#of course he needs to stay away and stop for once to be a yakuza and live his life

[joeku-xiv]

kiryu is so much more than a yakuza, wants a lot more than that, and that’s why he isn’t since the start of the games. of course he feels he still is and always will be a yakuza out of guilty and self-hate for everything that happened in his life

but it’s really fascinating that when he lose everything, his own self too with it, to the point of being completely passive to life as if he’s already dead, the things that brings again a spark to him are exactly the ones that the yakuza taught him

violence as an instrument for self-recognition is such a deranged and pure and old school yakuza thing to do, and i don’t see it in anyone as much as in kiryu in the games

[dreorig]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Can you see what I see?

You and Eddie have been friends for a while now, but you never told him about your schizophrenia as you thought that was unnecessary — until you saw Eddie talking to an alien head attached to his shoulder.

Content/Warnings: eddie brock x male reader | mainly comedy | talk about hallucinations | the slightest mention of prejudice | some violent words. you know, it's venom | not really fluff but kinda. not sure how to label this | nsfw language | suggestive content

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: i'm on the schizophrenic spectrum and this is self indulgent, sorry not sorry. sometimes i see things that you're not supposed to see and i just fuck with it, which made me think that i wouldn't really freak out seeing venom. and now we're here. there's no smut or anything but eddie's a bottom i gotta say (i feel it in my heart). it's mostly silly because we might face the horrors™ but we stay silly. enjoy heheh :)

You had decided to visit a new friend of yours (possibly a crush?), Eddie Brock. It's not like you had anything better to do.

Approaching his door, you just pushed it open, knowing such formalities as knocking on the door were inexistent between you both already. Right away you saw Eddie sitting on the couch, playing what was undoubtedly Yakuza ��� handsome and with a good taste in games, of course you wanted to kiss him each time you caught yourself staring at him. Oh, he also had a weird alien-looking head popping out of his shoulder talking about a delicious brain it had eaten once. You just shrugged.

"Hi, Eddie!" you closed the door behind you, walking towards the kitchen in hope of finding a clean glass because you were thirsty as hell. "Dear God, this house is a mess! Mine's probably worse, though."

Hey, you found the glass!

"Y/N, what are you doing here?!" Eddie asked with a very alarmed voice, following you.

"Eat him!" you heard the head shout.

"Stop that already! He's my friend! I'm not eating him!"

You stared in confusion as you saw Eddie arguing with the head. You leaned against the wall, rather bored, waiting for it to go away. You sipped your water instead of saying anything, perhaps that cold water was just what you needed. Eddie didn't need to get dragged into the mess that was your mind. Just a little bit and the hallucination would go away.

Eddie suddenly stopped saying anything, unlike the head, and looked at you in some sort of shock, which was cool because it looked like you were finally slipping back into reality and seeing what Eddie was really doing and saying.

Wait— shit, if Eddie was staring at you like that then maybe you said something without noticing? It was okay, you could just play it cool. You smiled and raised your cup, "What? Can't a guy drink his friend's water?"

"You… you're not scared?" Eddie asked, looking like he had seen a ghost.

Oh, okay, you definitely muttered something about your hallucination without noticing. What good would it do trying to gaslight him into believing you said nothing now? You should just say the truth.

"Nah, not really. Years ago I would be but it's just a part of my everyday life now. Nothing to worry about. Sorry if I scared you."

"Y/N, I don't—"

"You? Scary? He's funny, Eddie. I told you to not eat him."

You began, completely ignoring Eddie and looking at the head, "Look,— can't believe I'm arguing with an alien head that is not even real— most people are just normal with normal minds and normal thoughts, like Eddie. What normal person wouldn't be alarmed if I suddenly said I'm seeing a freaking alien head attached to him out of the blue? It's not even like I'm a cool dude with abilities that let me talk to ghosts like Norman or anything, you're just another hallucination."

Now imagine how confused poor Eddie was. Hallucinations? Normal people? Eddie being a normal person? Who even was Norman? He wanted to understand what was going on but with you and Venom arguing it was almost impossible.

"I'm real! And I'm not an alien!" the head shouted, sounding very insulted. "I take it back, let's eat him!"

Eddie has had enough, so he tried his best to just whisper, "Venom, would you just shut up for once and let us talk?!'

"Fine, but keep it in mind that if he offends me again I'll rip him apart and eat his brain with chopsticks!"

You stuck your tongue out to the alien as childish as you could and it did the same — why was its tongue so long?!

Eddie just sighed as Venom finally disappeared. He was really confused. What were you talking about? Were you an agent? Perhaps you had your own symbiote? Could be the only reasons why you weren't scared at all. He got closer to you, putting his hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes.

"Y/N, you're not scared of what you saw, right?"

"Nope."

"And you've seen it before?"

"Yep."

"Then you know what it is, right?"

"Duhh, of course. Another hallucination of mine."

"You have hallucinations?"

"Yeah," you chucked. "Every now and then. It's not a symptom that affects me too much, though."

"Symptom?" he tilted his head. "Of what?"

"Oh well, I haven't told you but I have schizophrenia. Before you say anything, I swear that I'm not violent or a threat and that's just some really hurtful prejudice people still have against us that—"

"Y/N," Eddie released your shoulders to hold your hands. "Right now, I'm the last person who could say anything. And honestly, It's not something that bothers me in the slightest."

"Hah, he's insane just like you, Eddie!"

You put a hand on your hip, pointing a finger to nowhere specific, "Hey, you! I don't know where you are but don't you talk about Eddie like that!"

"Ah, so…" Eddie cracked an embarrassed smile. "I'm afraid he's kind of right, I'm not the most sane person at all. And that's why I was so shocked when you opened the door."

"He? What," your eyes widened. "Dude, so you really heard that voice, too?! And I'm just not hallucinating you arguing with that head?!"

"I did, yes. Now you understand my surprise in seeing you? I know what I'm going to tell you sounds like a very crazy story but you gotta believe me."

"Man, haven't I just told you I'm a schizo? Nothing sounds crazy to me. Spit it out because now I'm hella curious."

Eddie hardly knew how to behave. You were the first person to see him talking to his symbiote without thinking he was completely insane and screaming or paralysing after seeing Venom himself. In fact, you looked like a child who was very excited to hear what cool story his parents had to tell him this time.

"What you saw is a symbiote, his name is Venom and we're… kind of bonded. You see, he needs a host and that's how I ended up in this position. I won't hurt you— hell, I'd never. You just can't tell this to anyone, please."

"That's so cool, dude!" You grinned wide. "You don't sweat it, my mouth is sealed! Do you mind if I ask you a few things?"

"It's the least I could do." He chuckled. "Go on."

"You control the symbiote?"

"Not exactly? It's more of a mutual work. Although he takes control over me sometimes, this stubborn creature."

"You're just too soft, Eddie! I gotta do everything myself!"

Only then you remembered the symbiote could talk. You asked, "Hey, Venom, would you mind showing up? Please?" 

"Ohh, then Eddie says the same I did and now you suddenly think I'm real? Don't feel like doing so."

"Oh, c'mon! Pretty please? I wanna apologise."

Within seconds Eddie was completely enveloped by the tall and imposing symbiote, who crossed his arms. "You better."

You were beaming with happiness. What a magnificent day. When would you be able to look at a symbiote so closely again?

"Venom, buddy, you're amazing! Truly! I'm sorry for calling you an alien and doubting your existence. You must understand I'm a little out of touch with reality sometimes and I thought you were part of this mess. Now I'm very aware of who you are, though. Are we okay?" you offered Venom a hand shake.

Instead of shaking your hand, he picked you up and hugged you tight. "Hah, I like you, little man! No wonder why Eddie wants you to kiss him."

As if you weren't already happy enough. You smirked, "He does?"

"He does!"

Eddie could advocate for himself but he was so embarrassed that now he preferred being in full Venom mode, this way you wouldn't see his clearly red face.

"Venom, would you mind letting me see Eddie again? Please? I need his help with something."

"More like he needs your help."

Venom let go of you, then just like he had appeared, he disappeared and Eddie was the one in front of you again. He looked so cute with his flustered face that for a moment all you could think about was how even cuter he would look bouncing on your cock.

