#tokyo rev x yn

[laika6007]

Rest

tw: multiple characters x reader, reader pov, exhausted, (if you guys find more please tell).

┊⠀⠀┊⠀❀⠀⠀┊⠀┊⠀ ⠀⠀ ┊⠀⠀┊⠀┊⠀✿

Exhaustion filled my body from head to toe. My eyelids felt heavy 'Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a few moments, that wouldn't mind, I can get back to studying after some minutes.' My head bobbed waking me up. Placing the scattered pens and highlighters, assignments which i worked my butt off, aside. I tried shifting my posture to lay down on the desk and rest when I felt fingertips massage my scalp.

"you know you can sleep on my shoulder right?"

I looked up from the desk to give him a side glance. He had his eyes glued on the laptop screen.

"don't want to disturb" I replied shortly in a muffled voice while laying my head back on the desk.

The voice of my chair screeching against the floor filled my ears. Hands slid between my forehead and the cold metal of the desk and placed my head towards his shoulders. I readjusted to the new position.

"wake me up after 15 minutes." I said while nuzzling my head further onto his shoulders. And dozed off.

"I'll wake you up when I know you've rested well".

"rest well". I felt a chaste kiss on my forehead.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Haikyuu: Shinsuke Kita, Keiji Akaashi, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Daichi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane, Hajime Iwaizumi, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Chikara Ennoshita, Suna Rintarou.

JJK: Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Toge Inumaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Megumi Fushiguro, Noritoshi Kamo, Mechamaru.

Tokyo Rev: Takashi Mitsuya, Chifuyu Matsuno, Seishu Inui, Hajime Kokonoi, Hanemiya Kazutora, Izana Kurokawa, Atsushi Sendo, Angry, Haitani Rindou, Kakucho, Shinichiro Sano.

(and any of your favourite characters)

a/n : please ignore the grammatical errors :)

[at1nys-blog]

The one that left

Pairing: Hanma Shuji x fem!reader

Summary: a little lie is the best option, even if it lets your, and Hanma's heart broken into million pieces

A/N: Tokyo Revengers spoilers chapter 188 I guess, sorry I don't remember the actual chapter but I know is before the Bonten Arc which starts at chapter 189 so yeah; made myself cry...

Masterlist

Shuji Hanma had a safe place, you. Everytime he had a problem, or he just wanted to stay away from whatever was gang's related he drove right at your place.

He would sneak in from the window of your room if it was too early, knowing your parents, read your dad, were still up; if it was in the midle of the night, like today, he would just knock on your front door, just like right now.

But today was different. Everything was, the plan he and Kisaki elaborated failed, Kisaki died, the police was after him now and your dad was the one answering the door.

"She is not home." he simple lied to the boy. Henma tried to get in, he couldn't believe you weren't home at that ungodly hour. "Boy, I said she isn't here." you father yelled-whispered to him.

"Why isn't she home? Is 4 in the morning?" he kept asking questions after questions. He hoped you were somewhere safe, maybe at your friend's house. He wished you were at your friend's house. "maybe she went to party?" he asked. "I can wait her inside. Can I wait her inside?"

You could hear the disperation in his voice, he needed you, he really did. You felt your stomach burn, your eyes started to water at the thought that you couldn't help him. You had to cover your mouth and bit your lips. I'm sorry Hanma, I'm very sorry. You told yourself, back against the wall of the living room.

"She will not be back any time soon, she has left Tokyo." you did not left the city, at least not right now you will tomoroww. I mean, in some hours.

"But... she didn't told me anything." he said, shock painted all over his face. Why didn't she told me? Was it something I did? Said? What? His mind was rushing to find an answer, something to make sense of your non comunications with him but nothing came to mind.

"Oh boy, you didn't notice did you? She tried to tell you but you were so caught up in your gang's stuff you never paid attention to her." said your father, you were silently sobbing now, the light of the tv the only source of illumination in the dark room. You had to suffocate a painfull scream to not let him hear you.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, sir. It won't happen again" he bowed, wishing your father good night and then left. The man waited some minutes and then checked if he was gone from the parking lot of your apartament building. When he came back inside, you let out your pain, crying like a little kid that was denied a toy.

"Shh, shhhh, is okay my kid. I will never understand but I can tell you care for him too much." you kept crying in his chest letting it all out. "you just need to stay away from Tokyo so you can move on quicker." after that no one talked, not even your mother when he reached the two of you in the living room. She kept her distance, looking at you crying in your father's arms as you were 2 once again, and him stroking your back and hair assuring you everything was going to be fine.

You stop after some long minutes, too tired to keep crying and too tired to keep your eyes open any longer. Your father carried you in your room as when you were a little kid; tucked you under the blankets; kissed your forehead good night and left you sleep, wondering what were you going to dream in such a state. He hoped for nothing.

Unbeknowst to the three of you, Hanma Shuji was back in the parking lot, attention at your apartament wondering where you were now and what you were doing. Were you sleeping safe and sound? Were you having good dreams? If only he knew you were in your room, sleeping with a broken heart, as his.

[beeing1alive]

Turning on Tokyo Revengers boys without knowing it pt.1

f.t.: Mikey (Manjirō Sanō); Draken (Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya (Takashi Mitsuya); Baji (Keisuke Baji); Chifuyu (Chifuyu Matsuno); Kazutora (Kazutora Hanemija)

Warning: Nsfw content, minors do not interact

Mikey:

can't help but get a hard-on when he sees you sitting on his motorbike

especially when it's summer and you're wearing short clothes

his gaze veils slightly, he draws the air through his teeth slightly and watches every movement you make

i'm not going to lie, he's never got hard so fast

Without hesitation, he ran over to you and sat on his motorbike with you, just to kiss you a little more intimately than he wanted to

you can always tell if he's Horney when he kisses you extremely kinky in public

Draken:

Gets hard the fastest when you wear his clothes

I think we can all agree when I say that he has a size kink

I mean, he just can't help it when he sees you in his clothes, which are obviously way too big for you

especially when you're wearing one of his shirts and otherwise just a pair of panties

his eyes would darken slightly and he would slowly move towards you to tell you that he has a big little problem in his trousers and that you could help him with it

Mitsuya:

jealousy turns him on immensely

I mean, I know he doesn't look it so much, but he gets rock hard in seconds when he sees you talking to another boy for a little too long

a chiselled smile appears on his handsome face and he tries as hard as he can to hide the ever-growing and pulsating bulge in his trousers, which he manages to do quite well

as soon as you and the boy are ready, he pulls you behind him, gently but firmly

the moment you arrive in a quiet corner, you are his

Baji:

nothing turns him on more than seeing you in a leadership position

I mean, when you assert yourself and do all those leader things

he'll sit still, his eyes veil slightly and he watches every little move you make

I'm not even lying when I say that he just sits there and a slight, barely noticeable blush spreads across his face as he notices his trousers getting tighter in a matter of seconds

Chifuyu:

gets hard within a few seconds if he sees you in short clothes

for example, shorts and a revealing shirt

he is just too innocent and would blush extremely and in rare cases get a nosebleed too

if he feels confident enough, he'll snuggle up to you from behind so you can feel his hard boner pressed against your bum, which doesn't make it any better for him

he'll gently give you a sweet kiss on the neck and tell you that you know how much it turns him on when you wear revealing clothes

Kazutora:

turns him on most of the time when you're sitting or lying on his lap

the first few times this happened, he was very uncomfortable because you felt it directly when he got hard and he can't hide it

when he's feeling very horny, he tries to move his hips against your bum to create friction

if you're also wearing short clothes, he'll almost come in his trousers at the slightest touch

I mean, that divine view of you, in short clothes, on his lap, pressed against his hard cock

he just can't help it, so don't be angry with him

Here is pt.2

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

[izanacore]

“can’t say no” | rindou haitani x reader

one-shot 𓂃⋆.˚

synopsis: rindou and y/n have always been best friends—doing everything together, no boundaries, no awkwardness. but when y/n calls him over for an unexpected favor, things take a turn neither of them saw coming. one request changes everything… and stopping isn’t as easy as they thought.

characters: rindou haitani, fem!reader, ran haitani

warnings: smut (18+), best friends to fwb, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, slight choking, hair pulling, manhandling, praise, mild degradation, phone sex (sort of), ran being nosy, possessive rindou, teasing, implied multiple rounds, slight innocence kink, slight corruption kink, slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, “just the tip” (fails miserably), and overall just very bad decision-making

notes: ig we are all just down bad for rindou. and i had to put ran here, i can’t really separate the two.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

rindou and y/n were best friends. the kind that did everything together—eating, studying, sleepovers, movie marathons. the kind that talked about sex like it was just another tuesday. casual. effortless. harmless.

but they had never crossed that line.

until one afternoon.

y/n: rin, come over. need ur help w something lol

rindou: ok. omw. u want food on the way?

y/n: nah, got leftovers here.

rindou: alright. see u.

ten minutes later, the door to y/n’s apartment swung open. nothing surprising. rindou had a key of his own at this point.

“riiiiin… come here,” her voice rang out, laced with a whine.

rindou strolled into her bedroom, hands in his pockets, only to freeze at the sight before him.

y/n. sprawled across her bed. sheets barely covering her. skin flushed. hair a mess. breathing just a little too uneven.

yeah. she just fucked someone.

rindou swallowed. hard. not that he hadn’t seen her naked before—because let’s be honest, their friendship had long since left the realm of normal—but this? this was different. this was post-sex. this was…

“yo, what’s up?” he asked, forcing himself to sound unaffected.

y/n patted the bed beside her. “rin, come.”

his jaw ticked. he walked over but didn’t sit. “what is it this time?”

she huffed, pushing her hair back. “so… i just had someone over—”

“yeah, no shit,” rindou deadpanned.

“listen!!” she whined again. “so… i need your help with something. it’s… it’s okay if you don’t want to, but you’re the only one i trust, y’know?”

rindou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “yeah, yeah. just spit it out.”

y/n’s face twisted in frustration. “i’m so fucking annoyed. this guy just—ugh. he came too much on me, and i want it out. like now.”

rindou exhaled sharply. “so what do you want me to do?”

y/n looked up at him, lips parting, voice breathy when she said—

“fuck me. i don’t know!!! just help me get it out of me.”

rindou sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “on your back.”

y/n shifted but paused. “wait. we’re not actually gonna fuck, right? just… y’know, you have to make the cum come out, so yeah.”

rindou nodded. “mhm.”

y/n laid back like he asked, pushing the sheets off her. rindou pulled his shirt over his head, then unbuttoned his jeans, but there was something almost hesitant about the way he did it—like he was still wrapping his head around the situation. y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching him.

then, out of nowhere, rindou leaned in and kissed her.

her brows furrowed slightly, lips parting against his. “rin… you just… you just need to… no need for this.”

but she still kissed him back. it’s not like this was their first kiss or anything.

rindou pulled back just enough to mumble, “oh. s-sorry. i thought i had to, um… prep you first?”

y/n blinked, then chuckled. “oh. alright, i guess this isn’t bad.”

apparently, that was all the confirmation rindou needed because he dipped back down, this time kissing along her neck, slow and careful, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing—but the soft little sighs y/n let out told him he was doing just fine.

“rin… ugh…”

he swallowed hard. her moans sounded… different when they were for him.

when he was satisfied (or maybe just too flustered to keep going), he shifted, positioning himself between her legs, one of them resting over his shoulder.

“don’t go all in,” y/n reminded him, voice still breathy. “just… help me make it come out.”

rindou nodded quickly. “okay…”

his tip pushed against her entrance, sliding in just slightly as he moved at an almost careful pace.

“shit, y/n…”

after a few shallow thrusts, she exhaled. “is it working?”

rindou bit his lip, brows knitting together. “i… i don’t think so. should i go slightly deeper?”

“yes, please do.”

his breath hitched. he pushed in halfway, trying to focus—really trying—but fuck, she felt too good. the tight warmth, the way her walls clenched around him…

a shaky groan slipped past his lips before he could stop it, so he buried his face against her neck, hoping she wouldn’t notice just how much this was getting to him.

rindou kept going, one hand gripping her waist, the other bracing against the mattress beside her head. his breath was ragged, his pace relentless. “fuck, y/n… so this is how tight you are?”

y/n chuckled, tapping his back. “rin, i think it’s already out.”

but rindou wasn’t listening. he was too far gone, too drunk on the way she felt wrapped around him.

“rin…” she called again, but it was useless. instead of slowing down, he buried himself deeper, his thrusts turning rough, fast—skin slapping against skin in a way that left no room for restraint. he went all the way in. there was no going back now. he was fucking his best friend.

his fingers curled around her wrists, pinning her down. y/n moaned, arching into the pleasure. “rin… shit, you’re going too fast. slow down—”

but rindou wasn’t in the mood to listen. his mind was blank, consumed only by the feeling of her. before she could protest, he pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach, pushing back inside with no warning. a sharp gasp left her lips as he fucked her harder, his hands gripping her arms, keeping her exactly where he wanted.

“shit, y/n, your pussy is so fucking good… should’ve fucked you before.”

suddenly, her phone rang.

rindou barely faltered, but he did release her arms, settling his hands on her waist instead. “answer it.”

y/n hesitated, then reached for her phone, swiping the screen. putting it on speaker, she assumed rindou’s brother needed something. “r-ran…?”

ran’s voice came through the speaker, casual. “hey, y/n. you with rindou right now?”

before y/n could respond, rindou snatched the phone from her hand. “what do you want?” he sounded breathless, impatient—still moving inside her.

“mom said you need to come home. she made dinner.”

rindou groaned, long and low, hips snapping into y/n without missing a beat.

ran went silent. then—

“are you guys fucking right now?”

rindou smirked. “yeah. so fuck off. tell mom i’ll be home soon.” he hung up before ran could say another word, tossing the phone aside.

without warning, he grabbed y/n, pulling her up until her back was against his chest. one hand slid up to her throat, fingers curling slightly, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper. the other pinned her wrists behind her back as he fucked into her, deeper, harder.

y/n’s body trembled from the intensity. “rin… fuck, so good…”

“yeah?” he panted, voice rough. “better than the guy you had earlier?”

she nodded eagerly, too lost in the pleasure to think.

rindou suddenly leaned in, licking a slow stripe up her neck before capturing her lips in a deep, messy kiss—tongues tangling, teeth grazing, her fingers twisting into his hair as she moaned into his mouth.

