cigarette aside, he began to give you an explanation of how to get there. But he stopped short when he saw the look of exhaustion that veiled your face, and he smiled.

"How about I just walk you there?"

—

"You're not from around here."

What an astute observation. "No, I'm not," you said.

"You have an accent," he mused. "It's pretty cute."

You blushed and kept your gaze forward, ignoring the smile that adorned his face in your peripheral.

The entrance to the park was just up ahead, and you felt the tension in your shoulders ease as you felt like you were approaching familiar ground. Your companion in black seemed to notice, and outstretched his hand in a grand gesture towards the park.

"Well, here you are, miss," he said.

You thanked him - both for guiding you to the park and for helping you earlier in the alley.

He hummed. "Not a problem. But, uh…just some friendly advice. I wouldn't go back there again, if I were you. You probably shouldn't wander into dark alleys, you know? Safer that way."

There was a warning undertone to his words, masked by a coy and boyish charm. It was not lost on you. So, you nodded and agreed to stay out of any alleyways from now on. You wished him goodnight, but you paused mid-turn. Fiddling with the strap of your purse, you looked at him curiously.

"What's your name?" you asked

His smile grew a little wider, canines catching the light from the street. He seemed to consider his answer carefully, looking to the side and then back at you. With a slow, deliberate lick of his lips, he answered you:

"Zhao."

—

Survive Bar.

That's where you saw Zhao again.

Some coworkers elected to go out one Friday night and were able to hustle you into going with them. It was an amazing feat on their part since you had become notorious for always spending weekends cooped up inside. It wasn't that you were against the idea, you were just…introverted, maybe? Who knows.

So it came as a surprise when you followed your coworkers into the unassuming jazz and karaoke bar to see Zhao bellowing out a duet with a rather tall and wild looking man in a red suit. They had pleasant voices, if only a little slurred from whatever they had been drinking that night. There were a few other people already there, as well. A couple of pretty women, an older man who screamed "retired cop", a guy with unruly hair and glasses, and a rather exceedingly handsome man with silvery-white hair. They were drinking and cheering the duet on with great enthusiasm.

Your coworkers ordered drinks for everyone while you found a place to sit, having chosen one of the small booths by the windows. You sipped leisurely at your drink when it came, amused - and perhaps a little envious - at how your colleagues could introduce themselves to the other patrons and carry on in conversation with them so easily. You were always more of the observant type, though. Let them do the talking.

"Well, if it isn't the lost little mouse."

Zhao approached you, glass in hand. He slid into the seat across from you. The ice cubes in his drink clinked together in a sweet chime, and you could smell that it was whiskey.

"I would prefer it if you didn't call me "mouse"," you said firmly.

He held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to offend you. What should I call you then? You never gave me your name."

You eyed him over the rim of your glass as you sipped the last of your drink. You offered him your name politely.

He smiled. "[Name]," he repeated slowly. The lilt and purr of his voice made your name sound luxurious. Like fine silk and gold. Damned if your heart didn't soar at the sound of it.

"I see that you're here with friends," Zhao mused.

You shook your head. "Colleagues, mostly. I don't…really have any friends here." Here meaning Ijincho. All of Japan, really.

He nodded, fingers pressing over the hair of his goatee. "Have you been here long?"

"Not really," you said. "I mean, it's been a few months, but it hasn't been long considering how many years I lived back home, you know?"

"Where are you from?"

You told him about your home country, adding in details about how you always wanted to visit Japan and jumped at the chance to take this job opportunity. As you spoke, you worried that maybe you were boring him. But Zhao hung on every word you said, eyes glittering behind the darkness of his glasses. He was bemused, and enjoyed listening to you speak. Your accent was still there, and he found it endearing.

You stopped short at some point, becoming bashful at how much you dominated the conversation. "Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble on like that."

Zhao smiled, leaning back against the booth. "It's not rambling. I enjoy listening to you "

You flushed and fiddled with your empty glass. A shy smile pulled at your lips, despite your attempt to bite it back. You weren't sure what to say, frankly, so you opted to compliment him on his singing. "You sounded great, by the way."

"Yeah, you like that? I like to think that I can carry a tune pretty well. How about you? Wanna sing with me?"

"Oh, God no," you denied. "I couldn't! I'd get stage fright."

He laughed, airy and soft. You could melt.

"Fine, fine. But if you won't sing with me, you at least gotta cheer me on."

He threw back the rest of his drink, and stood up. Holding out his hand to you, he encouraged you to follow him to the small stage. You accepted, pleasantly surprised at how soft and warm his hand was.

Zhao cycled through some songs until he chose a suitable one, and you stood a little off to the side to watch him perform. As the song started to play its beginning chords, Zhao winked at you.

"This song goes out to [Name]," he announced cheekily. "She says I have a great voice, so for those of you who have ever said that I don't, you can bite me. Adachi-san, I'm looking at you."

You couldn't help but laugh as the man who looked like a cop - Adachi-san - gave Zhao the finger and waved him off.

It was another great performance, of course.

—

It was late by the time you decided to leave Survive. Your colleagues had left long before you did, but you had elected to stay behind and visit a bit longer. Courtesy of Zhao, of course. He delighted you, and you were pleased that you had his attention all evening. Some of his friends, whom you were pleasantly introduced to, had gone upstairs to crash, while one or two others decided to head to their own homes to sleep.