"Hi, Eddie. Heard you wanted me to kiss you," you took a step closer, having your face just a few inches away from his.

"I- I mean… perhaps? Maybe. I do, yes. Only if you want," Eddie avoided your gaze when he mumbled.

You held his waist and gently pushed him against the island, making Eddie gasp softly when his back hit the cold marble of the countertop.

"Oh, I do. I want to kiss your hands, your forehead, your cheeks, your neck and, last but not least, your lips. I want to kiss you everywhere. And do a few more things other than that if you allow me to."

Eddie felt his hands shake in anticipation as he wrapped them around your neck and closed his eyes. "Fuck, yes, please."

You chuckled before finally leaning in to kiss Eddie.

[redorich]

A favorite trope of mine has always been- getting to see another person’s past. Is it some kind of judgment thing by a higher power? Something like Freeze Day from SCTFOE? Person trapped in a nightmare and their nightmare is being projected? Who knows. All that’s important is after months of healing, some of the Hermits get to see exactly what Tommy went through. It shows short clips of him before being happy, the rise and fall of Manburg, Wilbur going insane, the festival, the withers, all of it. Just short clips of these things though. The last clip of the SMP is just Dream’s mask outlined by his green hood saying, “you’ll stay here alone with just me until you learn to be quite and respectful and not fight those who are in power over you. Even if you have to stay out here *forever*.”

This turned into a whole drabble smh xD

((btw @give-grian-rights helped me so thank you))

-------

The remaining hermits aren’t sure what happened. They have no way of knowing. There was a witch involved, Cub thinks, but what their fallen friends must have done to piss her off to the point of getting cursed is beyond their ken. Among those laid out are Cleo, Grian, Xisuma, Zedaph, and Tommy.

Scar and Cub work their Vex magic together to figure out that their friends are trapped in their worst memories. (Etho calls it a Demonic Hell Viewing Illusion, and False smacks him upside the head for the Naruto reference.) Holding hands with a victim pulls you in, but that’s what they’re counting on. Joe’s already wading through Cleo’s nightmare before anyone gets the chance to ask, and Impulse and Tango aren’t far behind doing the same for Zedaph. However, it doesn’t work for Grian, Xisuma, and Tommy; they were found already holding hands. They must have figured something out about the curse before they succumbed to it. All the hermits can do for them, for the time being, is hope.

Tommy, Grian, and Xisuma wake to the smell of sulphur and smoke. The ground is orange and littered with bullets. Grian grabs Tommy’s hand, and Xisuma grabs a discarded rifle. Tommy points his finger up at the top of a mound of scrap metal and dead bodies. There’s a nether portal, except the obsidian is whiter than quartz. That's where they have to go to get out of here.

All around them, demons lurch and shriek and hiss and all sorts of unholy behavior, bodily flinging themselves at the trio as though they know none of them can take the men on their own, and that just by dogpiling them all one of them will get lucky. Xisuma instantly snaps into a professional mode, the way he sometimes does when he's killing zombies but they keep social spawning. He takes up the lead with machine gun fire and grenades, carving a path through the crowd. Grian takes up the rear with a handgun. Neither Xisuma nor Tommy ask why Grian is so comfortable with a gun. They've got more pressing issues.

An imp gets lucky. It's just enough to crack the visor of Xisuma's helmet, and the imp instantly gets mowed down.

"I can't see," Xisuma rasps through gritted teeth.

"Then take the helmet off," Tommy says, cleaving through an enemy with a sharp piece of scrap metal. Grian breathes in sharply. As far as Grian's aware, Xisuma always wears his helmet.

Xisuma goes quiet for a second. "I suppose you've got a point."

The helmet gets dropped to the ground and demon limbs shuffle it away. They don't have time to look at Xisuma's wild brown hair, his purple eyes, the burn scars on his jaw.

They make it to the portal all in one piece. Xisuma takes one last wistful look at the Martian hellscape, then takes his friends' hands. They step through the portal together.

----

They step out of the portal into the foyer of a high school. Grian's eyes shutter.

"We'll be headed toward the roof, I believe," he says, staring dully through the spectre of a broken, bloody man holding a rope.

Tommy latches onto Grian's clammy hand to ground him as the three ascend stairs and traverse the dark, winding hallways. The ghost follows them. It isn't like Ghostbur-- it's, well, not vengeful, but it's not kind. The man named Gareth keens about Grian's sins, about a boy named Taurtis who Gareth hates, about mafia and yakuza, about his poor wife Jane.

On the last set of stairs, Gareth makes a wailing remark that causes Grian to bodily flinch. Tommy doesn't even know what the ghost said (he wasn't listening).

"Fuck off," Tommy says, "you're the shittest ghost I've ever met. Even my brother could..."

He trails off. This is not the way to fix things for Grian. On a hunch, he reaches into his pocket. Of course the object he's looking for is in there; it's his brother's coat.

He holds the object out to the ghost. "Have some blue."

Gareth warily takes it, dropping his rope. It floods periwinkle, then cyan, then dark royal blue. A weight seems lifted from the ghost's shoulders as he clutches the blue, mutters something about Jane, and leaves.

Tommy takes Grian's hand, then Xisuma's, and they go through the door to the school's rooftop together. They halt as one. The portal is there. Standing between them is a boy maybe Tommy's age, with a corpse at his feet.

"Sam," Grian whispers. "Taurtis."

The standing boy smiles, eyes obscured by a purple mask with a rectangular symbol on it, and flexes bloody wings. The corpse on the ground has blood all over its back, where wings once were, and broken headphones around his neck.

"Man, Grian, you really held out on me," Sam says. "This Watcher power really is something else--"

Sam topples over backward. His body hits the ground in front of the portal. Xisuma lowers his gun.

"He looked like bad news," Xisuma says.

Grian grimaces. "He was. Come on, let's go."

They once again step into the portal.

----

“Do you want to be a hero, Tommy?” Technoblade roars, “Then die like one!”

Their paltry little group of three gets no chance to take in their surroundings, to see what’s going on and where they need to go. All they can process is the legendary PvP champion, acolyte of the Blood God, Technoblade, unleashing Withers upon what once might have been a town.

Tommy yanks them into cover. “I don’t know where the portal is,” he hisses.

Grian squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll find it.”

Explosions rain hellfire down upon them from all angles-- not just the Withers, but TNT buried in the ground. They’re so close, they can see the man who set it off. And he must have, because he’s yelling about it, yelling about his L’Manberg and his unfinished symphony and begging his father to kill him. He’s wearing Tommy’s coat--

Bile rises in the back of Grian’s throat. Tommy wears his brother’s coat.

Tommy’s eyes are glued to the gleaming diamond sword that Wilbur gives to his father. He watches his brother die all over again, and he knows where he must go. He turns his back on his broken family and breathes.

“We need to go to the Nether,” he says. They nod.

The black portal is across the battlefield. They come across corpses more than once on their way, but ignore them. They can’t afford not to.

In the Nether, there is a rickety, dangerous pathway with no rails, made of cobblestone and obsidian and oak logs. Manic-depressive ravings on signs proclaim the path as the road to Logstedshire. Piglins try to knock them off to no avail, and ghasts blow up the bridge behind them as they run. On the other side of the Logstedshire portal is... actually not a hellscape, as Grian and Xisuma have come to expect, but a little village encampment. Nothing is blown up, nothing is amiss, except Tommy himself. And, of course, the figure they spot after they catch Tommy staring at it.

It’s Dream. The up-and-coming famous speedrunner who Grian faintly recalls killing once in MCC, which was apparently a big deal. The man approaches, and Grian realizes where he recognizes the mask from. It’s the same one that Tommy wears.

“Tommy,” Dream says conversationally, “items in the pit.”

Tommy’s hand wavers, reaches up to unclasp his chestplate, but Xisuma’s hand on his shoulder stops him.

“No,” Tommy says.

“No?” Dream parrots incredulously. “You know the rules. It’s for your own good. Armor in the pit. Tools in the pit. Friends in the pit.”

They all gasp, though for different reasons. Tommy’s eyes narrow. “Friends in the pit? You’ve never said that one before.”