“rin… i’m gonna cum. shit, ugh—”

“me too, y/n… fuck! love your pussy...”

the pleasure crashed over her, her whole body shaking as she came hard around him. rindou didn’t stop—he was chasing his own high, desperate for release. when y/n’s body went limp, falling forward onto the mattress, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her to look at him.

a few more brutal thrusts, and then—

“shit… shit!!!! ugh—”

rindou groaned as he came inside her, hips jerking, thrusts turning sloppy as he milked every last drop before finally pulling out and collapsing beside her.

y/n, still on her stomach, lifted herself just enough to crawl onto his chest, resting her head there. rindou’s arm lay lazily across the bed, completely spent.

she huffed. “i can’t believe you came inside me. you fucked me for nothing.”

rindou smirked, eyes still half-lidded. “then i’ll fuck it out of you again. at least this time, it’s my cum.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “then it’s gonna be never-ending sex.”

rindou shrugged. “i don’t mind.”

she poked his side playfully, then sighed. “didn’t know you were a good fuck.”

rindou smirked. “you never asked.”

y/n bit her lip, glancing up at him. “…then let’s do it more often.”

rindou’s eyes darkened with interest, and just like that, they went for another round—completely forgetting about dinner at the haitani household.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

the walk home felt longer than usual. maybe it was the lingering exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that his body still felt sensitive from earlier. either way, rindou was drained—but satisfied.

he pushed open the front door, stepping inside with a low sigh. “i’m home.”

from the dimly lit living room, ran’s voice greeted him. “you better come up with a good excuse to mom for coming home this late, or she’s gonna beat your ass.” he chuckled. “dinner’s on the table. just heat it up.”

“okay.” rindou’s response was flat as he made his way into the kitchen, too tired to care.

he barely had the microwave open when he sensed ran following him.

“was the sex that good you went on for hours?”

rindou didn’t even flinch, grabbing a plate. “yeah. best fuck i’ve ever had.” his voice was still painfully plain—too casual, as if he were talking about the weather.

ran hummed, leaning against the counter. he watched rindou for a moment before snorting. “y’know… if you didn’t make a move, i was gonna hit her up myself. that girl is so pretty. literally my type.”

rindou’s grip on the plate tightened slightly.

ran smirked. “man, i knew you had the hots for her. even before you did, but you were just too fucking slow.”

rindou exhaled through his nose, finally looking up. “fuck off. she’s off-limits now.”

ran chuckled, completely unbothered. “as if i care about that.”

and with that, he strolled out of the kitchen, leaving rindou scowling as he heated up his food.

but ran’s words lingered, and now rindou had a whole new problem—keeping his nosy ass brother away from his girl.

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. episode 08: lost in the fire.

preview: " . . . Without a second glance, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot, his voice low and taunting. “I don’t feel guilt, doll.”

“I…” you cannot put into words how you feel, it feels as though you had swallowed your tongue and any smart retort you had prepared is thrown out of the window. Shuji notices the change in your expression, how you went from being incredibly affected by his words to nothing all of a sudden. There’s an emptiness behind your eyes as you nod at him. “You’re right.”

And then you were gone. ."

word count: 5,3k

content warning: nsfw warning! heavy smut, choking, biting, n!pple sucking, unprotected s/x, not enough foreplay, jealousy.

༉‧₊˚. note: happy new years :) starting 2025 with a new chapter! thank you to my amazing best friend @aurelianamu for being my beta reader and helping point out mistakes and things that needed serious editing! i am still on a hiatus, but enjoy reading. thank you!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

➜ MASTERLIST

Hanma openly admits his vocabulary isn’t exactly expansive, chalking it up to his teenage self choosing cigarettes over books, biker gangs over libraries and nasty fights over going to school. Only that he knows a couple of words, they’re still insufficient when he is facing this hurricane of emotions and fails to locate the heart of it. He can’t pull the plug on something that’s blurry, so he sits in his car and looks out of his window. The vehicle trembles in sync with the rhythm of his restless foot.

A tattooed hand goes up to his face, and he slides down his blouse cuff to stare at the watch adorning his wrist; 10:32PM. You had to be awake, right? 

One would question why he couldn’t simply send you a message, and the truth is far more complicated than that suggestion. He can’t message you when he was the one who told you he doesn’t fuck you on your period. You were offended by his tone more than what he was implying, and told him and he quotes ‘to go fuck himself and never come back again’. 

Now, this wasn’t the first time that the two of you had a petty argument, the earliest one Hanma can remember was of him saying he didn’t want to eat your homemade food because he thought soup was boring, and you had glared at him the whole night until he apologized with his head between your thighs. Or when you tried to insinuate that he was so much softer than you had thought, the night ended with tears streaming down your face as you gagged and choked on his cock. 

The two of you didn’t know what communication was, sex seemed to be the solution to everything. Well, except for this time.

You were understandably hormonal when you texted him, asking if he could drop by and hang out with you for a couple of hours at the beginning of November. And him being an asshole, he made some poor joke about how ‘he doesn’t fuck women on their periods because they’ll get attached’ and the rest is history.

Hanma doesn’t think he fucked up that badly, but that wouldn’t explain the fifth cigarette he throws out of his car window as he glares daggers at your balcony door. You can’t keep ignoring him forever, it’s been ten days. 

He mutters a sharp “fuck” under his breath as he swings the car door open, stepping out and locking it with a press of his key fob. His strides are long and confident as he reaches into the pocket of his suit pants for another cigarette. Shielding the flame with his hand, he lights it, the glow briefly illuminating his face before he tucks the cigarette between his index and middle finger. He ascends the stairs, smoke curling in his wake as he eyes the apartment doors one by one. Ironically, the one thing he had memorized beside the feeling of your hallway, was the smell of homemade food that emerged from beneath your doorway, a scent which was forever engraved at the forefront of his mind. 

A familiar wooden door greets Hanma as he steps into the dimly lit hallway, and he braces himself for how many times he is going to knock to get you to open the door for him. The memory of you whisper-yelling at him to just get in flashes before his eyes and an amused smirk finds its way up his lips, but it’s immediately wiped off when the door suddenly swings open. Surprised, he takes a step back with furrowed eyebrows, hand reaching towards his gun holster out of instinct. 

Then he hears it, the sound of high heels clicking against the tiles. 

You step out of your apartment with your back facing Hanma, allowing him to scan your outfit for a brief moment. It was cold outside, so you were wearing an oversized, fluffy and warm jacket on top of what he believes to be a short dress, and the black stockings you had chosen for the night bring more attention to your legs. To match the aesthetic of the outfit, you chose to wear your knee high, black leather high heeled boots, adding a couple centimeters to your height. And to finish off the look, you had styled your hair in a way that Hanma could only describe as intoxicating. The perfume you were wearing was dizzying, and it only worsens when you turn around and Hanma sees you with a full face of makeup. The right amount of glitter, the sharp eyeliner, the mascara giving your face that doe-eyed look and finally, that lip combo.

Where the hell were you headed to?

The good thing about working in corporate jobs was the amount of birthday celebrations to look out to. You had at least two birthdays each month, and November was no exception. But to ensure that not every winter birthday is celebrated inside the company, a co-worker took it upon themselves to invite everyone to a club, and who were you to turn down the offer? 

You hated being holed up in your apartment for too long, it made you feel claustrophobic and anxious, and you were getting sick of your balcony and the same boring view. The moment you step out, you get a whiff of cigarette smell and instantly, you realize who was behind you. Your movements are slow and careful as you lock your door, fix the scarf that’s wrapped around your neck to keep you warm then–you see him.

Hanma doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows twitch when you lock eyes with him, he can’t deny that the slight purse to your lips makes the coil in his stomach tighten, then your frown deepens. 

“Smoking’s not allowed in the hallway,” you point out towards the cigarette bud hanging between his fingers.

“Where are you going?” he completely dismisses your statement, eyes scanning your outfit from head to toe for what feels like the hundredth time. He knows exactly what hides beneath those layers of clothing, he’s touched and felt and groped it so many times already–then why does it bother him that you’re dressed so prettily for an occasion?

You’re already fed up with him, your high heels clicking against the tiles as you walk past him and Hanma almost groans when he gets a whiff of your perfume. Fuck, why did he have to be so stupid?

“Whatever, don’t stay here for too long or else they’ll kick you out.” You announce as you call for the elevator, pressing the button as you put your keys in your handbag. 

The tall man is quickly standing behind you. He knows why you’re ignoring him, but he doesn’t think it entirely justifies not answering him. “Did you not hear me?”

You scoff. “You’re saying that?” 

“It’s different, I’m asking where you’re going–”

“And now I’m asking you to mind your own business?” you hear a ding and step onto the elevator, Hanma right behind you. “I’m a grown ass woman.”

“Never seen your grown ass outside at night.” How blunt.

“Oh right, because in the last two months when you’ve known me and rarely ever visited may I add, you’ve never seen me go outside after 8PM?” 

You were bitter, that’s understandable, but that doesn’t explain completely avoiding his question, does it? He was only asking about your whereabouts so that he knows where to expect to see you! 

And perhaps even follow you there. 

Hanma bites his tongue at your words. He would never admit that you were right, or that he messed up by completely ignoring your phone calls and messages because you had told him that you were on your period. However, everyone makes mistakes and it’s what makes us human…

…or however that saying goes. 

The elevator starts to go down, his golden eyes alternate between scanning the number shown in bold colors indicating the floor number and the screen of your phone. You were sending a text in a group chat, he could see the name of it–something about your company, and next to it was the word ‘birthday party!’. He’s thankful that he’s being sneaky enough to be able to look at what you were typing, however that doesn’t last when you finally notice that he has grown a little too quiet. You hide your phone in your chest.

“Can you not?” you hiss, voice laced with venom as you shoot him a glare over your shoulder. 

“A colleague’s birthday?”

“What are you, twelve?” you furrow your eyebrows as you turn to face him fully. Even with high heels, you don’t reach his full height and you hate it. You hate that you are looking up at him, at his handsome face which you didn’t see for a full week, and you absolutely despise the way he is staring at you.

His eyes were devouring you, forcing you to think of anything but how you’ve made them roll to the back of his head countless times. You refuse to stare at his bulging arms, or how his hair was slightly disheveled from running a hand through it. Was he frustrated by his own actions? You hope he was, you hope he fisted his cock pathetically to the thought of you, that his whines were so loud it echoes in his empty apartment. You pray that a mission interrupted his alone time, and he had to finish off some guy he didn’t like with painful blue balls.

And you fervently and desperately hope that he cannot read your true thoughts.

“Add sixteen years to that,” he replies while bringing the cigarette to his lips, taking a whiff from the stick. He pulls his hand away, smirking when he notices the slight shift in your expression and it worsens when he blows smoke on your face.

“Stop that! I don’t want to smell like cigarettes when I get in the car!”

“Oh?” he tilts his head to the side, golden eyes locked with yours as he searches for another clue. “So you need a car to get there?”

“I would be crazy if I walked outside dressed like this.” you ignore his intense stare, masking your nervousness with annoyance as you pull out your phone again. 

“Who’s driving you there?”

“None of your damn business.” 

“An uber.” The elevator finally dings and you hurriedly step out of the cubicle, trying to get away from him as far as possible. 

“Oh! We got ourselves a detective here!” you exclaim jokingly, the sound of high heels clicking against the tiles echoing in the empty hallway. “You should work for the FBI, has anyone ever told you that?”

Hanma ignores your comments, his strides long and purposeful as he walks right behind you. “You keep clutching your purse, it’s open so you can make sure that your credit card is there and your forgetful ass didn’t actually miss anything. You’ll stop getting anxious when you get into the car and pay the driver–”

“Stop that!” You finally turn around to stare at him, and the tall man has to stop himself from scooping you into his arms and fucking you against the nearest wall. You puff out your chest like a balloon ready to burst, a fragile show of dominance and anger, but you were clearly fed up and you couldn’t handle hearing his voice anymore.

“You think you can read me easily, you think using your little criminal tricks on me will get you off the hook, it doesn’t.” you get even closer to the man, a manicured finger poking at his chest with each syllable rolling off your tongue. “You think you’re the only one who can read me? Well, I’ll tell you what’s in front of me right now.”

Hanma remains unnervingly quiet, so you continue.

"I see a man who couldn’t keep his word if his life depended on it. Someone who drowns his guilt in cigarette smoke because facing it is too much to bear. A man so shaken by the idea of me living my life without catering to him that he’ll go as far as to ruin it for me, hoping to force a reaction out of me. Well, guess what? You won’t. So enjoy your misery and your frustration, because tonight? You won’t be getting anything from me"

The only sounds breaking the stillness of the moment were the occasional hum of passing cars outside the building, their distant echoes a sharp contrast to the suffocating quiet of the hallway. The air around you felt heavy as you struggled to catch your breath, your face was in flames. Your gaze flickered wildly over Shuji’s expression, desperate to find even the slightest crack, some hint that your words had gotten to him, that they had landed where they intended to. 

But all you were met with was silence, dragging on until a scoff cut through the air and you felt your chest tightening. 

Without a second glance, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot, his voice low and taunting. “I don’t feel guilt, doll.”

“I…” you cannot put into words how you feel, it feels as though you had swallowed your tongue and any smart retort you had prepared is thrown out of the window. Shuji notices the change in your expression, how you went from being incredibly affected by his words to nothing all of a sudden. There’s an emptiness behind your eyes as you nod at him. “You’re right.” 

And then you were gone. 

He doesn’t try to follow you, the sound of your high heels clicking against the concrete becomes a distant sound the farther you walk away and he stands near the entrance of the building with his hands buried in his pockets. 

It was time to work.

—

“Where were you? We were looking for you!”

“Sorry! My cat threw up on the carpet and I had to clean it real quick,” you say with a wave of hands, looking around the crowded area with bright eyes. “Seems like the birthday girl is having fun!” 

You see a flash of red hair on the dance floor, and chuckle when you notice the way she seemed to effortlessly become the center of attention. People were cheering her on, clapping and asking the DJ to change the song just to match her energy. Meanwhile, you decide to take off your coat and place it on the chair that a coworker had reserved for you. 

You weren’t the type to go clubbing, years of being constantly guarded by your brothers had left you tense and uneasy under the flashing lights, but you envied those who did it so effortlessly. They wouldn’t look as awkward as you do. 

That is until you feel a pair of eyes following your every move, and you are forced to look at them. 

It was a coworker, someone you had grown comfortable around because of his kind gestures. He would offer to help you carry papers around even if you were going to take the elevator, and when you ran out of water or your favorite drink in the fridge, he would be the first to request a restock for you. He was a gentleman, one that didn’t know how to hide his attraction towards you.

And you didn’t seem to mind it, a woman could appreciate being treated nicely once in a while.

“Not going to join them?” He gestures towards the rest of your colleagues who seemed to be enjoying their time on the dance floor. You chuckle as you shake your head, leaning back in your seat.

“Dancing is not my thing,”

The man, whose name is Tomoya, takes this as an open invitation to sit across from you. He puts his elbows on the table as he leans forward, clearly invested in the conversation.

“Why? It’s just moving your body to the beat.”

You press your lips as you hum, leaning towards the brown haired man as you respond.“Hmmm, I’m not sure if I like that.” 

“How about this, if I can change your mind, you–” he pauses as he points his finger at you, eyes glimmering with mischief. “--go on a date with me.”

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. “A date?”

“Yup.” 