Zhao, however, offered to take you home.

"I'm guessing that you live around Hamakita Park?" He asked as the two of you stepped out of the bar. The night was cool and damp, a sign that it would rain sometime soon.

"Yeah," you confirmed. "I can just take a cab."

Zhao nodded, placing a cigarette between his lips. The gold plating on his lighter shimmered as he lit the end of it. "As long as you get home safely that's all that matters."

There was a cab not too far ahead of you, and you chewed on your lip nervously. You turned to look at him, melting at the sight of his long jeweled fingers rising to take the cigarette from his lips. He really did have amazing hands.

"Do you…," your voice drifted off. Zhao raised his brows inquisitively, although you suspected that he knew what you were trying to find the courage to ask. "Do you want to ride home with me?"

Your nerves were frayed. Maybe it was the liquor, but your body hummed at the sight of him. He truly was handsome, and while you weren't usually the type for hook-ups…you couldn't help it. You really couldn't. And unless you were imagining things, Zhao was just as interested in you as you were in him.

"Are you trying to get in my pants, [Name]? I hope that you don't think I'm that easy," he teased. Oh, that smile of his would be the death of you. Boyish and coy, like he could charm anything and everyone with just the curve of his lips.

It amused him deeply to see you blush and tell him that if he didn't want to, he could just say no.

"Mm, I don't remember saying anything like that," he breathed. "Lead the way, baby girl."

—

It went on like that for a while. After that first night, the two of you exchanged numbers, and you went out as often as your schedules allowed. The exact amount of time that passed didn't mean much to either of you, especially when you came to understand that Zhao moved at his own pace for everything.

He had told you about his life with the Liumang, and everything that he was involved with once he had met Ichiban and the others. He showed you his scars and hid nothing from you. This was who he was, past and present. Of course it wasn't a good life - but it was his life, and he wasn't going to start feeling ashamed for it now. Not with you.

So maybe that's why it surprised you to see him almost shy when he asked you to be together exclusively. You couldn't resist teasing him for it.

"Hey, I just know that it's a big step from what we had before," he countered. His fingertips twisted one the rings on his hand. Around and around it went. "I don't have the kind of life that seems honorable to others. A lot of what I do is illegal. If you don't want me - "

"Don't be ridiculous," you said. It came out in your mother tongue. "Of course I want to be yours. How can I resist you?"

He smiled and the mischievous spark in his eyes returned. "I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"Extremely humble, too."

His hands found your waist, pulling you into his lap in one fluid movement. It was second nature to kiss him like this, lips moving together in a sensual and languid dance. He knew nothing of chaste kisses. It was all passion, or nothing.

You moaned, and he drank down each perfect vibration. Zhao traced the curve of your spine, drawing constellations on the galaxy that was your skin.

He needed more, and his lips traced the line of your jaw and down the curve of your neck. He tongued your pulse, suckling on the tender flesh. Your fingers laced through his hair, nails dragging on his scalp. Shivers coursed through him, and he groaned into you, pressing you closer to him.

"You wouldn't mind having a foreign girlfriend?" You asked, your tone playful and light. "You'd get some looks hanging around me, you know. I'm not very familiar with some of the cultural traditions you may have, either "

"Do I look like a traditional kind of guy to you, babe?"

Zhao leaned back, one of his hands reaching up to hold your neck. His thumb traced over your kiss-swollen lips, and he smiled at the way they parted for him on instinct. "Nah, I don't care about something like that. You're sexy and beautiful. Whip-smart. And your accent is just too cute to resist."

"Again with the accent! I can't help it. Don't make me bite you."

His laugh could tame tigers and soothe lions. You melted deeper into him, caught up in his redolence. "I don't know what you said, baby, but you sound so fucking hot when you talk like that."

You kissed him again, your tongue forcing its way past his lips. A laugh and groan, all in one from him, rumbled against your mouth and he pressed you closer still. Heat was rising in you, a deep need for Zhao to touch you even more. Your hips rolled against him, the only resistance being each other's clothes.

"Mm, does my baby want something?"

His teasing would be the death of you.

"I want you," you moaned. "Zhao…"

His strength surprised you as he held your thighs firmly and lifted himself up from your couch. He knew your apartment like the back of his hand, easily being able to navigate the two of you to your bedroom as you kissed him senselessly, legs wrapped around his waist.

A delighted squeal left your lips and he tossed you onto your bed, and he admired the way you looked sprawled out beneath him. Carefully, slowly, he stripped himself of his shirt and tossed it aside. Zhao had full confidence in his appearance, but it was always nice to see how you shamelessly eye-fucked him every time he undressed.

His lips left a trail of kisses from your thighs, to your stomach, the valley of your breasts…until finally he rested himself upon you and took your lip between his teeth in a gentle bite.

"I'm gonna take care of you tonight, baby girl," he purred. "Feel free to talk dirty to me in that sexy language of yours, though, yeah? It gets me all hot and bothered."

#zhao tianyou #request #anon answered #yakuza 7 #tianyou zhao #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 7 imagine #tianyou zhao x reader #zhao x reader

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