Dream’s head twitches. “Friends in the pit. Friends. In the pit.”

The man’s voice is deeper than Tommy remembers. Something seems to resolve within Dream’s behavior, yet he keeps twitching. “You’re in exile, Tommy, you don’t need. Friends. I’m all you need. You were doing so good. I thought you learned to behave. I’m all you need. You don’t need friends.”

What happened to the eloquent poison that used to drip from Dream’s tongue like honey? He sounds like a broken record. All at once, Tommy staggers under the weight of the realization that this isn’t Dream. Somewhere underneath that horrible man that abused him is the real Dream, trapped in his own body and watching the dreamon that possessed him hurt his friends.

Xisuma’s gun makes an appearance again, but Tommy holds up a hand in a silent request for the admin to hold his fire. Tommy grabs Dream by the shoulders, removes Dream’s mask and then his own so that he can look the man in the eyes. “I know you’re in there, Dream. When I get out of this nightmare, I’ll save you. I swear it on my discs.”

Dream’s face twitches erratically. The movement spreads to his whole head, neck jerking. He raises straight up into the air, higher and higher, then explodes into a shower of items and no body. A white portal shimmers into existence.

“What the hell was that?!” Grian demands.

Tommy grins, taking the man’s hand and leading him to the portal. “I’ve got a friend to save.”

Grian snarls. “Tommy, he abused you. He’s not your friend.”

“That wasn’t Dream. It was a--”

“Dreamon,” Xisuma breathes.

Tommy nods. They walk through the portal together, and when they wake, holding each other close, they know they’ve got a mission. They can do it.

[dangan-tiki-bar]

HI mod tsumiki, Can you do taka, fuyuhiko with a little sister in the killing game? Of course you don't have to. 💞

kiyotaka and fuyuhiko with a younger sibling in the killing game

Cute!! I'm not the absolute best with sibling relationships (only child problems 😎/hj) but I will certainly try my best!! Not gonna lie, this got kinda angsty! W h o o p s !

- Mod Tsumiki

KIYOTAKA ISHIMARU.

• Kiyotaka is a very protective person in general. As much as like a big brother to pretty much his entire class, he's even better towards you. You are his darling little sibling, after all. He is a bit stricter on you, of course. He doesn't want you getting a bad reputation! You deserve to be treated well, and there are no exceptions!

• Once the killing game is announced, Taka tries his hardest to stay calm. He has to be calm for everyone else! But, once he sees you begin to panic, he has to step away from his moral compass duties for a while. He carefully takes you back to his room and sits you down on his bed, gently rubbing your back and listening to your worries. He's pretty stiff, since he doesn't have much experience with this kind of stuff, but he's sincerely trying.

• If anyone starts to pick on you for any reason, it doesn't matter, he will come to your aid. He will hide behind the excuse of bullying, but that's not really the reason. You mean a lot to him, and he wouldn't want to see you hurt. So, he will give a stern talking to them!

• Once his bond with Mondo begins, he is sure to include you! He wants his bro to hang out with his sibling, of course! It's usually extremely fun, watching Mondo tease him and Taka getting mad that it's in front of his sibling. He wants to look strong for you, of course! But, he's happy that Mondo treats you like a little sibling as well.

• If you happened to pass away during the killing game as a victim, Taka would be ... not exactly the most sane. Staring at your dead body would put a bit in his stomach, and he would simply drop to his knees. It took him a while to actually get up, but once he started investigating, he couldn't be stopped. He needed justice. For your sake. You deserved so much better than this fate.

• If you became a blackened, well ... the trial would have a similar fate to Mondo's. Begging for Monokuma to take him instead, sobbing violently as you're dragged away. However, it would be even worse. He wouldn't leave his room for days, not daring to eat, sleep, or even move. He doesn't have an alter ego of you. He doesn't have most things of you. And he's so, so broken from it. The only person that could probably get him out is Mondo.

• Overall, Kiyotaka is a very protective and loving big brother. He makes sure you're well taken care of, making sure you eat correctly, sleep correctly, and take care of that hygiene. It's just his way of showing he truly cares. Because he does. He cares for you so, so much.

FUYUHIKO KUZURYUU.

• Fuyuhiko is a protective soul at heart, being set on keeping you safe. It doesn't matter where you are, how much danger you're in, he's by your side as much as possible. That's what you get for being a Yakuza's sister. You get treat with respect, or just thrown into the dirt. Fuyuhiko will kill a bastard who throws you into the dirt, however.

• Once he sees you worrying about the killing game, he fucking loses it. He starts cursing at Monokuma, absolutely livid about the whole thing. He did already lose one sibling to death, her certainly doesn't want to lose another. But seeing you worry was just the nail in the coffin. You didn't deserve any of that. You deserved to be happy and free, not confined to the fear of being in a Yakuza clan and on top of that, in a killing game.

• If anyone even looked at you the wrong way, Fuyuhiko went off on their asses. You were going through enough as it is, and he wasn't going to stand for it. They had no right to hurt his fucking sibling! Not on his watch. He was insanely protective of you, but if asked enough times, he would back off a VERY TINY bit.

• Your relationship with Peko is a sibling-like bond as well. She takes care of you a lot of the time if Fuyuhiko needs to be alone or is feeling blinding rage. She's like your big sister, and will do anything for you. Of course, you're not young master, but you're the closest to him. You deserve to be treated well. It doesn't matter if Fuyuhiko ordered Peko to or not, she'd still be there.

• If you happened to be a victim of the killing game, Fuyuhiko would not be well. Seeing your dead body, he can't believe the shit that he's seen. Another one of his siblings are dead. Another person close to him is dead. He cries, holding onto your dead body. He doesn't care about the blood, he just needs you. But ... you're gone. So he's going to avenge you. He works tirelessly on the investigation, honestly to the point where it was unhealthy. The guilt of letting you die on his hands, like Natsumi, was eating him alive.

• If you happened to be a blackened, it would be very similar to Peko's trial. Him dashing in to save you and getting hurt in the process. But, if we're being honest, he'll fight until he's dead. Yes, he fought so hard for Peko, but losing you as well? He can't handle this. He'd rather be dead fighting for you to survive, then living without you. If he survived the execution, he'd be stuck in a hospital bed for a longer period of time. It was take a while to feel better. Mentally and physically.

• Being Fuyuhiko's sibling is full of challenges, of course, but you're loved. He truly cares about you in every way, shape, and form, and he wouldn't dare let someone hurt you. He's your big brother, after all.

[bokugaos]

Perfection

pairing: Bokuto x f!reader

length: 4.3k

summary: You are taken away and kept as the yakuza head’s trophy toy in exchange for clearing your father’s debt.

tags — traditional yakuza AU, dubcon, breeding, spanking, overstimulation, cum bulge.

a/n: (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ this is a secret santa gift for @kuroos-babygirl​! it’s also my first fic of 2021 and we’re starting the year right!!~ HAPPY NEW YEAR <33

You look so petulant and angry in your defeat and sink down on your knees as soon as you are dropped off to your own feet inside the walls of the estate. Still you press your clamped hands against your lips, and murmur encouragement for yourself.

“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Your mouth is trembling in frustration—it makes Bokuto’s victory all the sweeter. He can tell that you haven’t heard him approach because you flinch back when his shadow suddenly falls across you.

Your pupils become little pinpricks of fear, then dilate again when the first confusion settles as you stare up at the yakuza boss, remembering why he is standing there now, tapping his foot impatiently.

He is slightly hunched over, yet still towering so high above you. A menacing grin slowly stretches his mouth. He looks a lot less tired when he smiles—and a lot less creepy. It doesn’t keep your heart from throbbing. You stare up at him quietly, your thoughts running across your face clear as day—so when you try to flee, he already knows about it long before you even move the first muscle. His arm shoots out to grab your hair and keep you right where you are.

“A deal’s a deal.” he murmurs into your grimacing face. You reach up and curl your hands around his wrist, but… it appears that he doesn’t even feel your fingers around him.