How do you explain this to a man you hardly speak to at work? How do you tell him that your life is already entangled with someone else–someone too deeply involved in your world to simply cut loose? The idea of going on a date with Tomoya doesn’t seem so bad, but the thought of facing Hanma, of telling him about the possibility that you want to end whatever it is you have, makes you hold your head in your hands. 

“We’ll see.”

You’ll deal with it later.

The rhythm of the music reverberates through the air as you find yourself on the dance floor with your colleague, Tomoya, who seems to be enjoying himself far more than you. The bass is heavy, the lights flicker like a heartbeat, and for a moment, you can almost forget your reservations. His encouragement draws a timid smile from you, and despite your clumsy attempts to follow his lead, you eventually surrender to the music. The tension in your shoulders eases as your movements become less forced, and soon enough, you find yourself laughing and moving your body to the beat.

You walk through the crowd to greet the birthday girl, your grin bright and contagious as you ask if she’s having fun. Before long, Tomoya succeeds to reclaim your attention. His lips move, but it’s hard to hear anything with the loud music.

“What?” you call out, cupping your ear for emphasis.

With a smile, he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “I said, you look beautiful.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin at his words, and your face heats up. Your laughter quiets down as you shyly glance away, scanning the room for an escape from his intense gaze. That’s when you see him. A familiar figure near the bar freezes you in place. Your chest tightens, the world blurring as you focus on the tall man leaning casually against the counter.

“Are you okay?” Tomoya’s voice snaps you back, but your response is dismissive.

“Yeah, yeah,” you pat his shoulder with a forced smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Your steps quicken as you drag your feet through the crowd, each stride bringing more dread. Please don’t be him. Please. But as you approach him, there’s no denying it. That sharp grin, the cigarette dangling between his fingers–it’s him. Your hand finds his shoulder before you can stop yourself, and when he turns, you’re met with those golden eyes that seem to silently mock your surprise. 

“Well, what a coincidence, doll,” Hanma drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Do you need something?”

“Excuse me,” you snap, your hand gripping his forearm as you pull him to his feet. “We need to talk.”

“Oh absolutely,” he smirks, letting you drag him past the sea of curious eyes. He seems far too entertained for your liking, his laughter barely contained as you shove open the door to the women’s bathroom.

The startled gasps and shrieks from the women inside only add to the dread you were feeling. You glance around apologetically, muttering a quick, “Sorry,” as they scurry out, a few of them shooting you knowing looks. 

“Relationship emergency?” one asks before disappearing out the door.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, locking the door behind you.

“Are you insane?” you whirl around, glaring at Hanma as he leans casually against the sinks, an infuriating smirk painted across his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why? Did I ruin your little moment out there?” His tone is playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes your throat tighten and your mouth go dry. “Mad that I stopped you from almost fucking him?”

“Don’t you even start–”

“Or what?” His voice drops, low and dangerous, as he pushes off the sink and begins to close the distance between the two of you. The confidence in his stride makes your knees feel like jelly, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the way he towers over you so easily. “Tell me, doll, is this why you didn’t want to tell me where you were going tonight? Were you afraid I’d show up and fuck up your little date with that fucker?”

“Don’t call him that,” you retort, though your voice wavers under his suffocating stare.

His eyebrows raise, mock surprise etched across his face. “Oh? Defending him now, are we?”

“I’m not defending him!” you argue, though the crack in your voice betrays you. Shit, you were a nervous mess. “He didn’t do anything to deserve your anger.”

Hanma chuckles, low and menacing. “Anger? Oh, doll, I’m not angry. Not with him, anyway.” His steps falter when he’s inches away from you, his body caging you against the door. “Because we both know he doesn’t mean shit to you, right?”

Your silence speaks louder than words, and the corner of his mouth twitches upward.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs. “It’d crush him, wouldn’t it? If he knew why you’re so hesitant to go on a date with him.”

“I never said–” Your breath catches as his hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upward. 

“So you do want to go on a date with him?” His golden eyes burn into yours, searching for something, though his grin never falters.

You gulp, your voice barely above a whisper. “...maybe.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, and you can’t stop the way your lips part instinctively. “You’re a liar,” he coos, his tone dripping with mock pity.

“Am not–”

A gasp is ripped from your body when you feel his knee push past your thigh, landing perfectly on your clothed cunt as he presses you further against the wall.

“Let’s try again,” he purrs, pressing his lips against your ear. “Do you want to go on a date with him?”

Your lips tremble as you throw your head back, and Shuji’s hand lands perfectly on your throat. He feels a piece of jewelry there, but he ignores it as he squeezes your neck gently, drawing a quiet moan out of you. 

“I…” you start, unable to keep your eyes open as you feel your body burn up. The effect he had on you, the way it felt effortless to make a mess of you felt unfair. You gulp as you try to morph the lust in your gaze into anger. “I do.”

A pair of lips crash against yours almost immediately, and Hanma quickly catches as your knees give out on you at the impact. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss this–his lips, how roughly he handled your body whilst making sure that nothing hurt you, because you craved it more than anything else. So you kiss him, fervently moving your lips against his as your hands claw at his shoulders and back. You felt like a flower starved of sunlight, withering in the absence of warmth and connection. 

Hanma couldn’t offer either, but his touch was enough to fill the void. 

He pats your butt and you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist before sitting you on the sink. The marble is cold, sending a sharp chill against your skin but it quickly fades away when Hanma’s lips travel down your neck, then your exposed chest where your perfume hits his nostrils the hardest. 

The tall man stands there, inhaling deeply as your scent washes over his senses, his eyes closing as he surrenders to its intoxicating pull. He notices the necklace, how it seems to be stuck to your skin even if it doesn’t match your attire and something coils in his stomach.

Without second thought, he sinks his teeth on the skin of your boob, a loud gasp ripping from your throat as your hand finds his hair.

“Not there–” You try to reason with him, but he doesn’t listen. Instead, he sinks his teeth into a different spot, watching as you throw your head back, your back arching in response, a wave of pleasure taking over.

If he could, he would tear that piece of jewelry from your body.

“Shuji,” the sound of his name slipping from your lips is a melodic drawl, intoxicating him like no drug ever could. An animalistic growl rumbles from the back of his throat as he pulls down the top of your dress, revealing your boobs. The cold air makes goosebumps rise on your skin, and your nipples instantly harden under the attention given to them. 

He fervently licks and sucks on the buds, shoving his hands under your dress. You are lost in the pleasure, fingers digging in his scalp as he gently bites on your left nipple, his hand groping the other breast. 

Then you hear a tearing sound, followed by a sudden chill, making you shiver as the coldness creeps in.

“Oh my god!” you scream in horror, instinctively trying to close your legs as you eye the ripped stockings. “Those were expensive you fucking asshole!” 

“Fuck that,” your heart stills when you see him lean down, biting your inner thighs and salivating at the sight of your black thong. “I’ve got money.”

“Y-You’re not buying me a-anyth–ah!” you try to cover your mouth when you feel his head get shoved between your thighs, a wet tongue pressing against the fabric of your thong. And then, you hear a dark chuckle. 

“You smell so fucking good. Did all that fighting turn you on?” he pulls away, his fingers playing with the straps of your thong. “Or did you fuck around hoping that I’d fuck the attitude out of ya?”

Stubborn yet looking for a good fuck, you respond breathlessly.“No.”

“No?” he tilts his head, a mocking expression on his face as he purses his lips. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?”

He sees you look down at your own lap, and bursts out laughing as he finally removes the fabric off of your body. “Ah, you’re so fucking adorable,” he moves away from the sink and starts to unbuckle his belt. You sit up on the sink to admire him as he frees his hardened cock, stroking it a couple of times before standing between your thighs. He notices your starstruck gaze, and a low chuckle rumbles from the back of his throat, as if amused by the effect he has on you.

“Cockdrunk already?”

“Shut up.” You pull him in for a kiss, your hand traveling down to line up his tip with your entrance. He parts his lips, but then you feel him smile against your mouth. You open your eyes to meet his gaze. 

He watches with an amused grin as your jaw goes slack the moment he pushes himself inside, but it quickly fades away when the wetness of your pussy washes over his senses and he has to take a moment to ground himself. 

He can’t cum too quickly, that would be pathetic.

Hanma doesn’t take long before starting to fuck you, slow and calculated thrusts quickly turn into hurried and sloppy ones when your pussy clamps down on him with each kiss he presses to your pulse. He feels his self control slipping through the cracks of his mind, and when he finally looks at your face again, he is reminded of why the two of you were fucking in the women’s bathroom. 

With a clenched jaw and flared nostrils, his hand travels to the back of your head and he yanks it back. 

“Thought we had an agreement doll,” he hisses through gritted teeth, barely able to keep his eyes open as he grips your hair. “I thought you knew that you couldn’t pull shit like that with me. But I bet you like it, huh? You love testing my limits–ah fuck!” you clamp down on him again when he hits that one spot that makes your eyes roll, the added friction of his crotch against your clit sending shivers down your spine as you arch your back.

“Oh my god!” you cry out, the burning in your scalp mixing with pleasure. 

Hanma leans forward, pressing his lips against your cheek as he growls. “Answer me.” 

Tears well in your eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of him. He was everywhere–inside of you, touching you–and now it felt as though he was trying to invade your very thoughts. “Fuck, fuck Shuji please don’t stop, please–” 

He continues to fuck you at the same angle, licking his fingers to rub your clit in messy circles.“You like getting on my nerves, don’t ya? Makes it more fun for me to fuck you stupid.”

“Oh!” You gasp at the stimulation, eyes widening as you try to look down at where the two of you meet. “Oh, right there!”

“I asked you a fucking question.”He spits out venomously, his grip tightening around your head, forcing your forehead to press against his as he holds you in place.

“Yes!” You cry out, not caring about how fucked out you must look. “Yes, yes I do! I love it, oh my god please don’t stop fucking me, please–”

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought–come on baby girl, get filthy with me.” Hanma grins triumphantly, but the pleasure starts to wash over him. “Make a mess on me, pretty girl. Use my cock, you know how to do that.” 

He leans back, watching as you pathetically try to move your hips back and forth. After a few failed attempts, you break down in front of him.

“I c-can’t, I can’t!” You sob, your hips trembling and shaky. Hanma’s gaze locks onto yours, his dark eyes fixated on the tears streaming down your cheeks–the sight of you so fragile beneath him is enough to send him over the edge. “Please, please fuck me Shuji.”

“Fuck–” His hand wraps around your throat, fingers grazing your necklace as he captures it in the same motion, and then his hips find that same delicious pace. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing in the same dizzying motion that made you the loudest earlier, but instead he hears nothing.

You suddenly fall quiet as your body arches away from him and Hanma watches in awe as your hand shakily grips his forearm. The bathroom is filled with wet sounds of skin to skin, and then he feels something wet on his pants and a loud gasp painfully rips from the back of your throat. 

“Oh shit!” His proud laughter dies down on his tongue as your pussy clenches on him, burying his face in your chest. He reaches his own orgasm after a couple of strokes, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own noises.

The two of you sit there in silence, with mostly you trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. You had never cum that hard before, not with a man at least, and your face burns with the realization that you squirted on him.

“Oh no, how am I going to clean that?” you don’t even notice that Shuji’s pants are soiled as well, his cock still nestled in your pussy.

“I don't pay cleaners so I can grab a mop myself.” 

“What?” you furrow your eyebrows as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“Did I not tell ya?”

“Huh?”

 His voice dips lower as his grin stretches wider, “I own this club, doll.”

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[evergone]

Love you

Rindou Haitani x reader

Warnings: swearing, violence (arson, allusions to kidnapping and killing), short and sweet.

Description: Rindou calls the reader on his first night back in jail.

The first night is always the worst. Gangsters go crazy when they hear that Roppongi’s top spot is up for grabs. They go even crazier when they hear that Roppongi’s top girl is up for grabs.

Everyone who’s anyone in the criminal scene of Tokyo knows where you live. You suppose that’s why your lawn has been torched so many times that the grass has turned to soot. The regrowth always comes back greener than ever, but for the extent of time that your boyfriend and his older brother are behind bars their enemies will make sure it stays pitch black.

There have been a few close calls that were just that little bit too close for comfort. The worst was probably the man grabbing you off the street and managing to get you all the way to the door of his car before a handful of Rindou’s loyalists noticed you weren’t where they left you. Rindou says it terrifies him just as much as it does you, but you aren’t sure that’s true. If it were, he would make sure he never got put in jail again.

He loves you and you know this, but you just wish that for once he’d stop, think, have your best interests at heart before following his brother into a murder scene. Or at the very least be smart enough about it not to get caught!

That first night, somehow, he manages to get on the phone. He’s probably stolen someone’s call time. Typical.

“Hey, babe. How you doing?” His voice is quiet, soothing to your ears which have been on high alert all day.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say back.

“Is Kakucho there yet?”

“Not yet. He texted that he’s on his way about ten minutes ago.”

“Bit late… It’s already dark.”

“Don’t you go worrying.” Your heartrate almost doubles, but you let out a soft chuckle as if you’re joking. “I’m relying on your calmness to keep me calm.”

Outside, the wind is picking up, and you pull the cord of the landline over to the window with you as you hold the blinds apart just enough that you can see out with one eye. There aren’t any clouds in the sky yet but a distant rumble anticipates a steadily approaching storm. Hopefully Kakucho can get to you before the rain starts to come down. You see a bright white crack shatter the perfect blue-black of the night sky just outside of Roppongi.

“Okay, okay, sorry.” There’s a smile to be heard in Rindou’s voice, but you can hear the tremble in it too. “What’ve you been up to today, hm?”

“Oh, you know: work, lawyer for you two idiots, work again to pay for the lawyer.”

“Work at the club or the music store?”

The club where you sing to follow your dreams, and the music store where you work to keep your house together. The Haitani brothers may very well work you to death — if they aren’t careful they’ll have your murder on their hands, too.

“Music store. Sold thirty of Ayumi Hamasaki’s album, you know the one, yeah?”

“Yeah. Didn’t know it was still popular, how long’s it been now?”

“Months.”

A knock on the door makes you jump halfway out of your socks. Rindou asks you to keep him on the line while you open it, just in case, so you pop the phone down on the kitchen bench and make your way to the door. Before opening it, you grab the baseball bat you leave in your umbrella stand and wind it up over your shoulder.

“If you’re not Kakucho you better get the fuck up out of here!” You shout, and Rindou lets out a half-laugh overhearing you.

You unlock the door, and whoever is on the other side immediately forces it open. Panic strikes you just as loud thunder growls outside and you swing the bat at the intruder as soon as you see their foot take its first step inside. A shriek slips out as the intruder grabs the bat with a strong hand. You can’t hear Rindou on the other end of the phone calling your name. You can barely feel your body as your knees give out to terror. You fall downwards, inwards, into the mighty, muscular arms of the intruder.

It takes at least a minute, but what feels like hours for Rindou who is shoving his brother towards the other phone in the jail and trying to give him Kakucho’s number while simultaneously trying to make sure he can still hear you, before you realise whose arms these are.

“Madarame?” You whisper.

“Kakucho got bogged, fucking dipshit, so he called me to drive ‘round to keep you company tonight,” says Shion as he slips the baseball bat back into it’s usual place and chews on the toothpick between his teeth. It’s a habit he’s picked up to stop smoking, but as he makes his way to your kitchen window, opens it, and lights a cigarette, you can tell it’s not working. “You using the phone?”

Your eyes widen as you scramble over to the phone and pick it up, “Rinnie?” Shion crinkles his nose as he mockingly mouths Rinnie at you, you return the favour by poking your tongue out at him.

“Y/n!”

“It’s just Madarame, sorry!”

“Oh, okay. Good.” Rindou paused for a moment. “Stay safe, Y/n/n.”

“Yeah, always do. You stay out of trouble, Rinnie.

“Always do.”

"I love you."

There’s some shuffling and snickering in the background of Rindou’s call. You recognize some of the laughter as Ran’s, another, deeper, belly-level laugh is Mocchi’s.

“Rinnie, I said I love you~ You gotta say it back~” You muse.

Shion is watching you with an amused smirk on his face and he says, “Do you reckon he’s gonna say it in front of all those guys?”

You nod. He always says it back.

On the other end of the call there is more shuffling, and all the laughter sounds like it has been put behind a veil or something.

“Love you,” Rindou whispers so quietly you can barely hear him.

The laughter erupts ten times worse this time, not just snickering, but full-blown hilarity overcoming at least four different people. You let Rindou hang up, then you dish up some dinner for Shion and yourself. It was bound to be a long night.

[starkura]

them giving you flowers for no reason

only did mikey, baji, and mitsuya bc i kinda gave up 😭

mikey

in front of you was mikey. he was holding a bright and colorful bouquet of flowers. there was no occasion for you to receive flowers from him. “did you do something wrong?” you questioned. mikey only gave you flowers on special occasions. he didn’t usually give you flowers out of the blue. maybe if he did something wrong, he’d give you flowers. “why are you asking that? im giving you flowers.” he said. “well, today’s isn’t any special day, so that only leaves me to think you did something.” you explained. he rolls his eyes at you playfully. “hey, i’m not always trouble!” he exclaimed. he took your hands and place the flowers in them. “take them before i change my mind.” he told you. you laugh at him lightly. he crosses his arms and looks at you. “you know I don’t need a reason to give you flowers, right?” he said. he sighed and rolled his eyes once more. “okay, okay. thank you for the flowers. i appreciate the thought mikey.” you smiled at him. “c’mon, let’s head home now.”

baji

“why are you giving me flowers?” you questioned. baji was at your front door holding out a bouquet of daisies. today wasn’t anything special, so you were curious as to why baji was randomly giving you flowers. “do i need a reason to?” he questioned. he gave you a confused look. did he really need a reason to give you flowers? “well, i don’t know. it’s kinda random. you didn’t do anything bad…did you?” you wonder. “pft! no! why would i? can’t i just give my wonderful partner some flowers just because?” he says. “you sure? you didn’t get into any fights or anything???” you say once more to make sure. “yes, i’m sure.” he said seemingly exhausted. you look at him once more to check that he’s telling the truth. by the looks of it, he seems to be truthful. “okay, okay, thank you for the random flowers kei.” you smiled. “finally, who wouldn’t love receiving flowers. why are you so skeptical?” he questioned. “well, why else would you give me flowers?” you said. baji sighed and looked at you. “you think so badly of me.” you laugh lightly and invite him inside.

mitsuya

“roses?” you asked. mitsuya turned to you. “for you.” he said. at first, you smiled warmly at him. however, your mind trailed off to your curiosity about the flowers. why did he give you flowers today? today was just a typical day, nothing special or unordinary. mitsuya never forgot to give you flowers on those special days like anniversaries or your birthday. this led you to think he did something wrong and you just don’t know about it yet. “mitsuya?” you called out. “yeah? what is it?” he replied. “why are you giving me flowers today? you didn’t do anything wrong… right?” you hesitate to ask. he looked at you blankly, and then lightly laughed at your question. “really? you think i got you flowers because i did something wrong? i would just tell you straight up if i did. i got the flowers for you because you seemed down lately. you sigh in relief. “sorry, i shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.” you laugh it off. “it’s okay. how are you doing now?” he asked. “i’m doing better now, school’s just been stressful that’s all. thank you for the flowers! i shouldve thanked you properly before.” you say. “that’s good to hear, take care of yourself and take breaks when you need it, okay?” he reminded. “yeah, i will don’t worry!” you reassured.

[emmyrosee]

Since I don't know Chifuyu that well - would he be freaked out by weird period cravings? I like to eat sweet with savory so eating really intensely flavored cheese with jam is an absolute must... or having pickled herring as well as chocolate mousse for breakfast... what do you think he'd do if he woke up to you eating that?

Omg chifuyu my beloved-

Okay so. There’s nothing you could do to, or around this man to make him be weirded out by you. There is no craving, no hobby, no bodily function that could drive him away from you.

And if he comes into the kitchen in the morning and sees you chowing down on chocolate mousse with Doritos dipped in it, pickled herring right next to it and lemonade in a cup for sipping, he merely smiles, presses a kiss to your head and asks you how you’re feeling.

“Hey baby,” he whispers, voice raspy from the morning. “How’s the grub?”

“Shoooooo good,” you hum, voice muffled from your cheeks being filled.

Hes extremely open to getting you your late night cravings, more than down to take you anywhere and everywhere to satisfy you’re cravings. You literally go through this every month- the LEAST he could do is get you gummy worms and iced coffee when you ask

But these open thoughts slowly come to a halt when you ask him to try your period craving foods.

You grab him by the wrist and guide him to the kitchen, and he feels his heart spike. He winces as you plop him in front of the counter, rubbing your hands together and presenting him with a grilled cheese with frosted corn flakes and Cheetos on it.

“Uh…”

“Baby, it’s so good,” you assure, blinking up at him. “Like, the smell alone is making my mouth water.”

“So why don’t you eat-“

“Okay,” you interrupt, grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite. Your eyes close happily at the taste, and you hum in delight, while Chifuyu’s eyes merely widen in surprised. He’d… honestly thought you were joking. “Here,” you say, one hand covering your mouthful of food, the other passing him the sandwich. “Just try it, baby.”

He chuckles and takes the sandwich from you, “you’re uh… real creative with the food combos, aren’t you?” You smile and nod, and he sighs as he takes a bite.

The assortment of textures is more than plenty to put fear back into him- between the sweetness of the corn flake and the crunch of a Cheeto, his teeth come down, and he pauses.

You laugh.

You’re cruel.

He decides to finish chomping down on his bite, trying to ignore the taste and focus on making you happy. Hands toss down the sandwich before bracing himself against the countertop.

Cheese and corn flake will haunt his dreams tonight, but that’s another situation for a different time.

For now, you’re watching with excited eyes as he manages to swallow the bite of sandwich, wincing softly before shuddering. He clears his throat, “that’s… a lot of textures.”

You press a kiss to his cheek, “you’re such a good sport,” you assure, only to then take a small, playful bite of his cheek.

He snickers, “hey. No eating the husband.”

“But you’re soooo yummy,” you tease.

He tosses an arm around you, “I know, but I can’t be having to explain the bite marks to the boys again.”

You pout. He looks you up and down.

“Okay,” he surrenders. “Maybe a few bites.”

[atarathegreat]

I'm Naked Here. Ken Ryuguji

Draken had been busy for a while. Day after day after day it was like he always had something that he had to do. Visiting his friends, helping Mitsuya, and then there was that whole month that he was gone while Mikey was racing. Now that he was home he was still busy catching up on things that needed fixed around the house, helping Shinichiro at S.S Motors, looking over literally everything else but you.

You were pissed.

Even now he was out in the garage, looking over his own bike with the intent of going for a ride to make sure it was fully fixed. Kenny had been out there all day, covered in grease and sweat while only coming in for water and a small snack.

"Kenny?" You wandered in with a glass of water for him, "How's it coming along?"

"Not great," He grabbed the glass and took a quick sip, "a few things are still broken and I need to replace the seat. The damn leather has been ruined 'cause I can't get out here to take care of her."

There wasn't much you could do but stand next to him as he tinkered. You didn't know much about the motorcycle, much less on how to fix it. What you did know, however, was that Kenny was dense. Here you were, next to him and talking to him, naked as the day you were born.

"Do you think I could show you how to take care of the leather for when I'm gone?" He asked, reaching for a tool before going back to the bike, "Replacing the seat is going to be expensive and I can't keep doing it every time I get home."

"I'll try." You nodded.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You continued to sit and talk to him, handing him tools and waiting for him to notice you. Usually he was very attentive, so this was a little funny to you. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he wasn't even looking at you.

"What's so- Holy shit..." Ken looked up after gods know how long. His dark eyes trailed all over your body, landing on your chest and hips and-

Kenny stood quickly and nearly slammed you into the work bench behind you, "Fuck...I really have been gone too long if I hadn't noticed this." He rubbed his developing hard on up against your leg, groaning at the feeling of it. "I hope your plan was to get fucked." Draken slipped from the pants he wore and rubbed his tip through your folds, "I'm not-I don't think I can be gentle."

The way you giggled shot straight to his cock, making his tip swell a little more. You knew he wouldn't be gentle, not with his physique and strength, but that didn't bother you. Something about the way he sounded when he had complete control over the situation drove not only him crazy, but you. He was an animalistic man, driven by pure need and primal instinct.

"The hell are you thinkin' anyway? Comin' out here in nothing but your skin?" Draken tapped your clit harshly to make you hiss, "We have neighbors. What if I had the door wide open?"

You shook your head at him, "You close the door at nine pm sharp."

"Smart girl thought ahead, hm? Thinks that makes it better?" Kenny whispered in your ear, fixing the way you were sat on the workbench. Comfortability was his main concern when he made you cream. Location was of little consequence when he could feel your muscles tightening around him in pure, pathetic need. Making you cry was his main goal half of the time, the other three percent was seeing how loud he could make you. "Just wanted my attention, didn't you, ya' little minx." Draken pulled your hair to expose your throat to him, "Reminds me of the ladies that raised me, y'know."

Calloused fingers squeezed your jaw, dark eyes bore into yours, "Think you could survive if I left you in the Red Light District, hm? Would this little cunt make it out without bruising?" His deep laugh made you wet, wetter than you had been, at least. "No, not my baby. You'd be destroyed."

Not that he minded. Hell, he'd never even actually leave you in the store, let alone a dangerous part of town. But those big pupils of yours excited him to no end.

"Tongue out." Kenny released your jaw to spit on your tongue and press his finger to it, "Good girl. Swallow." Having you obey him after coming out to the garage bare ass naked was throwing him through a million plans. Gods, the ways he could bend you fucking backwards for his pleasure and you'd take it... It made his cock throb painfully.

"Deep breath." He whispered in your ear. You'd no sooner breathed in when he stretched you, bottoming out with a light growl in your ear. "Fuck... Definitely too long if you're this tight. Fucking choking me, baby."

The workbench creaked its protest as Draken fucked into you. There would be faint bruising from his thighs hitting the tabletop, but that wasn't his concern. You're cries of pleasure and the way you were breaking through the skin on his arms had all his focus. "That's right. Fucking cling to me." His cock was hitting as deep as your body allowed, "Needy girl... All for me, yeah?"

"Kenny!"

"There ya' go. Scream for me." Draken grabbed your throat, "Let the neighbors hear us. Let 'em know you've got a needy little cunt."

"I said, let 'em know." His fingers tightened around your neck.

You held his wrist as he slammed into you, his tip feeling like it was moving your insides around, "Please, Kenny! Need you!"

Awful, squelching, wet noises drew his attention to where he was bullying you, "Fuck yeah, you do. I can hear her talkin' to me. Pretty little cock sleeve, ain't ya?" Draken moved you from the workbench, bending you over his bike seat. "Goddamn... So fuckin' good for me. Hold tight, baby, I ain't gonna be done with you anytime soon."

[firstdivisiongirl]

Hi Bunny here again forgot the characters opps sorry about that now with the number 8 One normal Christmas, that’s all I asked for and character chifuyu

Hi Bunny! Thank you and happy holidays! I had a lot of fun with this one. I had to include cats because it’s Chifuyu lol. It was one of my favorites to write. Please enjoy!

Day 20: Chifuyu x Reader: One Normal Christmas, That’s All I Asked For

Christmas with Chifuyu was far from normal.  Every year, something weird happened.  One year, Baji and Kazutora brought the hamsters from the pet shop to your home and tried to recreate the nativity with them.  Another year, he tried cooking a ham but it took till midnight for it to finish cooking thanks to him not turning on the oven.  But this year he promised you it’d be a normal Christmas.

You walked into your apartment to the weirdest thing.  There were at least 7 kittens dressed in little elf costumes.  Chifuyu was sitting on the floor playing with one of them when Baji walked into the room.  “Mr and Mrs Santa Paws are ready to go,” he declared, carrying in two black kittens wearing Santa and Mrs. Claus outfits.

You don’t even know what to say.  You saw weird before, but this was a new level of weird.  Then you heard a knock on the door.  When you opened it up and saw Kazutora holding a box of more kittens dressed as reindeer.  You turned around and looked at Chifuyu.  “One normal Christmas, that’s all I asked for,” you said looking around at the chaos.

Chifuyu laughed, “but this is normal.  It’s our kind of normal.”  You sighed, he wasn’t wrong.  This was your type of normal.  And to be honest, no matter how weird Christmas was, you love Chifuyu and his craziness.

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

[sultrybaby]

Born To Die (Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano)

Bonten Mikey x fem!Reader

Warnings 🦢: suggestive at times, brief mentions of violence, guns, etc. Angst (kind of) - I recommend listening to the actual song by Lana or searching up the lyrics to get an idea of the kind of angst I'm talking about, occasional profanity, ambivalent ending <3 *all images and banner from pinterest / online. i don't own any of it*

Synopsis 🦢: You were sent to seduce and destroy him—the infamous head of Bonten, Manjiro Sano, the man standing in the way of everything your organization, the Echelon, has built. The plan was simple: make him fall, make him talk, and when the time comes—make him die. But somewhere between hands that shouldn’t linger and kisses that taste like cigarettes and blood—the line between deception and desire begins to blur. Now, with the truth unraveling and the noose tightening around both your necks, there is only one way this can end.

Do we control our destinies in love, or are we simply acting out a predetermined tragedy?

The bar is half-lit and half-forgotten, a ruin tucked between crumbling brick and the ghosts of crime syndicates that have long since met their downfall. The walls hold old secrets, stained with whiskey spills and the kind of violence no one cleans up.

The air is thick—leather, cologne, the bite of cheap scotch, the sharper bite of expensive gin. In the far corner, a piano plays something slow and aching. The bartender doesn’t look up—he’s seen too much to care. The lights are low. Too low. Shadows stretch in ways they shouldn’t.