Bokuto doesn’t do deals with just any commoners, but your father is in too much debt, one that he wouldn’t even be able to pay back in an entire lifetime. Your father knows that, and the yakuza lord does too. Hence why he very kindly offered to clear the debt in exchange for, well, you. And of course, your parents agreed in a heartbeat. If there was even a slight hesitation or remorse of the fact that you were practically being sold to the city’s lord, your parents didn’t show any of it. You clench your thighs together, belly tight and prickly, tears ready to spill from your eyes.

Bokuto’s smile widens. The fist he has in your hair tightens and as you wince and whine, he pulls you closer to push your face against the growing bulge beneath his hakama.

He moves his hips, fucking against your face while you make choked little sounds and half-heartedly try to turn yourself away despite you becoming stupidly excited at the heat and smell of his dick through the fabric. You could use your hands to push him off of you, but you don’t.

“Take all your clothes off. The maids will take care of them.”

You pause at that. You’ve forgotten that you’re not alone.

You start to glance around as much as possible while he distractingly keeps smearing his bulge against your face. There are shadows slinking around the edges of the buildings.

You know that none of them would be able to help you.

—

It is rather embarrassing to admit this, but Bokuto takes care of you better than your parents ever did. He makes sure the servants make you good food, drapes you in lavish clothes, have you bathed in the finest of flowers; practically everything you’ve ever dreamed of about being in the higher class in the society.

And yet, you still spend your time as if you’re counting down the days to your release from a place so godforsaken. At this rate, and with the way you are behaving, you are quickly becoming more of an embarrassment to him than something he can show off.

Hurriedly spreading out the futon and sitting on the edge of it, he pulls you into his lap, only slightly sated by hearing your small yelp of surprise. He quickly locates the hem of your kimono and pushes it up to bunch at your waist, not even bothering to untie your obi. You try to get a word out at the same time his open palm comes down hard against the flesh of your exposed ass, and any would-be protests die in your throat.

Silently fuming, Bokuto holds you in place with a firm hand on the small of your back. Holding you close like this while also getting to take out his disappointment on you satisfied several needs at once, save for a particular need he only becomes aware of when the feeling of your belly against his crotch becomes too good to ignore.

However, his conscience sternly urges him to hold back. You are not perfect yet. This is not the right time.

If you are not responding to his graciousness, maybe you are the type who learns from being punished.

Once that thought crosses his mind, Bokuto feels like a man possessed as he hoists you off of his lap and onto the futon. You fall on your front with little more than a muted sound of surprise, and he pins you down with his own body before you can even attempt to find your bearings. In his haste to fulfill the desire that has finally been fully recognized, he begins tearing away your intricately wrapped kimono. You are in no position to refuse his grabbing hands, though you do become bolder in your soft cries of protest. You are becoming confident enough to use your words.

So Bokuto holds you in such a way to force you further against the sheets, quite literally taking your breath away. He is much, much bigger and stronger than you, holding all of your struggling limbs at once with ease.

He pins your arms behind your back and moves on to your legs and seizes you specifically by your ankles to spread them open in a humiliating pose. The position left your pussy open and vulnerable to him, and he can’t rid himself of his hakama fast enough. He catches sight of you glancing over your shoulder just in time to see his hard, leaking cock, and the look of fear on your face practically has him throbbing. When he grabs your thighs and aligns the tip with your distinctly unaroused entrance, he shoves in as deep as your body will allow.

You can no longer keep your pain silent, the pathetic cries bubbling out over your quivering lips as he holds you tight and prepares to spear in further. Your walls are beginning to grow slick from what he suspects is not desire but necessity, as the experience would have been much more painful than it needs to be if you were not at least a little wet. Every thrust slowly becomes easier, but the delicious resistance of your tight body remains dominant.

Bokuto buries himself within you and only moves his hips slightly at first, before starting a pace that wrings out the volume you are still holding back. You are crying out like a bitch in heat and it only encourages him to fuck you harder.

Bokuto hoists you back up just enough to arch your back towards him. This way he is able to look into your eyes, brimming with emotion and the primal fear of prey that felt its flesh being torn apart by a predator. He groans as his hand moves to your throat, holding you tight so he can feel you tremble and gasp for breath.

“I’ve been very patient. I gave everything you needed to adjust to living here with me. Yet you still refuse to fulfill your purpose,” he murmurs harshly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear with every word. “If you continue to refuse me, you’ll be sorry.”

With little more than a grunt of exertion, he spills himself directly into your abused womb. His hand slowly lets up its grip on your throat and you are able to breathe, though each breath comes out ragged and pitiful. Your body falls slack against the futon as soon as he lets you go, and he moves in to catch your legs and lift them up. Then he shifts to move closer to you, pulling you close and slipping a hand downwards to scoop up his release and push it back inside of you.

He feels you shiver against him when he presses his lips to the back of your shoulder. The hand that is not between your thighs is idly rubbing your belly, and his voice came out smooth as silk. “Don’t disappoint me again, you hear me?”

You are quiet, but Bokuto knows better than to read this as hesitation. It is more like you are tired and trying to catch your breath, or to find the proper words to say.

You are not yet in love with the idea, but rather, it’s as if you are at peace. Like you are finally coming to terms with what your life is now. The thought brings a bright grim to Bokuto’s face. Acceptance constitutes progress too, and it brings you one step closer to perfection.

—

There are many days where he is rough with you. Bokuto has taken over leadership at a very young age, and oftentimes, he takes his aggravation with him and takes it out on you. Part of him is dimly aware of this, but not aware enough to make him stop. Today is one of those days, and he is in a sour mood, desperately in need of both an outlet to pour his anger out and consolation.

You are shivering when Bokuto returns to the room, his steps heavy even on the carpeted floor. It is not exactly cold but you are naked, without even a single strand of hair out of place and your slender neck is on display just as the rest of you, and so nothing gets caught within any straps and hinges.

It is more the trepidation—and anticipation—that has you nervously dancing in place despite the thing he has carefully strapped you into a few minutes earlier. The wood is polished within an inch of its life, cinched around your neck and wrists, keeping you forced to bend over, ass to the door—just another little twist to his games that will keep you nervous and whiny because the thought of someone else stumbling in and getting an eyeful of your cunt is getting you tingly all over.

His little slut.

For the first time, Bokuto stays quiet. He is known as loud and boisterous young yakuza boss across the land, so to experience this silence is extremely unnerving for you. He does not even address you as he makes his way over with slow, heavy steps, but the thick air in the room makes his labored breathing all the louder.

It’s as if your cunt is glowing like a stop sign between your thighs, beckoning him closer. He wants to drag his fingers through the soft gape of your lips and pay some attention to your plump clit; torture it with some mean pinching like he knows you’ll go crazy for, but first, he slowly rounds to the front to have a look at your expression.

Your eyebrows are furrowed, anticipating his every move. You try to look up at him but his height and your position makes it impossible. He reaches for your chin, and you try to turn away from it but he grabs you anyway and slowly leans down, bringing his face very close to yours. You jerk away and abruptly avert your gaze elsewhere when you remember that you’re not supposed to look at him—not yet, not until he gives you the permission to—but he can see your face: bright and every bit scared as is excited.

He breathes slowly and measured, staring at you a bit longer just to unsettle you—then he lets go of your face and carefully tucks a lock of your hair back behind your ear. Some of the nervous fear seems to vanish from your expression after that.

Satisfied that everything is back in order, Bokuto stands back up and rounds you, watching the sway of your tits hanging down, and how your nipples are already swollen and needy. He pinches one—hard—and you cry out in surprise, your hips jerk as you automatically try to get away from the pain and realize you can’t go anywhere.

“No!” You whine, but it sounds weak. Your voice is trembling. He ignores you and pinches again, slower this time; increasing the pressure bit by bit until you start whining louder and louder, your knees bending then stretching again as you try to somehow mitigate the pain radiating off the tip of your breast.

He pulls down slowly, stretching the tissue until your whining becomes a short, rough cry of real pain, then he lets abruptly go.

When he leans over, he can see your cunt clench and relax desperately, slick already starting to glisten at the opening. You’ve always been a slut for pain.

He rounds you slowly, making a show out of letting his belt jingle loudly so you know he’s getting his cock out. You start whining again but a sharp two-fingered slap to your cunt has you shut up quickly.