To any and all that have the misfortune of being there, one thing is clear- this isn’t a place for love.

The moment you walk in, the bar stops breathing.

Not because of the man beside you—though he is a presence in himself, all broad shoulders and heavy silence, a man who has killed enough to no longer be impressed by death.

But because of you.

The red dress, silk that moves like sin, the slit running dangerously high—an invitation or a threat, depending on who's looking.

The white fur coat, draped lazily over your shoulders—a symbol of something too pure for this place, too delicate. A lie.

He looks at you and sees glimpses of a pretty face behind a desk, serving coffee and filing paperwork for a man far more dangerous than her. But Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano has bigger issues at hand. Bonten, his empire, is crumbling, and your boss' is taking over.

Your boss doesn’t make introductions.

He doesn’t need to.

His reputation does it for him. A man built like war, voice like gravel, hands large enough to crush empires and innocents.

Mikey Sano later finds out that you are the boss' secretary (who is also proficient in the law, no doubt contributing to the organization's rapid success). However, it is clear regardless of how impressive you may be that you are here merely to serve.

He studies you like a puzzle, like something that doesn’t quite fit—like a face in a dream he can’t remember. He looks at you and despite the gold and glam, sees a bystander, someone caught in the crossfire. Maybe he can save you from this world.

Mikey's thoughts are interrupted as the man across gruffly clears his throat. He finds himself enamoured by the way you do anything and everything. You move without needing to be told. The leather folder is already in your hands. Thick. Heavy. The weight of empires shifting. You obediently place it in front of him—the man across the table, the man with the sharp eyes and the sharper mind, the one who Mikey needs to push down from his throne.

And to his irritation, the one who hasn’t stopped watching you since you walked in.

They talk business, and he's wondering if you hear the way his voice lingers when he says your name. The way his fingers tighten around his glass when your pretty lips part just so and he wonders how they would feel when…nevermind that.

The boss' fingers brush the edge of the folder. Your fingers brush his. A second too long. A second too much.

And then—you lean in.

Close. Closer than necessary.

Your voice is a breath against your boss’s ear, soft, obedient.

"The docks will be cleared by midnight."

Your hand lingers on the table.

"They won’t see it coming."

Your lashes lower, your lips part, just enough to make it look unintentional.

And when you pull away—

You don’t miss the way he exhales just a little too sharp.

Mikey's hand tightens around his glass. His jaw twitches.

His breath comes a fraction too slow, then too fast.

He doesn’t like this.

He doesn’t like the way you moved like silk and smoke.

He doesn’t like the way your boss didn’t have to say your name for you to act, like you’ve done this a thousand times before, like you’ll do it a thousand times again.

He doesn’t like that you are so perfectly trained, so perfectly placed but not for him, for some other guy.

And worst of all—

He doesn’t like that he wants you anyway.

But the worst is yet to come.

You straighten, smooth the fur coat over your shoulders, tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear with deliberate grace.

Your boss, satisfied, leans back in his chair. His hand finds your thigh—casual, absentminded, a touch that means ownership, not affection.

And then—

He pulls you onto his lap.

And that’s when Mikey feels it. The shift. The undoing.

He knows what this is.

A message.

A reminder.

A warning.

The rival boss doesn’t even look at him as he runs one slow, deliberate hand down the curve of your thigh.

"Sign the papers," he says, bored, careless. "Or do you need more convincing?"

Silence.

For just a second.

Then—

Mikey laughs.

Soft. Low. Sharp.

He tilts his head, lips pulling into something dangerous and amused, but not kind.

"Does this bother you?" your boss asks, and you can feel the sneer as he breathes against your neck. But you can't help but stare at the silver-haired maniac.

His fingers tap against the folder. Slow. Calculating.

"Not at all."

But you see it.

The tension in his shoulders. The barely concealed twitch of his jaw. The way his gaze flickers—not to your boss, but to you. And in that moment—you know.

You’ve won.

Because the game has already started. Because the trap is already set. Because he wants you.

And soon enough, he won’t care what it costs him.

Without even bothering to see whether Mikey has signed, the boss gently but firmly places you back on the sofa, and then leaves. The confidence of a madman that has gotten everything he wanted.

He doesn't know what overcame him, but Manjiro finds his legs moving beyond his control. And suddenly, he's talking to you.

"I feel like you shouldn’t be here, angel," he says, voice low, dark.

But he doesn’t mean it. Not really.

Because he’s already leaning in.

Because he already wants you.

The whiskey burns. The ice is melting. His gaze is a slow drag of a cigarette down your skin.

You've seen this a million times, the gaze of a man in power who believes you're the helpless Ophelia, caught in a game played by men, bound to be hung by ropes pulled beyond your control.

Let him see what he wants to see. Let him think you’re something soft, something delicate, something caught in the teeth of men sharper than you.

As if the city outside isn't a labyrinth you built, brick by brick. As if he isn't fighting a war you started.

He didn't know that you were the mastermind behind 'Echelon.'

You knew what the people said: "I heard Echelon was created by serial killers who escaped prison" "I've heard it was the boss' cold cunning that got them to these heights" "I've heard…"

Idiots. All of them.

Yet, when he leans in close—when the smoke curls between you, when his breath teasingly warms your cheek, only to then pull your hands to his lips—you wonder.

What would it be like to be the girl he thinks you are?

Just for a night. Just for the taste of something pure.

But then the moment passes. The whiskey is gone. The war presses against the walls. Your boss is waiting outside. You get up.

You smile at him and bow.

"Pleasure doing business with you." You say formally- too formally, for Mikey. Despite his will that throngs against his heart, all he seems to be able to do is watch pathetically as your beautiful frame exits the bar.

Who the fuck are you?

"Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, let’s go get high. The road is long, we carry on. Try to have fun in the meantime."

You weren’t supposed to be here.

Not in his bed, not in his arms, not in this mess of heat and hunger that coils tight around your ribs. Not kissing him back when there’s nothing left for him to tell you.

This was about nothing more than winning. Echelon wins, they don’t feel, they don't sympathize, they don't love.

This is only about winning- never wanting.

About playing the part so well that he never saw the knife in your hand. About drawing him in, unraveling him, pressing close enough to hear the things no one else was meant to hear.

And you had him. You had him. The information you needed, the secrets he should never have whispered against your skin—it’s all yours now. He’s reckless with his secrets. He spills them like whiskey, like blood on pavement. And you drink it in, every word, every doubt.

You listened to him as he talked of paranoia, of a life of suffering, of loss. You caressed his head as he cried for every one he's lost. You learned of Izana, of Emma, of Shinichiro. That was part of the plan- you had already known all of that.

What wasn't part of the plan was the aching in your heart.

A storm snarls against the rooftops, rain clawing down the glass of his penthouse windows. He kisses you in the dark, mouth searing, hands desperate—like if he holds on tight enough, he can carve something permanent into you.

You let him.

You let him trace every inch of you, let him whisper secrets against your collarbone, let him believe he is the only one who sees you as you are.

And maybe he is.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because every night you spend tangled in him, his empire shrinks. Because every time you whisper his name, his enemies grow stronger. Because every time he touches you, you carve another crack in his foundation.

And yet—

There’s a moment, just before dawn, when the city is nothing but cold emptiness, when his arm is draped over your waist and his breath is warm on your skin, and you wish you had met him in another life.

One where your hands weren’t already stained red.

One where your lips weren’t pressed to his throat, whispering the things that would ruin him.

But this isn’t that life.

You were never supposed to wake up worrying about whether he's killed himself. You were never supposed to miss the warmth of his body when you woke up in an empty bed- in fact, you were the one who was supposed to leave.

And yet—

You’re still here. Still breathless beneath him, still chasing the taste of his mouth, still lost in the way his hands know exactly where to hold you.

The line was supposed to be clear.

But somewhere between the first stolen glance and the second glass of wine, between the nights spent talking in the dark and the mornings spent wrapped in sheets you were never meant to wake up in—

The line blurred.

And now—now it terrifies you.

Because you’ve seen what happens to those who forget which side they stand on. Because desire is dangerous. Desire makes men weak- you know that better than anyone.

And if you aren’t careful—You might not be able to kill him.

And that was never supposed to be a possibility.

Not for you. Not for him.

But the worst part?

You don’t know if you want to save him, or if you just want to burn with him.

Maybe in another life, Manjiro Sano was a man that didn't know the feeling of killing a man with his eyes closed, and you were a woman who didn't go to bed with the test of gunpowder on her tongue.

A woman who didn’t already know how this story ends.

But despite the odds, despite the futility of this life, you let him love you.

You let him trust you- this man that has lived in a world of mistrust and betrayal, who has never known what it is like to hold someone close to his heart. You let him trust you as you hold that knife behind your back. And the longer he kisses you, the harder you press it until it is your blood that spills to the ground built on stolen money and the sins of a billion men.

Oh god,

Manjiro is going to fuck you up.

"Choose your last words, this is the last time."

You have to do this.

If you don’t—if you hesitate, if you let the weight of his hands, his mouth, his voice linger for even a second longer—you never will.

You’ve seen it happen before.

People who think they can balance on the edge of the blade, who think they can hold love in one hand and a knife in the other. But sooner or later, they always drop one.

And it’s never the knife.

So you tell yourself—it ends tonight. You will meet him.

You will press close, like always. You will kiss him slow, kiss him deep, kiss him like nothing is wrong. Even when your heart bleeds. Even when the tears threaten to fall and burn his skin like acid.

And when he least expects it—when his guard is down, when his breath hitches just so, You will do it. You will finish what you started.

You will walk away.

And this time, you won’t look back.

It was a plan that has been hanging in your heart for the longest time now, but then something shifts, and you know you have to kill him.

Because as you sit there, gripping the phone tighter than you should, your heart hammers with something far worse than guilt.

It’s suspicion.

It’s the slow, sinking realization that something isn’t right.

Because you start noticing things. Small things. But in this world of crime and punishment, small things are always the loudest.

The way his men look at you now. Not with curiosity, not with lust, but with something colder. Calculating. Like they know something you don’t. The way he holds you lately. Tighter. Longer. Like a man saying goodbye before he’s ready to let go. The way his words weigh more. Each one careful. Measured.

As if he’s waiting for you to notice.

And then—the final crack.

A single misstep, a single breath too sharp, a single pause before he answered something simple.

And you know.

He knows. Maybe not all of it, not yet, but enough to be dangerous.

You press the phone to your ear, trying to steady your breathing.

“We need to talk, jiro”

A beat of silence.

Then his voice, calm. Too calm.

“Yeah,” he says. “We do.”

--

It’s raining. Of course it is.

You knew this moment would come.

The moment his eyes go sharp, his voice drops low. The moment he looks at you and doesn’t see the girl he kissed in the rain—only the shadow of the woman who ruined him.

"Go on," he says, quiet, patient, waiting for the final betrayal to fall from your lips.

"Tell me."

And that’s when it hits you—

He isn’t angry.

Not yet.

No, the way he’s looking at you now—it’s worse than anger.

It’s acceptance.

Like he knew this was how it would end. Like he saw this coming long before you did. Like he was just waiting for you to catch up. Manjiro Sano never knew what it was like to trust someone- you knew this. You were the fool.

"It was you," he breathes.

The Echelon inside you screams: Hold his gaze. Don’t flinch. Don’t break.

Don’t let him see the part of you that wishes it wasn’t true.

"You used me," he says. The words land like gunfire.

The truth is this: You didn’t have to.

He handed himself over willingly. Laid his empire at your feet, kissed you like a man praying for mercy.

And you took it. You took it all.

But he doesn’t understand that you never meant for him to drown. He doesn’t see the way your fingers tremble at your sides. He doesn’t hear the way your breath shudders under the weight of his silence. He steps forward.

You could lie. You could tell him it wasn’t your fault, that you were caught in the tide, that you had no choice. But you don’t. Because despite everything he deserves the truth.

You step closer. Lift a hand to his cheek. Let your fingers trail down to where his pulse beats—fast, too fast.

"You knew?" you ask, and your voice doesn’t sound like yours.

He exhales, a slow drag of smoke, before flicking the cigarette to the ground. He crushes it beneath his heel.

"I knew."

A simple answer. A final answer.

You want to ask how long. You want to ask what gave you away.

You want to ask if he ever really wanted you, or if he was always just waiting for the knife.

But none of that matters anymore.

What matters is that this should be easy.

You’ve done this before. You’ve walked into rooms and left men bleeding in their own shadows. You’ve whispered secrets and stolen breaths, then pulled the trigger without a second thought. Bullet after bullet after bullet. The lifeless trail of blood leaking down the heel of your stiletto never meant anything to you.

So why won’t you move?

Why do your fingers tremble when you reach for the weapon?

Why does your heart feel too loud, too alive, too much?

Why does it feel like killing Manjiro would be the same as killing yourself?

"‘Cause you and I, we were born to die."

A moment stretches between you.

His gun is heavy at his hip. Yours is closer, safety off, heartbeat ticking in your palm.

Somewhere, far below, a city hums. Neon flickers. Cars pass. People go on living.

But not you.

You are trapped in this moment. A breath away from an ending neither of you want, but both of you deserve.

Maybe he walks away. Maybe you do.

Maybe one of you pulls the trigger, and the other never breathes again.

You were always meant to destroy each other. Because love was never enough.

"Say it," he murmurs, stepping closer.

Not a demand. A plea.

"Say it, baby, and I’ll believe you."

And you know what he’s asking. Lie to me, just one more time.

Tell me you never wanted this. Tell me I was nothing. Tell me it was all a game.

If you do, maybe he’ll let you go. Maybe he’ll walk away.

Maybe he’ll make this easier.

But you can’t.

Because for the first time in your life, the lie won’t come.

And Mikey sees it.

His breath shudders. His lips part, like he wants to say something else. Something cruel, something final, something that will sever the last thread holding you together.

But in the end—

He just shakes his head.

And he steps back.

The silence between you is thick, suffocating. The rain doesn’t stop. It hammers down in sheets, running in rivers down your skin, slicking your hair to your face. It tastes like iron.

You don’t remember reaching for the gun.

Maybe you always knew it would come to this. Maybe that was the truth neither of you ever dared to say out loud, that you were always meant to be each other’s end.

And then—

A flash of silver in the dark.

Both of you move at the same time.

Two guns raised. Two fingers on two triggers.

Two hearts that beat only for the other.

You don’t know if it’s the water or the agony, but there are tears in his eyes. Or maybe they’re in yours. Neither of you blinks or breathes.

He’s looking at you, not like an enemy, not like a mistake but like something he was never supposed to love—but loved anyway.

Like something he was willing to die for.

And you know he sees it in you, too.

Because in this moment, Sano Manjiro is not just a man, and you are not just a weapon.

You are two people who walked too far into the dark and found each other there. Two people who never learnt how to feel, feeling something to depths they did not know how to crawl out of, now standing here with no way out.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough, and the road gets tough

I don't know why

Keep making me laugh, let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on, try to have fun in the mean time

Come and take a walk on the wild side, let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain- you like your girls insane.