Bokuto presses down with one big hand on the small of your back until you bend for him to have a comfortable grip on your hips as he drags the wide head of his cock through the valley of your ass.

Finally, it catches at the pouty rim of your pussy, pressing against it and forcing it to start spreading for the massive intrusion. He can hear you gasp for breath and he smirks in triumph.

“Squeal for me,” he murmurs, deep and ominous, then presses forward in earnest.

You do, because there’s no way you can keep quiet when Bokuto is fucking you open on his dick. You spread your toes against the carpet and curl them, trying to twitch out of the way but being held in place by his huge hands and his heavy weight on your back.

You are pinned in place, made to take his cock—basically letting him use you anyway he wants—and you couldn’t be more happy that he’s not hurting you too much, even though it is so very scary. You trust him, deep down. Of course you do.

But when you are like this, deep in your head space and reduced to a breeding sow gagging for dick, it is difficult to remember that you are nothing else but a trophy for him.

Bokuto tells you to squeal—and you obey. Simple as that.

His cock digs into your hole, spreading you so wide you are sure you are going to tear right through the middle. You don’t know when he stops existing as Bokuto in your mind and becomes your owner; domineering, possessive and belittling.

“Gonna put some little babies in you, yeah? Get your belly so swollen you can only waddle around.”

The words settle like hot coals in your belly, burning through you and sparking electric and delicious at the tips of your nipples. Bokuto can be really mean to you when he is angry. And while you are scared of his wrath, his words only serve as the fuel for your slippery slide down the slope. “Have to piss standing up because you’d not be able to get back up by yourself.”

You groan low—more a gurgle, really—and helplessly clench down on the big fat dick fucking into you. With everything compounded, you feel hot and suffocated. He’s fucking destroying you from the inside out, starting at your poor womb that will get massively dilated by the time he is done with what he is going to put into you.

Because that’s what you’re meant to be. He wants you to be waddling around with your holes sloppy and gaping from that massive dick of his you regularly get. Think about the others seeing you like that and knowing exactly that you’re nothing more than a disgusting breeding sow, made to be pumped full of his cum.

He fucks you like a beast and you grunt with every filling of his dick you receive. You can feel his balls swinging between your thighs; full and ripe, ready to fill you up until your belly is distending and your guts are gurgling with the cum he’s filling you with.

He increases his pace and you’ve never felt more animalistic; he groans deep and drawn-out, his hands cupping your belly to feel it starting to bulge with the sheer amount of cum he’s flooding your with while your eyes roll up into your head and your tongue is lolling out, drooling onto your chin, undignified and animalistic.

When he pulls out, it is not smooth. Even the head of his cock is big, and despite the massive spread of your pussy lips, it gets caught behind it anyway and needs to be dragged out with a humiliating wet pop like a plug getting pulled.

His cum immediately starts flowing as you can’t help but bear down, knees bending and clit pulsating needy and ripe between your thighs when the warm mess slides down your thighs as if you had pissed yourself in your excitement.

You don’t notice much of what is going on around you, not when he unclasps the thing from your neck and wrists, until big hands carefully touch you and turn you around into his big arms.

He carefully pats your cheek with a wide fingertip until you blearily blink open your eyes that feel glued-shut from the tears.

His anger should have dissipated by now, because there is a spark of affection in his bright, gold eyes and he nods before cradling you closer to his wide chest with one arm as the hand of the other descends between your thighs.

He’s gentle as his massive fingers slide into your cunt, fucking you slow and gentle while his thumb presses just this side of pleasurable against your swollen clit, dragging painfully tight circles into it until your body is strung tight as a bow string again, your teeth clenched together, sharp little nails digging into his huge forearm.

He keeps at it until you come, messy and loud, crying out as you jerk in his secure hold and gets everything wet as you squirt and he fucks you through it all.

Afterwards he holds you close, warming you with his massive body as he gently rocks you and leans his cheek against your forehead.

Bokuto can be awfully affectionate like that.

And that’s the only sign you need to see that he adores you just as much as you trust him… so far. But trust and security is different from love, and you’re not sure if you will ever be able to. He’s your owner and nothing more, and you’d be naive to think otherwise.

—

Even though you’ve grown accustomed to his presence as well as your new life in the estate, you still tense at the sound of his footsteps as they draw closer and closer over the floor.

You are still not sure about just how much you are allowed to see—your every question in that regard is easily ignored.

By now, you are more eager—as much as that makes you loathe yourself to admit it. You begin to anticipate his visits, lying on your back on the lush mattress he equips your room with and fucking your hole with your fingers as fast as you can without getting a cramp in his arm.

Your loud whimpers suffuse the air and bring an indulgent, broad grin onto Bokuto’s face as soon as he finally emerges in the doorjamb.

“So eager, my feather,” he purrs, slowly collapsing the stick in itself. He strolls casually to where you are wriggling on the sheets, and you turn your face away from him, subsequently baring your throat. Predictably, a large hand finds it without problem as if that’s the only thing his eyes are focused on.

“Are you ready this time?” he rumbles, the deep voice making you shiver and your nipples tighten into sensitive, little nubs. You wet your lips with a quick tongue, legs spreading wide for the hand stroking down his throat, between the valley of your breasts and down your abdomen, in order to vanish between your legs. A soft whine escapes you as he circles your hole, sensitive from getting fucked so often, before one of his fingers dips inside alongside your own fingers, making you strain and gasp.

“Is this… is this going to be the last time?” It is your standard question—almost like a ritual by now. It’s familiar to you like the broad length of Bokuto’s cock was, spreading you open and fucking you breathless. “Are you going to let me go after this?”

His lips stretch into another smile, his free hand stroking over your hair like a parent consoling their child.

“I told you I will breed you full,” he coos—just like always, seems like he’s in a good mood today. “Can’t let anyone see my little toy if she’s not well-bred now, can I?” He seems to take amusement in your predicament, setting you on edge, the humiliation driving ever deeper because you know you could do nothing against it.

You huff, ready to turn around and present your ass on all fours, but…

“Not this time. Stay just like that, beautiful.” Bokuto leans down, his voice—impossibly—dropping even lower as he slides onto the bed and between your thighs; still clothed.

He huffs a laugh, his tactile fingers sliding along your inner thighs, gently rubbing on the lips of your puffy, stretched hole, then curling two fingers inside you.

Your body is moving on its own—hips curling up into his stroking hand. You hate it. You love it.

“Have you been waiting long?” Bokuto asks in amusement, opening his own pants and drawing out that length that makes your mouth water and your hole clench in anticipation. Endorphins rush through your body, making you tingly and needy to be filled with nothing but his cock and cum.

You’ve already been trained so well by now… and from Bokuto’s triumphant grin, he is obnoxiously proud about it. Can’t wait to show you off and brag to his friends about his sweet little plaything; his trophy toy.

He leans down, his deep breaths ghosting along your collarbone. The fact that Bokuto likes your scent the most—he told you himself—and he likes to breathe you in while sucing on your neck, the artery there, feeling the pump of your blood there—is just as arousing as it is intimidating.

“You are... exquisite,” he whispers against your bare neck, dripping the words onto you like they were poetry even as the head of his cock slowly breaches you. You gasp—every time surprised at the fact that you could prepare yourself as much as you liked… Bokuto’s cock will still split you open and make you feel so fucking vulnerable.

“I will groom you to perfection.”

You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as his hips snap forward, driving himself in deep with the first thrust. He could feel tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, but whether from how much it burns (it still does, and you love it) or from the fact that he so casually tells you about his plans to corrupt you… you cannot tell. You don’t even want to tell.

You whimper, arms and legs curling around him, drawing him closer as he leisurely fucks you, his tongue and teeth scraping over your throat and collarbone.

“You are going to be the best there is.” Bokuto raises his head, mouthing along the line of your jaw. “Everyone else is going to wish that you’re theirs,” he sounded entirely too smug for that sentence, “but you’re mine. I own you. ”

You can feel Bokuto’s muscles flexing where your calves lay on his sides. He is so broad, so huge that you can barely wrap your whole body on him and yet… and yet…

Fuck, your whole body is primed to him. To this man brimming with strength and vitality and intellect.

Bokuto is the perfect owner to breed anyone… and your body welcomes him greedily—needy hole opening up despite the burn of the entry; just swallowing that cock again and again, clinging sweetly as if it loathes to let him out on every second stroke.

He laughs—low and painfully happy as if he has read your thoughts. The sound rumbles through his chest and directly into you, your toes curling and feet scrabbling at the backs of his thighs, fingernails scratching along his back as your lust spirals higher, soft sounds of satisfaction spilling out of your throat, no matter how hard you try to hold them back.

“Open up for me,” Bokuto whispers right into your ear—his voice sweet and deadly like poison. “Open up, sweet thing. Take it… take me.”

The last word is rasped in a low rumble—more carnal than human as he thrusts more harshly, grinding deep into you and making you cry with your head thrown back. You hear the breathy, rasping chuckle of him filling you up good and proper.

You love how satisfied you feel at being a good bitch for him.

—

Afterwards, when Bokuto is gone, you realize your face is wet. You think you must have been sweating more than you thought.

Yes. That’s it.

[some-dr-writings]

SDR2 guys x intimidating looking but sweet S/O

Hajime Hinata:

·       You had been Hajime’s best friend for as long as he could remember. You were always so smart and the top in your class. Truthfully Hajime expected you to be invited to Hope’s Peak, but… you were always rambunctious. As smart as you were, you didn’t care for rules that existed outside ones of safety. You were labeled the school delinquent, getting into fights, breaking most rules for the sake of breaking them, doing whatever you could to get a reaction from others, all the while smiling and laughing away having the time of your life.

·       “Ah! Hajime! That’s amazing!” “Y/N!?” You scooped him into your arms, lifting off his feet, spinning around and around. “MY boy, going to HOPE’S PEAK ACADEMY! This is amazing!” Suddenly your spinning came to a stop, stomping a foot on the ground to do so. “Hajime. Hope’s Peak is far, so you’ll be moving right? If that’s the case, you better text me every day! Okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want too, but at least keep me informed of the big stuff like how your first day was or the school festival or at least the sports day! Or, OR! If you’d like, maybe I could move with you, somewhere close to the school and I’ll just get a job in the area so you could just talk to me in person! I would visit, but even by train it’s a two-day trip and I’d probably get board at some point and get kicked off, and there’s also studying for school or work or whatever I do.” A light pink dusted Hajime’s cheeks, feeling a bit flustered at how excited you were, still effortlessly him closely, high off the ground. He swore his heart began to race seeing your absolutely beaming smile which seemed to shine brighter than the sun to him.

·       When with his friends he’d speak of you often, not to the point of annoyance, just enough for them to know he clearly missed you. From how he described you, you seemed to be the sweetest, most wholesome person in existence despite being a bit rowdy. So when Kazuichi caught Hajime holding hands and appearing to be going on a date with a person covered in scars exposed by your unbuttoned shirt, haired dyed a bright blond, scary tattoos, spiked jacket and boots, even having a mask covering you face, nobody believed him till Hajime walked in on the conversation, saying that was you. After that they insisted on meeting you, wanting to know such a seemingly contrasting person existed, and when they did meet you, they gave Hajime their approval, even if he didn’t want or need it.

   Izuru Kamakura:

·       Many things Izuru found boring, but if he had to choose one thing he found more boring than anything else, it’d have to be the baseless rumors surrounding you, his partner, all because you had a scary face. It was so ridiculous he couldn’t even entertain the idea of you secretly being the heir of a yakuza gang or something so off the wall even he couldn’t recall. Whenever he heard such rumors as he walked down Hope’s Peak’s halls, he thought he may just fall asleep from how tiring it was, thinking about the mental gymnastics people had to go through to even come to such conclusions.

·       It was another day and again he heard of your imaginary exploits of having killed a man in cold blood for money or some such and instantly he just felt exhausted. He continued to walk till he stopped before a door and knocked. “Oh, hey Izu-baby. What brings you here?” “… I just found myself here.” You chuckled, simply opening the door, taking your boyfriend’s hand and leading him in.

·       You promptly plopped him into a seat, going off to get something, Izuru had the chance to examine the many brushes, hair products and hair accessories spread out on the counter. There were even several sticky notes on the edges of the large vanity mirror, neat writing noting some appointments you had. Seems like he had come in when you were cleaning between appointments. “I found a new brush and I think it should work well with your thick long hair.” You placed your a hand on one of the back rest corners of the chair, leaning a little over him, smiling as you held said brush before him. “Then test it.”

·       You giddily collected his hair, your touch occasionally grazing across his skin. Your hands though covered in cuts, slightly dyed from all your hair styling work, and probably tired from having worked for almost six hours straight according to the sticky notes, they still were ever so gentle, making sure to not get caught on or pull any knots. Then you began to brush, starting from the bottom and working your way up. “Izuru, you have a few split ends, and it’s been a while, mind if I give you a light trim while I have you here?” “You have an appointment in forty-three minuets.” “Hmm… Yeah, I can get this done in time.” Once you reached the top you gave his hair a few extra strokes from top to bottom, making sure you got everything. “Oh, I also found a new shampoo which can help your hair. It’s still so dull, but at this point it might be because of your diet since I can’t seem to find anything that can work for you. Have you been eating? Has the staff been testing you on talents again and not feeding you?” “No.” You were going to ponder for a moment, to try figuring out what your boyfriend’s problem could be when said boyfriend placed a hand on your cheek, lightly pulling you beside him. Closing his eyes, he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. “You’re so exhausted you forgot we spoke of this very subject yesterday.” “Huh?” Your entire face flushed a bright red, still unused to Izuru’s sparce displays of affection. Then to your confusion he pulled you onto his lap. “I-Izu-baby?” “You are taking a nap.” For some reason in that moment of seeing you so flustered he recalled the rumors. The thought of you even harming a fly was laughable, you were the absolute sweetest, kindest, caring person he had ever met. Holding you close he simply leaned into you, thinking you could both use a nap together.

   Nagito Komaeda:

·       You made your own rumors. The ones about you secretly being an assassin, you started it. The one about how you once were an international thief, you did it. The one about you selling drugs, that one was actually an accident, you were just getting a friend their pain meds, but you spread about a few more stories like it not long after. Why purposefully spread rumors many would wonder… well… there were two reasons.

·       The first, you found most people annoying and simply didn’t want to deal with them, content with your small, very close friend group. It was the perfect way to get people to back off so you wouldn’t have to deal with them in their first place. You also found some fun in seeing people run from you from your presents alone, made you feel like some cartoon super villain which you found quite amusing.

·       The second reason… You had always told your boyfriend the first one, but to his confusion, you’d always avoid telling him the other reason. Nagito knew you’d had to have your reasons for not telling him, but… well you were his partner, of course he was going to worry a little even if it seemed you knew what you were doing.

·       But he could ignore it no longer when you took the blame for him. Nagito came up with a plan to blow up a building, forcing the exams to be delayed so his classmates could have more time to prepare for them… and you took for the blame for it, being expelled for a time, but not forever. You couldn’t even stay on your dorm on campus, winding up staying in some cheap hotel paid by the school.

·       “Why did you do it?” “Eh, Nagito?” “WHY! Why did you take the blame for me!? I was trying to get you more time so you could show off in glory, but now you’re stuck here. Why did you do it?” Nagito was always so calm and composed, likely from facing disaster after disaster caused by his bad luck, but he was actually troubled, he was upset, but not even at himself like he always did thinking himself trash, no, he was legitimately upset with you. “… Normally people greet their partner with a ‘hello’ or something.” The last thing you were expected to be greeted by your first morning exiled from school was your boyfriend in such a state. “I- No. Y/N, tell me, why?” “… I…” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, this new side you had never even thought existed, yet you also couldn’t bear to look at him either so instead you looked to his feet. “I don’t want to lie to you, but… I don’t want to tell you the truth either. But! What I can tell you, is that this is fine, I chose this, I wanted this. So, you don’t have to worry about me, this just means I have even more time to develop my talent.” You tried giving him a smile, but it just ended up strained seeing that didn’t placate him. W-why? He always saw everything ultimates did was amazing and respected even the worst of decisions, yet… he was mad, and sad, and so many other things you couldn’t pinpoint not being able to bring yourself to study his expression for long.