Choose your last words, this is the last time

Cuz you and I,

We were born to die. - 'Born to Die,' Lana Del Ray.

[y-umiko]

TOKYOREV BOYS WHEN THEY WANT TO BREAK-UP TO PROTECT YOU

CHARACTER(S): Kazutora . Hanma . Baji WARNING/S: angst? A/N: Please don't be surprised if the writing seems different as it goes on, I wrote each one when i'm in different moods.

Kazutora

Kazutora watches with gritted teeth as the nurse patches you up after being rushed to the hospital. It was nothing serious just some cuts and bruises, but Kazutora can't be relieved, imagining the worse that could happen if didn't arrive in time.

He thought long and hard about it, being with him had made you a target for others. and if separating from you means your safety then he was willing to do it.

but you were having none of it, all it took was to see the dreaded expression on his face to know what was running on his head. after thanking the nurse, you sternly gave him your piece of mind.

"whatever it is that's running on your head, quit it" his eyes previously downcasted and staring at the floor, flickering towards you, "I haven't said anything yet"

"It's written all over your face" you sigh, watching his eyes drift away from yours. Kazutora felt incredibly guilty that he can't bear to look at your eyes.

he had done a lot of bad things in his life, maybe this was his punishment, maybe this was his karma, if it is, he doesn't want you getting the same burden, and maybe he was right.

"Maybe it's for the better that we - "

"No" you quickly cut him off, reaching over to hold his hand, which was incredibly warm, "Listen to me, This is not your fault alright? so don't go having any thought in that pretty head of yours"

Kazutora simply stared back at you, content with your hold on his hand. wondering that maybe he wasn't so bad in his previous life to be rewarded as precious as you.

he was brought back when he felt you squeeze his hand, "are we clear?"

"…yeah" he mumbled, gently leaning towards you and nuzzling his head on your shoulder, this time he'll protect you properly.

Hanma

Hanma knows nothing good comes out of being associated with him. but he was being greedy wanting to have you in his life, he thought he can protect you but how wrong he was.

and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to be selfish, for your sake and his peace of mind.

"so that's it, see you around" he casually bid goodbye, hands stuffed in his pocket, after explaining to you he's breaking up with you 'just because he felt like it'. if it was a normal day it would have hurt you, but you knew him too damn much to know he felt guilty for what happened.

"wait a damn fucking minute" you called after him but Hanma pretended not to hear you and continued walking out of your hospital room. but you were quick to your feet, getting out the bed and dragging the bag of IV with you to catch up with him.

"you can't just come here, say what you want and leave" Hanma momentarily stops in his tracks, an internal turmoil inside his head, a slight worry in his eyes seeing you get out of bed. but if his gonna do it, he has to stay strong, as he continued his way out, "I have nothing left to say"

"Well, I do and you better fucking listen" you voice out loudly than intended, making Hanma sigh as he stops in his tracks once again to give you another piece of his mind and say words he didn't mean but will hurt you so bad that you'll probably stay away from him for good.

"you're serious-"

however, all those words got eaten and forgotten as you came tackling him, arms tightly wrapped around him, and head buried on his chest.

"Don't leave me…please" you coaxed, voice calm and gentle but Hanma can feel the tremors coming from your body. if it was fear of him leaving or fear of the accident. he doesn't care, all he knew was you needed him and that someone has to pay.

"you're a pain in the ass"

As his reasons crumble the bastards who did this to you can enjoy the last hours of their life. meanwhile, he wanted to be a little bit more selfish, as long as you want him, he'll stay with you.

Baji

When Baji came to see you with bruises and some remnants of blood, you immediately knew what had transpired before him seeing you in the hospital.

Baji just can't seat around, he just had to let out his contained rage upon seeing you all bloodied and bruised because of him. and amid the chaos of exchanging fists, he had a thought. his life had always been full of danger and will probably be more dangerous as the Tokyo Manji Gag expands.

he was sure enemies would come swarming towards him and normally that would have thrilled him. but after some careful thought, he wasn't alone anymore, the more enemies he made the more dangerous it become for you and he can only think of one thing to do.

"we should break up"

he coldly said, quick and direct he thought, hands on his side, a glare in his eyes as he stared at you. if there's one thing Baji was good at, it was his acting skills. and if you were anyone else, you would have believed him, luckily, you weren't just anyone.

"I don't understand? why?" you calmly replied, but your eyebrows were furrowed. while Baji remained a certain distance from you. it should be easy he thought, just like he practiced on his head countless times.

"I don't like you anymore"

words he thought would be enough to drive you away yet Baji swore you look calm than he thought you would be.

"then look me in the eyes and tell me you mean it" you sternly replied, and he did so with full confidence but as he searched your eyes, desperately looking for anything that will let him repeat his words, all he found was your eyes fill with unconditional love, eyes that had seen his worse and beauty. nothing came out of his mouth, words stuck on his lips.

"dammit y/n! don't make this anymore harder than it is!"

"then stop it!" you burst out before calming yourself. "I know what I'm getting when I agreed to go out with you, I wouldn't even lie, it was scary, but this is not enough to the point that it will make me leave you, you're stuck with me until the end"

"Besides I have full confidence that you would save me every time"

a rush of warmth spread on Baji's chest, he should deny it, he should continue his act and walk away yet his feet moved towards you as if having a mind of their own. would it be selfish to continue wanting to be with you despite putting you in danger.?

[angelicnymph]

ᰔᩚRECOMMENDATIONSᰔᩚ (2)

🧁Masterlist🧁 | 💌Support Me💌

Note: I do NOT own any of these works. It is NOT my masterlist. Its works of other writers that I deeply adored.

Please do check MY works as well. TAP on 🧁MASTERLIST🧁 above. (Recommendation list part1)

🦋-Smut

🧸-Fluff

🎀-Personal favorite

જ⁀➴Suguru Geto ᰔᩚ

Manspreading Suguru 🦋🧸

Slutty boyfriend and girlfriend 🦋

Streamer Suguru Geto🦋

Soft dom Suguru🦋

Your biggest fan 🦋

Mean!Suguru x Bratty!Reader 🦋

Plaid Pajamas 🦋🧸

Kisses 🧸

Boy next door Suguru 🧸

First time (creampie) 🦋

Boss!Geto 🦋🧸

Mornings 🦋🎀

ShyBunny!reader 🧸🦋

Pillowtalks 🦋🧸

Fucking you while on call ft. GOJO 🦋

Geto and his pink gf 🦋🧸

Racer Suguru 🦋

Baby Fever 🦋🧸

His last moments 🧸

Childhood picture 🧸

Alpha!Geto 🎀🦋🧸

Halloween party with Suguru- College Au (3) [other editions in rec list 1] 🎀🧸🦋

Corpse Groom Gojo 🎀🧸🦋

Suguru eating pussy 🦋

Obsessed geto 🧸🦋

Kissing practice 🦋🧸

Ghostface Suguru [4] 🦋🧸

જ⁀➴Gojo Satoru ᰔᩚ

Big Dick Satoru (2)🦋

Otaku Satoru 🦋

Madam Gojo (2) 🦋🎀

Aphrodisiac chocolate 🦋

Gojo jerking off (2) (3) 🦋

Overstimulating you 🦋

Loser to a munch 🦋🎀

Gooner!gf 🦋🎀

Back to the roots 🦋

Gojo using your own toys on you 🦋

Vampire!Satoru 🧸🦋🎀

Vampire!Gojo 🧸🦋

Incubus!Gojo 🦋🎀

Girldad!Gojo 🎀🧸

Clingy Gojo ( 2 ) 🎀🧸🦋

Animals 🧸🦋

જ⁀➴Sukuna Ryomen ᰔᩚ

Incubus King Sukuna 🦋

જ⁀➴Kamo Choso ᰔᩚ

Ghostface choso 🦋

જ⁀➴Baji Keisuke ᰔᩚ

Marking 🧸

જ⁀➴Illumi Zoldyck ᰔᩚ

Captive 🎀🦋🧸

Illumi HC 🦋🧸

જ⁀➴Multiple JJK Menᰔᩚ

TEASING JJK MEN 🦋

Glory hole 🦋

Boyfriend taming you 🦋

Finding weak spots 🦋🧸

Cock warming 🦋

Pomegranates ft. TOJI X SUKUNA 🦋🧸

Aphrodisiac 🦋

Cool uncles 🧸

Dollhouse 🦋

Older boyfriend 🦋🧸🎀

Ghostface 🦋🎀

જ⁀➴Multiple Fandomᰔᩚ

Princess in public Whore in private 🧸🦋

Morning after 🧸🦋

JJK men in a band --

Mafia boss boyfriend HC 🧸

Rainy days 🦋

"Slut me out" 🦋

Period comfort 🧸

Getting pleasure 🦋

[beeing1alive]

Tr boys first time seeing reader in fitted clothes (because reader always wears hoodie or oversized shirts)

Note: I really hope you like this post, thanks for the sweet request

Mikey:

When he came through the door, he stood in the doorway for a minute and looked at you. You were just standing in front of the mirror, worried about whether this might all be a stupid idea after all. He saw your worried look on your face, so or came over to you and admired you from head to toe. "Wow… you look… Beautiful. Really, I don't understand why you rarely wear tight clothes, I think it really suits you.", he said lovingly while giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Draken:

He had just come out of the bathroom when he saw you in your new clothes in front of the mirror. When he saw what you were wearing, he let out a soft gasp. "You look perfect, Honey. I think you really should wear tight-fitting clothes more often." He looks at you for a few more seconds until he picks out his own clothes for the day, but you can clearly recognise how his gaze secretly wanders to you again and again He tried not to, but he just can't help himself around you

Mitsuya:

He had already sewn a slightly tighter-fitting dress some time ago, but accepted that you were uncomfortable in tight clothing. Seeing you now, at home, in this dress, trying it on of your own volition to see if it would look good after all. He taps on the doorframe to let you know he's there, strolls across the room towards you and hugs you from behind. "I was so sure you'd look stunning in that dress and, how can I put it? I was 100% right," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, occasionally placing kisses on your neck.

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

[izanacore]

stuck with u | ran haitani x reader

one-shot 𓂃⋆.˚

synopsis: when y/n gets stuck under the bed, she calls ran for help—only to end up in a situation far more compromising. ran, ever the opportunist, doesn’t hold back, turning a simple favor into something much more sinful.

characters: ran haitani, fem!reader, rindou haitani

warnings: smut (18+), stuckage, coercion, non-consensual sex (non-con), dubious consent (dub-con), manipulation, rough sex, breeding, baby trapping, unprotected sex, filming without consent, humiliation, degradation, objectification, slapping, spitting, cum play, infidelity, voyeurism, gaslighting

notes: bonten ran haitani. dark content—so there are themes that might be uncomfortable to read. please read at your own risk. mdni.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

rindou brought y/n home, pushing the door open without much thought. he assumed no one was around—until he spotted ran lounging on the couch, staring straight at them.

they had been kissing.

y/n immediately stiffened, and rindou awkwardly cleared his throat before nodding at his brother. “yo.”

ran raised a brow but said nothing, watching as rindou grabbed y/n’s wrist and led her upstairs to his room.

“just stay here. i’m gonna go grab us some food outside for dinner.”

y/n nodded obediently. “okay.”

with that, rindou kissed y/n on the forehead and left.

a few minutes passed. then a few more.

y/n was already getting bored when her phone lit up with a message.

rindou: something came up. i’ll be home later than expected.

y/n: alright, baby. be safe.

she sighed, tossing her phone aside. a few hours of waiting, and now she was really bored. deciding she might as well nap, she reached up to remove her jewelry, setting each piece down—until one of her earrings slipped from her fingers and rolled under the bed.

y/n froze.

shit.

that was rindou’s gift to her. she could not lose it.

without hesitation, she got down on the floor, reaching for it. it was far—just barely out of reach. y/n stretched her arm further, fingers grazing the small piece before she finally grabbed it.

“yes!” she whispered in triumph.

but as she tried to pull herself back, she realized something.

she wasn’t moving.

her hips were stuck.

y/n blinked. then, she tried again, wiggling her body. nothing.

“…fuck,” she muttered.

“rindou!” she called. “help!!”

silence.

then she remembered—he had gone out.

she groaned, dropping her forehead against the floor. there was no way she was staying like this until later. as humiliating as this was, she only had one option left.

“…ran!?”

nothing.

she tried again, louder. “ran! can you help me, please?!”

no answer.

y/n squeezed her eyes shut before shouting, “ran, please! i’m stuck in here, can you help me out?!”

finally, she heard the door creak open.

ran’s voice came from behind her, flat and unimpressed. “what is it this time?”

but the second his eyes landed on her, his expression changed.

his brows shot up, gaze locking onto the very obvious problem—y/n’s dress had ridden up, exposing her panties.

y/n, still clueless, sighed in relief. “can you help me out? i’m stuck.”

ran exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “why the hell are you stuck in the first place?”

she heard him moving closer.

y/n groaned, her cheek squished against the floor. “i was looking for my earring, okay? i dropped it earlier, and it rolled under the bed. when i tried to reach for it, i kinda… slid in too far.”

ran hummed, placing a hand on her back. “and then what? your tiny brain didn’t think about backing out before getting stuck?”

“i was backing out!” she snapped. “but my foot got caught on the stupid blanket, and now my hips won’t budge.”

there was a beat of silence.

then, ran snickered.

“…so what you’re saying is—you got your ass stuck?”

y/n’s eye twitched.

“ran, just pull me out already, please.”

ran placed both hands firmly on y/n’s hips, gripping them as he started pulling her out. he tugged hard, trying to free her, but with every pull, her core pressed against his cock—repeatedly.

his jaw clenched.

“stay still.”

y/n obediently stopped moving.

was it weird? she could feel his hands gripping her ass. maybe he was just steadying her or something?

then, without thinking, she shifted her hips slightly.

ran sucked in a breath. “can you relax? i’m trying to get you out of here.”

y/n exhaled, nodding. but something still felt… off. there was a rhythm to it now—the way ran was pulling her, the way her core kept pressing against his lower half. she paid no mind. maybe he really was just trying his best.

then, she felt something else.

her panties were being slid down.

y/n froze.

a strange nervousness crept into her chest. what was happening? but she didn’t question it—it was ran, after all. rindou’s brother. she trusted him.

then—

a warm, wet sensation dripped down her core.

y/n stiffened.

did he just spit—

she swore she heard—

“ran?” she called, voice hesitant. “c-can you just pull me out now?”

“yeah,” he muttered, almost distracted. “just a little more.”

she heard a shift behind her. something was different.

why did it feel cold down there?

“ran??” y/n tried again, this time more nervous.

but her words fell on deaf ears.

because ran—who was supposed to be pulling her out—was now licking her pussy, dragging his tongue up and down, eating her out.