·       “No, this is not fine. What you did is not helping you. This is only a detriment. I-I-I, I just can’t understand! I can’t understand why. How did this turn out so wrong?” “… the other reason.” “Huh?” You spoke so quietly, it was but a whisper, Nagito had just barely caught it. “The other reason… It’s why I NEED a bad reputation, not just something I want for the fun of it.” You sighed, preparing for the inevitable Nagito calling himself trash and you trying to comfort him song and dance. “You’re such a volatile wild card. I never know what you’ll do next. Nagito, you literally tried to blow up a building with people inside, I know your luck probably would have saved them or something or you assumed the ultimates inside would save the day, but… that’s not healthy! You’ve been through so much and need help. I, I want to help you, but I just don’t know what to do. So… to me, the best I can do is try to protect you.” Even as his eyes widened, realizing what happened, you continued. “With a bad reputation, rumors of all sorts, both extreme and little, it can be expected that I can do anything without it being out of character. I can take on anyone’s bad actions and call it my own and all will believe it… Even if I can’t protect you from the insanity that is our life, the very least I can do is protect you from yourself, the consequences of your actions. I can’t get you to at last see yourself as decent, I can’t stop your luck from torturing you, this… this is all I can think of for what I could ever do for you… it’s the only kind of affection I can give without you saying or thinking you’re unworthy of it… though I guess I don’t even have that now, but… I don’t know, maybe this was-”

·       …

·       He hugged you. He didn’t know what to say. He took in everything you said, yet his mind was just blank. He had so much to say, yet he just could… All he could do was just nuzzle into you, one who was just so sweet and kind, and… he needed to better for you, Nagito at least new that for sure.

   Imposter:

·       Imposter wondered how they ever were lucky enough to find a partner like you. They never thought they’d find anyone who could get them to see themselves as a person even without the disguises, let alone a whole class at one point. Yes, they still disguised themselves, but when they were just with you they felt okay to not keep the make-up, wigs and costumes. They were just… whoever they were without being someone else. Their own identity was something they still struggled with but working on it with your helped.

·       Individuals who could stay true to themselves no matter what were people they respected highly, that was probably what got them to fall for you in the first place. No matter who avoided you, the children who cried from seeing your large, buff figure, no matter the sports nuts who insisted on you joining their team, you always were the shy Super High School Level Flower Shop Keep who loved exercising.

·       When they first met you, they were masquerading as Beyakuya Togami, not exactly the most sociable of personalities, so they thought they scared you away. When first meeting a person you didn’t speak much, instead you’d gift flowers and spoke through flower language. “Oh, well… there’s a lot you can say with flowers. I’ve just always liked them. I just like being outside, so I exercise a lot! But then I got toned, and already being on the bulkier side some people find me scary… Ah, but if I give the children flowers, they usually stop crying… unless a bee comes by, then they cry again.” Even though you were so soft spoken when you did speak, it was still rather intimidating. There was just so much power in it.

·       They rather enjoyed how you’d decorate them with your beloved plants, whether it be placing them behind their ear, in their hair, or in their breast pocket. They also adored each bouquet you gave. Very quickly their whole dorm room smelled of fast-food and a light floral perfume. They pressed and kept every last flower, preserving them all even the ones from when you first met.

·       You were so open and honest, even though you tried hiding it they knew when you had a crush on them- or well Beyakuya… They had no identity outside of whoever they were impersonating, but… the thought made their heart ache. So, when you came up to them with giant bouquet filled with tulips, purple roses, red roses, alstroemerias, and baby’s breath they could easily see even as you hid it behind your back, a bright blush on your cheeks, they knew what was happening, and rejected you before you could give them the flowers and confess. You hugged the bouquet close as they explained their situation, and even after, you still held out the flowers to them. “So, your identity is more complex than I knew, but all our time together still happened. And if you change identities, it’ll be like a change in color. Definitely different, even changing the meaning, but the base is still the same, you’ll still remember our time together even as someone else.” And since that moment, no matter what came, you never left them.

   Gundham Tanaka:

·       The moment Gundham met the Super High School Level Vet, Gundham fell head over heels for them. They were an intimidating, brutish, scarred from battles past, every last feature was terrifying, their features sharp, everything about them commanded the respect of all, even getting his Dark Devas to be weary of them at first sight.

·       Caring for animals was a tricky job, it often involved getting scratches and bites, but you also needed to be patient and kind. You needed to be respected but also not appear hostile. A balance you embodied, looking fierce, yet you were so gentle and sensitive to others around you.

·       The pair of you always spent time looking after his many animals, tending to any injuries or illnesses they possibly could have gotten.

·       You also tended to Gundham Tanaka himself, much to his flustered, blushing protest. “I have no such injures of which you speak!” “Tanaka, you can’t even hold a pencil you hand is hurting so bad. Please let me at least look at it.” He kept refusing till some students came by asking if he were alright, fearing the scary looking person who kept looming around him all day. “Pathetic! Of such a low level you can’t even decern one’s true nature!” Then he stomped off till finally he found you. “My Emperor!” “Hey Tana-” “I seek thy aid, for only one of your caliber could even remotely stand a chance of resisting my poisoned skin, let alone tent to the curse that plagues this mortal form!” You just silently stared at him for a moment before you started fussing over him, clutching his jacket since you wanted to hug him. “What happened!? Did it get worse!? Tell me EVERYTHING about how you feel! Do you think it’s infected!? How does it hurt!? Does it sting or burn, or what!?” Gundham himself began to panic, unsure as to how to calm and put you at ease, never before seeing you worried to the point of tears forming in the corners of your eyes! However, you did quickly settle down, getting serious tending to his wound…

·       And even as you did so, you avoided touching him. If you needed to apply ointment, you’d use a q-tip, you’d do anything you could to not touch him… Even you tending to him sent his heart racing, showing vulnerability, he was used to giving the care, not the other way around. He felt vulnerable in a way, he showed you he was hurting, but you were so gentle with him, so aware of him, even stopping and giving him a moment to pause and collect himself.

·       Someone so attentive and understanding… He groaned, embarrassed at how giddy, and excited, and nervous even the mere thought of you made him.

   Kazuichi Soda:

·       He was terrified of you at first, even going so far as to actively avoid you. But then he met you. The moment he did so he was so confused as to how he found you scary? After actually taking to you, he found you, looks and all so adorable! He’d gush to anyone and everyone about how kind and amazing and sweet you were. He’d defend you to the death if a person even made the smallest negative comment about you, much to your complete embarrassment.

·       After becoming your boyfriend Kazuichi would always hang around you, cooing over everything that was you, shattering any intimidating precents you had with the man hugging your arm, speaking in such a sickeningly sweet tone with sparkling eyes.

·       Feeling like the world was against you, Kazuichi spent all his time with you to make up for it. No matter how many times you told him he didn’t have to he insisted on giving you all the affection you so rightly deserve!

·       When you weren’t embarrassed by the man’s antics you’d be just as affectionate in return. As he tinkered on whatever you’d hug him from behind, sighing, and nuzzling into the nape of his neck, tickling him, distracting him from his work. He’d giggle, giddy out of his mind at having someone so sweet and adorable love him almost as much as he loved you!

·       If Kazuichi caught even one person giving you a funny look, he’d just hug and snuggle you with a pout, glaring at others.

·       “Kazu, you don’t have to defend me from everyone. I know I’m not exactly the most approachable looking.” “What!? No! You are gorgeous! Adorable! Beautiful! Don’t self-deprecate yourself!” “I’m not, I just… I know you’re affectionate, but you don’t have to be so protective, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do this every time. I just want you to enjoy yourself not feel like you have to be my knight in shining armor or something.” “Well, I can’t enjoy myself if others are being jerks!” Kazuichi would never admit it to you, but he felt guilty. He knew what it was like to be bullied, for others to make comments. He also felt guilty for judging you so much before meeting you. he was once scared with a person he instantly fell in love with after finally talking to them. He just wanted to make up for that, he wanted to say he was sorry… And feeling you hug him, thank him for being your knight, he was reminded all over why he loved such a sweet person so much, and he was determined to give you all the love he could to make up from being so cruel before.