“ran??? what are you doing???”

y/n’s voice was laced with confusion, her body tensing up as she felt something warm and wet glide against her core. she didn’t want to believe it—there was no way ran was actually doing what she thought he was doing.

but the way her body shuddered at the sensation told her otherwise.

“ran, can you help me out now, please?” she tried again, her voice shaking slightly as she attempted to move—only to accidentally press herself closer against his face.

ran groaned, hands tightening around her hips. “shut the fuck up, i’m busy.”

y/n gasped when he groped her ass, fingers digging into her flesh as he spread her apart.

“ran, please, stop…” she whined.

he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.

y/n’s breath hitched. she should be stopping him, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to move. the sensation was too good, it was confusing her. and when she finally opened her mouth to say something, she felt it—she felt something thick and warm pressing against her entrance.

“ran—“ her words died in her throat as he pushed in, stretching her open with ease.

“fuck. your pussy is so fucking tight,” ran groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. “rindou doesn’t fuck you enough, huh?”

skin met skin, the sound of his hips snapping against hers echoing in the room.

“ran, please… rindou might get mad.”

he leaned down, lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “don’t be a killjoy, baby. i’m just starting to have my fun.”

a sharp slap landed on her ass, making her yelp.

“stay still,” he murmured. “wanna give my brother a little souvenir.”

ran took out his phone, tilting it down to capture how his cock disappeared into her core.

“don’t move too much,” he muttered, smirking as another slap landed on her.

y/n gasped at his words, but any protest melted into a moan as ran thrust into her harder, his grip tightening on her hips.

“fuck, ran…” she whimpered, her wet cheek still pressed against the floor. she had been crying at the fact rindou’s brother was using her for pleasure.

ran chuckled, “look at you. moaning my name instead of your boyfriend’s. you like getting fucked by his brother? you really are a slut, huh?”

her walls fluttered around him, and she barely managed a response, too lost in the pleasure.

“ran, too much—please, slow down,” she gasped.

“you don’t get to decide that,” he muttered darkly, snapping his hips harder just to prove his point.

her fingers curled against the floor, her moans getting louder. ran was relentless, fucking her deeper, chasing his own high as her body trembled beneath him.

“ugh, ran, fuck! fuck!” she cried out, back arching as she teetered on the edge.

“that’s it, slut. moan for me,” he growled. “let rindou hear how good i’m fucking you.”

her body tightened, pleasure surging through her veins as she stuttered, “r-ran… ugh—”

his thrusts grew sloppier, more erratic. “i can feel you clenching around me,” he groaned. “you’re cumming, aren’t you?”

y/n didn’t mutter a response. instead, she just cried and moaned—not sure about what she’s feeling as both pain and pleasure coursed all over her body.

ran cursed under his breath, his grip bruising as he pounded into her, chasing his release. her walls squeezed him tight, drawing a deep moan from his lips.

“what a fucking slut,” he muttered, his movements growing rougher, hungrier, as he fucked her through her orgasm, ready to reach his own.

”gonna cum… fuck—your pussy is so good. that’s why my brother is obsessed with you, huh? because of this pretty pussy?”

“too bad. i own it now.”

“ran…” y/n called him out.

“what?!”

“please don’t… cum inside…” y/n begged him, tears streaming down her face.

“don’t tell me what to fucking do,” ran snapped.

and then a few more thrusts.

“shit, ugh…”

ran spilled inside her despite y/n’s desperate pleas to stop him. ran stilled for a few seconds before finally pulling out, still recording the way his release spilled from her, making a mess between her thighs. with a low chuckle, he pushed whatever was dripping back inside, his fingers teasing as he murmured, “can’t waste any, huh? damn, i came too much.”

ran smirked as he stopped the video, snapping a few more pictures of the mess he made—her pussy full of his cum. without a second thought, he sent the pictures and video straight to rindou.

ran: got u a present ;)

rindou: ?

[ran sent a photo]

rindou: tf?

rindou didn’t recognize who was in the photo at first. sure, he and his brother exchanged porn videos and nude pics of girls to jerk off—it wasn’t anything new.

ran: a jerk off material for u tonight

[ran sent a video]

thank god his volume wasn’t on full blast—he was in public.

rindou watched the video, his brows furrowing. then, he noticed it. that dress. y/n was wearing that earlier, right? no. it couldn’t be. ran wouldn’t do that. he was cruel, sure, but not to him.

his hands trembled. his breath came uneven.

he couldn’t believe it. ran just fucked his girlfriend.

rindou: you fucking bastard. i will kill you!!!

ran: no “thank u, bro” ?

rindou: fuck YOU.

but in all honesty, rin couldn’t hide the fact that he got hard by just watching his brother fuck his girlfriend—so he went to the nearest bathroom stall for a release. it’s sick. he knows—but he can’t do anything about it anymore. it already happened. so he’ll just jerk off the frustrations away using the video ran sent to him. after all, that was his present. might as well use it.

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 06: temptation's tangle

preview: ". . . “What’s the occasion?” “Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin. “What? You don’t trust me?” “Exactly, I don’t.” “Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” . ."

content warning: suggestive content, abandonment issues, hanma is a d!ck but what's new.

word count: 5,4k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa @bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

➜ note: yet another chapter woohoo!! this one's a bit exciting for me because we get to see new characters appearing in the reader's life. and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

Saturdays were for resets. You didn’t like to go out that much during the weekends, so it was a hassle to reject your co-worker’s offer to go out for drinks the night after a long week of exhausting and intense work. You would much rather stay inside, go over your to-do list and look around your place to see which area needed the most cleaning. The kitchen was definitely a mess, but your room? Good lord. Your room looked as though a hurricane had passed and devoured it before spitting it out.

No matter how much you tried to be organized, you always found yourself with a mess on the floor, half of your makeup on your vanity and the other half in the bathroom along with a bunch of shoes lined up next to your entrance. You puff out some air as you stand in the middle of your room.

“I really need to get my shit together.” Have you said these words before? Absolutely. 

Will you probably say them again in two weeks? Oh, of course. 

But right now, you need a distraction from what happened two days ago–something that quiets down the voice that keeps nagging you to grab your phone and check if he sent a message, if something had changed. You recognized that you were being a walking contradiction–between promising yourself to be mad at him and loathing him only a week ago, to suddenly wishing he was in your bedroom, pinning you to your mattress and drilling his cock into you–yeah, you were a mess. 

It’s not like you didn’t have a vibrator, or hands! Your hands did an amazing job at fulfilling your needs, you knew where to touch yourself, how to stroke your pussy in a way that had your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. A sigh would then escape your lips, a needy one because nothing felt as amazing as a mindblowing orgasm after teasing yourself for so long. Your hips would then buck up, and your hand is rubbing very messily at your poor clit before you cum with a loud and long moan–

“Shuji–!” 

You snap out of it so fast, jolting up away from your bed and blinking at your reflection in the mirror.

What the fuck? 

A grown ass woman–one who gets action…not that often, but still enough to fulfill her needs, daydreaming about a man whom she slept with once? It doesn’t make sense. Or maybe it does, you're too deep in denial to admit that the person you've been longing for is the same man who shaped parts of your teenage years, even if it was only for a short time.

The heavy sigh that leaves you is so loud that it bounces off the walls of your empty apartment. So vacant, but it reminds you how Hanma’s short yet dominating presence was enough to make it feel…less hollow. You hated how he filled the void that you had been long wanting to replace, whether it be by decorating your space with greenery or going on pottery dates with friends or even getting your cat more toys just to watch him run around the apartment–the loneliness was hard to swallow. You despised the feeling, it gripped you by the throat and forced you to remember the framed pictures sitting on the shelf above the TV. Friends, family, co-workers–you were made of pieces of them, each having given you a memory to cling onto and use it as a lifeline. 

What do you do when that lifeline is barely hanging by a thread?

Your eyes land on the singular picture that rests on your nightstand, and your frown deepens for a moment as realization hits you. The two people in this picture were supposed to stay with you for a long time, your protectors as they liked to call themselves. You purse your lips and inhale deeply. The bitter aftertaste sitting on your tongue is hard to wash down.

You were perfectly fine being shaped by bits of everyone you'd ever met, but weren’t your brothers meant to be there for life?

“Here, keep this on you all the time.” You stare at the shiny knife as your oldest brother places it on your nightstand, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and you’re forced to close your book.

“A knife?”

“Yeah, it’s for your safety.”

“Ran, why would I need to carry a knife with me?” 

“You never know,” you’re not sure if that’s meant to comfort you—probably not. 

Ran Haitani is very proud of the fact that he had adopted you. Technically, his parents did–but he hated them, and they abandoned you a long time ago, so it was he who adopted you. He remembers you being a tiny baby in your mother’s arms the day that she had picked you up from the adoption center, said something about how she was so excited for this new chapter of her life, and both Ran and Rindou were excited–over the moon to be welcoming a little sister. At 6 and 5 years old, they didn’t know what blood related meant– it never mattered to them in the first place even as they got older. You were a Haitani, their precious little sister, and that meant the whole world to them.

However, the bond grew a little bit stronger after your parents left. Your father was the first to abandon the family, you were 5, Ran was 10 and Rindou’s 9th birthday was approaching. You remember it being a cold day–it wasn’t gloomy outside or anything, but as you sat in the middle of the living room with your brothers by your side, the apartment felt a bit bigger, emptier. A child is fragile, anything can affect them if not dealt with properly–the absence of your father was the first time you had to experience your ‘big feelings’ as Ran liked to describe them. You don’t know what holding back tears is, so you cry as you hug your knees to your chest and let Rindou soothe your back with a gentle hand. It’s a small gesture, but enough to anchor your stuttering breaths. 

“It’s okay,” Rindou says as you sniffle. When you look at him, you see that his eyes are glossed over with something–tears. He blinks them away as soon as he catches you staring at him. “It’s not like we need him, right?”

“Of course not,” Ran speaks confidently, standing over you and Rindou with a superhero-like stance. “As long as you’ve got me, nothing will happen to you!”

“And me!” Upon seeing his older brother act like a superhero, Rindou quickly jumps up and stands next to him. It’s adorable, it gives you hope–your little child body, so overwhelmed with emotion and having to deal with the abandonment of a parent temporarily distracted by the two boys standing in front of you.

“I’m Sailor Uranus,” Ran extends one arm outward with his fingers splayed, while his other arm is bent at his side. He shares a look with Rindou, trying to mask his wobbling lips. Rindou averts his gaze, cheeks set ablaze with overwhelming emotion. Sadness, embarrassment mixed with determination to make you, his little sister, feel better even for a few moments. 

“And I’m Sailor Neptune!” Rindou extends his arm forward, with his other hand pointing slightly upward towards you. Your heart swells with emotion, and you bring your arm to your face to wipe your tears.

“I..I’m Sailor Moon!” You join in weakly, and for a moment—(just a small one), everything seems okay. You have your brothers with you, recreating your favorite characters’ pose and trying to cheer you up. Just for a split second, you’re distracted from the ache that invades your heart and spreads all over your chest. 

But distractions are bad. Like a bandage on a leaking dam, offering a false sense of control while the real flood builds behind them. 

You had always looked up to your mother. It’s natural for a child to have an innocent fascination with one particular parent—after your father left, your mother had become everything to you. Now that you look back at it, it was definitely fear of being separated from her. Losing her so unexpectedly like you did with your father. You would sit in the living room waiting for her to come back from work, whilst Ran and Rindou were outside playing and didn’t necessarily mind the absence of their mother. They were older after all, and perhaps were able to see her for who she truly was earlier than you did. 

“She’s not going to come back on time,” Ran announces from behind you. You don’t move, still looking out of the window and waiting for her silhouette to appear. “You have to eat.”

“No,” you don’t mean for your voice to crack, but alas you’re a child and you cannot control your emotions. You wear your heart on your sleeve and the hurt you’re feeling from your mother’s repetitive tardiness is very apparent. “I’m not hungry.”

As if to mock you, your stomach growls the moment you say it. And Ran sighs behind you before approaching you. 

“No–” you push him away when he wraps his hand around your arm. “I won’t eat–!”

“Rindou hasn’t eaten all day,” Ran’s voice is stern. It momentarily distracts you from your stubbornness and your bottom lip starts wobbling. “He doesn’t want to eat without you—so please,” his voice is now barely above a whisper and your eyes meet his own lavender ones. The sob you choke out is raw, painful–you can’t hold it back any longer and you fall forward, attaching yourself onto your older brother. The taller boy holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back as he heaves out a sigh.

No child deserves to go through this. 

A few months later, you get accustomed to seeing your mother less often. By the age of 10, Ran and Rindou had managed to make a name for themselves around the area–the rulers of Roppongi. You choose to ignore the events that led them in juvenile detention, you don’t necessarily associate that with great memories but life feels… simple. 

Whilst Ran brings the food and takes care of anything money related, Rindou is the one who is in tune with your emotional needs. He holds you in his arms when you are sad and caresses your head when you’re upset after a particularly nasty fight with Ran. Rindou reminds you of the importance of the rules that they had given you when they started ruling Roppongi, that the way you dress is very important as a Haitani—their little sister. 

You carried that with you through adulthood.

The walls of your apartment have heard you cry for them, felt your sobs and longing. It’s strange how your apartment only knows of their existence through pictures, like ghosts they've never seen in person. Like hearing the echo of laughter in an empty room—faint and distant, yet it lingers, reminding you of the voices that once filled your childhood. 

You are filled with sadness and melancholy and longing—you feel ready to burst like a heavy rain cloud but somehow, you find the strength to hold it all in whilst darkening everything beneath you. Whilst the past few years have been one of the most important ones in your life, you can't deny that with every person you encountered, the shell guarding your heart grew tougher. Like armor forged over time. 

It’s useless to grieve the past, you can’t let it distract you from the task at hand, so you grab your vacuum cleaner and get to work.

Hopefully you’re done before sunset.

–

Ding dong

The digital clock on your microwave flashes 8:12PM in red, bold colors. You did your usual cleaning, showered and dried your hair, planned an outfit for Monday and were checking on some work you needed to do before the week starts. Who would visit you at this time of the day?

None of your co-workers had texted you all day, and you were hoping that they weren’t here to try to convince you to go out. Saying no to them the first time was hard as it is. 

“Shoooo,” you tell your cat as he races you to the front door. “Go away, you can’t get out,” you mumble to your fur companion as you place him on his cat tree and watch as he digs his claws into the plush fabric before running away to your room. 

Ding–ding ding ding!

“Coming! I’m coming,” you rush to unlock the door, forgetting to check through the peephole. As you open it, you get a whiff of a familiar perfume and a tall figure is standing a little too close to you.

“Wha–”

“I got dinner.” 

Of course it would be him. 

He stands before you in all his glory. Brand new suit, messy hair (he must’ve had a long day) and shoes that definitely looked less shinier than usual. You try not to stare too hard at his body, fight the carnal urge that tells you to keep your eyes a little longer on his thighs and lean against the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin.

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“Exactly, I don’t.”

“Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” you yank him inside your apartment and Hanma almost lets out a giggle at how flustered you looked. “You need to stop saying shit like that in my hallway.”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“People could hear you,” you shoot him a glare as you walk away from him. Hanma doesn’t miss the chance of checking out your ass in your tight booty shorts. He licks his lips and follows right behind you, plastic bags rustling as he places the food on the kitchen counter.

“What did you get anyway?” You ask as you sit back on the kitchen table, nose shoved deep in your laptop as you continue your work. You’re far too focused on the words in front of you to notice that Hanma had quieted down and was now fully staring at you–taking the sight of you and placing it at the forefront of his mind. 

Despite having seen you naked before, Shuji thinks that you look the most attractive like this. Like the adult women that you matured into. He can’t remember the last time he saw you this concentrated—(was it when he snuck into your room as teenagers? He found you sitting at your desk, nose buried in your homework that you didn’t even notice him opening your window after he had climbed your fire escape). He can’t say he doesn’t like it. The smallest details stood out to the same man who claims to be nonchalant about everything else–the slight pout and frown to your lips, eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting across the screen, pausing briefly to take in each and every word. You wear glasses now. 

(And glasses look good on you, they make your nose look cute).

 A sigh escapes your lips and as you inhale, you finally catch his stare. Intense like a spotlight, analyzing your every move and pinning you in place. 

For obvious reasons, you feel tense under the weight of his golden eyes fixed on you. Exposed, stripped of any secrets you hadn’t even dared to write down in your diary. Hanma���s eyes had the effect of unraveling every guarded truth, as if his intense gaze alone could coax confessions from the deepest corners of your soul. 

Like how you touch yourself to the thought of him.

You avert your gaze towards the bag, growing uncomfortable with the suffocating silence.

“So?”

“Ramen.” You almost deadpan at the man. It’s fascinating how he can shift the tension in the room just by spilling out a few words. 

“You bought ramen??”

“Am I not allowed to?” He pushes himself off of the kitchen counter and starts walking towards you.

“When you said I got dinner, I thought you meant a meal,” you take off your glasses and place them on the table before staring at the bag tiredly. “That’s an unhealthy meal, Hanma.”

“That’s what I get for dinner, usually.”

“You’ve got money.”

“Your point?”

“Go to restaurants??” you say in disbelief and Hanma shrugs his shoulders as he stands next to you, enjoying the obvious height difference. One that reminds him of how big his hands looked on your thighs that night. 

“Tooooo much work,” he drags out his words before stretching his arms over his head. The action elicits a yawn out of his lips and you scoff before grabbing the bag and emptying its content on the table. “Besides, what’s so bad about having instant ramen?”

“It’s unhealthy,” you reply flatly, reaching for the electric kettle. You fill it up with water before pressing the ‘on’ button, the action coming to you so quickly and naturally that it makes Hanma raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, you turned it on a little too fast for someone who thinks instant ramen is unhealthy,” 

“Because this is my kitchen?” The reply you give is laced with sarcasm, absolutely done with whatever he has to say and all Hanma does is just stand back and grin. How fun. 

“Right, of course,” you avert your gaze the moment Hanma’s fingers wrap around his tie, loosening it to allow himself to breathe a little–feel comfortable in an apartment that has already welcomed him twice already. Does he remember the layout? Not exactly. However, his brain is able to trace the map from your kitchen to your bedroom like a professional cartographer. The detail was etched in their mind, like a name carved into stone. 

So he makes himself comfortable, he walks past you and into the living room and you watch as he sits on your couch and stares around your decorated space. 

“Is that a cat tree?” he points at the item sitting near the window. 

“Mmmh,” you hum in response, pouring water into the instant ramen cups. “Why?”

“ ‘s just that I’ve never seen your cat,” he looks around, trying to figure out where your fur companion might be. “But I see signs of that fucker everywhere.”

“Don’t call my cat a fucker.” You almost hiss and it catches Hanma off guard. Not that it was the first time you ever spoke to him in that tone, but you must be very attached to your cat. 

“Whew,” he whistles as he raises his arms in the air.. “My bad. Didn’t know you were that kind of person.” 

Your eye twitches. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you pause on your way to the living room, the cups of ramen were starting to burn your hands but you could care less. 

“Y’know, getting all defensive over an animal?”

“You mean have empathy and emotional connection?” 

“Emotional connection with a cat?” Hanma braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. His side profile comes into view, but he quickly turns to face you and he sees the way you were slowly losing your patience. “That shit is for people who are lonely.”

It is eerily silent after that. For a good five seconds, Hanma doesn’t seem to understand why you give no reply nor do you make a move. He looks away, pats his pocket to find his phone and turns to look at you. You are still glued to your spot. 

You hope he doesn't hear the sound of your heart breaking, or notice the way your body instantly deflates. 

“It must be.” Your reply is devoid of any emotion. You look away from Hanma’s intense gaze, suddenly growing uncomfortable under all of the attention he was giving you. As you take a seat on the couch (while maintaining a good distance between you and the tall man), you push Hanma’s cup towards him. 

“Here.”

“Thank you.” 

Hanma doesn’t feel comfortable with the silence. It bothers him that he doesn’t. 

You try not to pay attention to him, but it turns out that it’s a hard task given how huge the man is. He spreads his legs on your couch, leaving you almost no space, so you have to nudge his thigh with your knee. 

“Move, you’re taking up too much space.” You’re still avoiding his gaze, and Hanma’s finger twitches as he reaches for his ramen cup. 

“I’m a tall man, doll.”

“Don’t care, you’re sitting on my couch.” You say it with a hint of childishness, your tone laced with annoyance.

Hanma chooses to let it slide and slightly closes his legs, allowing you more space on your small couch. However, your behavior still doesn’t sit right with him. You're not truly aware of your surroundings, even though it may seem like you are—one moment you’re holding your chopsticks, the next you’re looking for the remote control. Hanma watches as you jab at the noodles with your chopsticks, seemingly unfazed by the steam rising from the cup.

“It’s hot.” 

Be careful.

“Ah!” you hold a hand to your mouth, your chopsticks falling on the surface of your coffee table. Your eyes are pricking with tears, and you fan your mouth whilst internally cursing yourself for not paying attention.

“Told you it’s hot,” he sounds unbothered—perhaps a little bored, but still reaches for your face to grab it. You don’t fight back despite the urge to get away from him—from his touch. His rough hand holds your jaw like a rag doll and you force yourself to open your eyes. “Open up.” He takes notice of your swollen lips, then you stick out your tongue and it’s reddened. 

In that moment, you realize there's no space left between the two of you. Any distance you tried to maintain with the tall man has vanished, and you let it happen—you let yourself forget why you're mad at him, giving your mind a break from the constant tension around him.

Everything quiets down, you instantly find yourself lost in the same gaze you had been trying long and hard to avoid. You feel hot—you are sure Hanma’s body feels like a furnace against your skin. However, like two flames flickering inches apart, you both burn with the same heat but never quite touch in a way that would have you melting like a candle. 

It’s a continuous tug of war inside your brain as you hold his gaze, your pulse quickening with each subconscious attempt at moving closer to him—even by an inch. Technically, the two of you were now fuckbuddies, two friends who fuck when the other is free or one is feeling like it. There were no strings attached, no responsibilities, no—

“Ya hungry?” Hanma’s voice is a few octaves deeper. You feel a chill run down your spine before making a poor attempt at shaking your head whilst he’s still holding your jaw. 

You feel a pair of lips against yours, and you take it as a response to what you had told him. 

Hanma’s kisses are rough—he pushes his entire body on top of yours as he kisses you, trapping you beneath him. 

You’re glad the cushions beneath you are soft, because the way he pins you down is anything but.

Dominating and playful, he moves his lips against yours in such a dizzying manner that you have to tap his shoulder to ask him for air. But even when he pulls away from your lips to allow you oxygen, his lips land on another patch of skin—your cheek, your jaw, his teeth nibble at your earlobe and he can feel his cock throb when you buck up your hips. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?”

He presses his forehead against yours and you grow annoyed. Frustration washes over you as you realize you crave more of him, even though you know you shouldn't allow the man so close or invade your personal space. Yet, here you are, yielding beneath him. His kisses are like a wildfire in your veins—once it ignites, it spreads uncontrollably, and no matter how dangerous, you can’t help but feed the flames. 

And feed the flames, you do.

Hanma has never seen you so eager, so needy—sure he’s fucked you before, he’s nestled his cock so deep within the snug walls of your pussy but this–

This was different. 

You’re craving him—his lips against yours like a lifeline. Not once has he seen your body move so desperately against his own whilst your clothes are still on. It makes the muscles of his face twitch.

Smirking, he grabs the back of your thigh and pushes it up to your chest before leaning down—face dangerously close to yours. He doesn’t say anything, eyes scanning your expression—the twitch to your lips, the slight furrow to your eyebrows and the sigh that escapes through your nose from how needy you are. You throw your head back against the couch, nudging Hanma’s butt with your free foot. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Am I?” His tone, his words—they make the butterflies in your stomach erupt like wildfire. You can only afford to whine in response, clearly struggling to take his teasing. He is so dominant— to the point where submitting to him was the only choice you had. As you lie beneath him, Hanma is like a cat playing with a string, effortlessly toying with your patience and leaving you both frustrated and horny. 

Incredibly horny. 

“Shuji,” you reach your hands towards his face, holding it and brushing your thumbs against his cheeks. You brush your nose against his, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip so softly—so gently that it makes him chuckle. 

“You’re gentle with it,” he breathes hotly against your lips, digging his fingers into your skin to show you how rough he likes it. You’re about to push him off of you, straddle his lap and show him that you can be rough with it. It feels like a treat you’re craving, it’s attached to a string and Hanma keeps pulling it away from you every time you’re about to have it—

A loud moan escapes your lips when he’s back on you so suddenly, not giving you enough time to breathe or ground yourself. Gripping his shoulders, Hanma enjoys the feeling of your nails digging into his skin—it ignites his body on fire and heightens his senses. The tall man grows more aware of your body temperature, of the vanilla body lotion you had freshly applied onto your skin or how you seem to be letting your nails grow longer—he’s locked in. 

“Oh doll,” he breathes out against your lips as he pulls away. You’re about to moan in response, rile him up further until he’s snatching your clothes off your skin and dig his cock deep into your insides–

“Fuck!” Hanma shouts–no, he screams out of nowhere and is pushing his body off of you. “What the fuck?!”

“What–what?! What’s wrong?” you’re confused, a little startled as you push yourself up with your elbows. 

“Motherfucker–” you hear hissing from the end of the couch, and you look behind Hanma to find your cat sinking his claws into his back. “Let go of me!”

“Calm down!” you try to separate the two, get your cat off the couch and Hanma to stop reaching for the back of his blouse.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down when this little fucker–I will fucking–”

“I said calm down.” you repeat sternly. Your hands reach for your cat’s paws, although he hisses at you, you still understand that it’s a normal reaction for him. Standing up, you grab your fur companion who tries to wriggle out of your hold and he comes face to face with a furious Hanma. 

Your cat hisses again.

“The fuck is his problem?”

“He’s not used to strangers,” you caress your pet’s head, sensing that he’s on high alert. “Let alone men.” 

“Your cat hates men?” 

Your face twists. “My cat isn’t a misandrist.” You roll your eyes at him. “He just… doesn’t appreciate men.” 

“Fancy fucking word–” 

“Anyway, I’m taking him to his room.”

“This fucker has a room?”

“Technically it’s my office.” 

Hanma watches as you walk away with the fur companion who meows very loudly, making his dislike towards the man very clear. He hears you try to shush the pet, promise it good food and treats as long as he behaves and if Hanma didn’t know any better, he would think you were crazy.

Maybe you were. He would never show that much patience towards an animal. 

But now he is able to process what has happened. Assessing the situation, the realization that he got cockblocked by a damn cat hits him like a truck and he sits there, dumbfounded and half offended. 

Cockblocked by a fucking cat. 

You walk back into the living room, looking a bit embarrassed and Hanma takes it that you had come to the same conclusion as him. You stand next to the couch, awkward and stiff and your hands are fiddling with the fabric of your shorts before you open your mouth.

“I-”

“Don’t even.” 

Hearing his bored tone, you deflate and sigh before plopping next to him on the couch. You were now drier than the Sahara and he didn’t seem interested in rearranging your insides as he was a few moments ago. 

Well, you still have your food to finish. 

“Want me to heat up your food again?” 

“Mmm, sure.” 

—

Hanma plans to leave as soon as he’s done eating. It’s almost hilarious the way he grabs his jacket the moment he slurps the final noodle into his mouth and you don’t have it in you to ask him where he’s going. 

After all, it wasn’t part of your agreement. Despite the fact that you didn’t even fuck properly tonight, you still knew that his business wasn’t yours to know and his presence was always going to be temporary. 

“The elevator’s working by the way,” you are throwing the cups of Ramen in the trash when you suddenly speak up and Hanma has to pause his movements. 

“They fixed it?”

“After paying a huge sum of money, yeah they did.”

“That’s good.”

“Mmmhm.” Cold and distant, this is how you want to present yourself to the same man who has no problem taking your heart in his hands and shattering it into small pieces. 

“Next time I come over, I hope that fucker doesn’t dig his nails into my ass next.” Next time.

“I’ll make sure we fuck on my bed then.” You say playfully, bringing the glass of water to your lips and Hanma watches as you maintain eye contact the whole time. 

“Oh yeah? Already planning the next time we gonna fuck?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You were good. I’d be a fool if I said I didn’t want it again.”

Hanma chuckles, offering his signature smirk with a tilt to his head. “Good? Not great, or fucking amazing?”

“Good.” You put emphasis on the word, but the tall man notices how you avoid his eyes and it’s an indirect confession. 

“Sounds like you want me to change your mind.” Squeezing your thighs at the sound of his deep voice, you almost moan in relief when you see him start to take off his jacket.

Fucking finally. 

“Maybe I do.”

—

The November cold was unbearable. The man shivers inside his own car and his hand reaches towards the heater to turn it on. He doesn’t understand why he is here, it was too late for him to be parked under a residential building and he sure hopes he doesn’t look suspicious with the way he keeps checking for the door. 

“Come on, come on…” 

Almost on cue, the door opens and a tall figure walks out. Hair messed up, clothes half adjusted and a cigarette hanging off his lips. It was none other than Hanma Shuji. The man watches as the criminal checks his phone for a good ten seconds before blowing out smoke, his chest stutters a bit as he scoffs and he shoves the device into his pocket before walking towards his car. 

Hanma doesn’t seem to notice the unknown car and the mysterious man is grateful for that. He wants to avoid problems. 

However, how was he going to explain his sudden visit at 11:30PM? 

He shouldn’t…or perhaps he should. 

When you open the door, your eyes are heavy with sleep and the man can’t help but stare at the love bites littering your neck. 

“Hey, missed me?”

Your eyes widen and you instinctively open the door wider. 

“Chifuyu.”

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