   Teruteru Hanamura: part 1

·       Teru had a rather interesting relationship with the new delivery person. You weren’t mean, but your whole aura was rather intimidating with your cold demeanor and with how muscular you were. Yet of all people, you were warm and kind to him. You merrily chat about your day, or about anything. You’d get a laugh out of his flirting, even try and miserably fail at flirting back, something Teru found endlessly endearing. Whatever made Teru special he honestly didn’t care, just enjoying your company so much.

·       After your hard work, well hard for most but for you it was just seemingly light stretches, Teru would cook a hearty meal for you to keep you going for the rest of the day! It was his favorite thing to do before opening the restaurant, just that single quiet moment of enjoying a meal with you.

·       Teru could find something attractive about anyone, but with you… well you were certainly attractive, a stallion, a ten out of ten to him, but he found he so quickly grew feelings for you. True a person’s personality or voice could be sexy but there was something different about it with you. But whatever it was, didn’t matter to him, all he knew was that he just wanted to spend more time with you, and whatever you did together didn’t matter to him, as long as you were together.

·       You sighed, taking another bite. “Is something the matter?” “I’m just going to miss this.” “What?” You didn’t even glance his way, simply continuing to enjoy your meal. “Yeah, I gotta move soon. I’ve actually stayed here much longer than I should, but… I just couldn’t resist sticking around longer ‘cause of you… again.” “Ah, well… that’s too bad. It’s been rather fun having you around.” “It’ll be alright. I know you’ll be fine without me. Actually, I’d like to ask you to make a promise to forget me.” “Forget you!? How in tarn- AH I- Ahem- How could I do that!?” You simply smiled and laughed, just as you did before. You placed a hand on his cheek, gently caressing him with your thumb. “You’re the only person I can call a friend. I know you can keep this promise, that’s just the kind of person you are. Sure, you’re a bit raunchy, but you truly are kind and care for others. You could never let me feel guilty about leaving you behind.” Teru was silent for a moment, just taking in what you said. “When will you be leaving?” “Uh… I should say tomorrow, but I’m thinking a week.” A week? Teru could work with that!

·       “Please go on a date with me!” “… Huh?” In complete bafflement you just let Teruteru take your hands into his, a determined glint in his eyes. “If you’ll be leaving I want to make the most of the time we have left!” “…oh… uh… o-okay, we could do that.”

·       And so, the week was filled with date after date, going all out with no inhibitions doing anything you could think of from watching a movie to sky diving. Wherever you went Teru always had a packed meal on hand for the pair of you to enjoy. It was honestly the best week of either of your lives. And all too quickly it had already passed you by.

·       Standing on the bridge in the park you stood side by side watching the sun rise. “Well, that’s it, I better get going. I really enjoyed this, just as always. Thank you.” “Now hold on a moment, you can’t go just yet!” He held out a small plastic container to you. “You need a good meal for the road! Don’t know where you’re going, but wherever it is, it’d be a downright shame if I left you hungry along the way!” You simply stared at him for a moment before the softest, most earnest of smiles he had ever seen creased your lips. So tenderly you took the container. “… Some things never change I suppose… At least I know you can still keep that promise.” Then without so much as explaining your strange words, you disappeared as if you never even were there. It was sad for Teru, yet something in him knew he’d see you again, and that thought let him go back to his everyday life as if you never appeared, yet after that life just seemed more lively to him, just like those later years back in Hope’s Peak, though as to why that time seemed livelier he couldn’t quite remember.

  Nekomaru Nidai:

·       Being a rather intimidating looking guy with a heart of gold, Nekomaru took to understanding your situation quickly. Both of you being athletic and getting rather larger builds it just kinda naturally happened.

·       Being the exceedingly kind individual you were others often took advantage of that. Even if you knew it was bad you couldn’t bring yourself to not help others in need for even the smallest of things. This was not something Nekomaru could stand, but finding you standing out in the rain for two days straight was the last straw and the man insisted on training you! You were a bit nervous at first not wanting to take up so much of your best friend’s time, but with some reassurances Nekomaru managed to warm you up, both literally and metaphorically to the training.

·       At some point the training turned into days out, going hiking up mountains, or jogging on beaches, swimming in lakes and doing crossfit, sometimes going out for walks in the night, exploring the city looking for things to do, perhaps some karaoke, some slow dancing by moon light, and yeah you two just ended up dating without meaning too.

·       The pair of you always came up with excuses like the slow dancing was training in balance, no you totally did not want to dance because it was a beautiful night and you could hear ballroom music not far in the distance, no that was totally not it, that’d be dumb… or so you kept telling yourself in these moments so you would not confess to the man fearing he really did only see these outings as training and nothing else.

·       That was till you overheard Nekomaru chatting with his classmates, one of them asking how his ‘date’ with you went and he spoke of your beautiful hike up the mountains, not even batting an eye at their wording. Did… did he not notice, or just not care? Did this mean he liked you too? Or did you mishear? Quickly getting frustrated with this line of thinking you decided to just settle this!

·       “There you are-” “I have something to tell you!” The man silently stood there, just waiting. Okay, this was it, and you took a deep breath. “I… I REALLY LIKE YOU!” “I REALLY LIKE YOU TOO! YOU ARE A CHERISHED FRIEND OF MINE!” “NO, I MEAN- I-I-I LOVE YOU, I THINK!? I DON’T KNOW!” “I LOVE YOU TOO, A LOT IN FACT!” “N-NOT AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU!” “OH YEAH!?” “YES! SO MUCH!”

·       Screaming your feelings for one another was a very common occurrence in the relationship. Even if one of you simply caught sight of the other off in the distance you’d yell ‘I love you’s, which more often than not scared or startled the people around you hearing such loud, booming voices out of nowhere.

·       Life with Nekomaru could be a bit much at times, but it was well worth it for such an amazing guy.

   Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:

·       You were perfect for him.

·       You didn’t have any reputation really, but wherever you went people knew not to mess with you. Your mere presents not much but if one got close, they could feel this unsettling air about you making them go away. You, being the Super High School Level Street Fighter knew how to defend yourself from most attackers so Fuyuhiko didn’t have to worry about your safety like he’d have to with most others like the majority of his old classmates like Hajime.

·       You were also the most kind and sweet person he had met. Behind closed doors you’d always have you arms open for Fuyuhiko. You’d hold him close, just let him listen to your steady heartbeat and make him feel so safe and secure. His favorite thing was to just cuddle with you.

·       He also liked you being by his side, it served a dual purpose. One: if somehow when meeting some rival gang his reputation didn’t precede him, you were enough to intimidate them at a glance, despite his own baby face. The second and much more important to him, just being with you. True you were well equipped to handle yourself, but you were still human can had come back home to him plenty of times with new scars not from your usual fights, so by your side he and Peko could protect you.

·       He also liked how you were with his subordinates. You were strict, showing no signs of weakness, more than willing to put them in their place should it be needed, yet that didn’t stop you from being kind. You’d do research for days on end trying to find the perfect birthday gift them. You’d train their kids by hand in all ways of fighting, but not for attacking but self-defense, their parents were in a dangerous job so your ‘day job’ of being a children’s fighting instructor helped to place their minds at ease a little.

·       If he could he’d go on for hours singing your praises. You were perfect for him in every single way without a single doubt.

[doyumacy]

ʀɪᴅᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ - 2

ʏᴜᴛᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʀᴋ ʟᴇᴇ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ, ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰ. ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ) ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5,2ᴋ

3

two years ago

“起きて、女の赤ちゃん” (okite, on'na no akachan) (get up, baby girl) you hear yuta whisper.

you groan, rolling on your stomach and burying your head in the pillows. yuta chuckles. “come on, doll. it’s time to wake up.”

“how can you even ask me to wake up at...?” you turn your head and check the hour, “seven in the morning?! are you sick to your head?”

yuta grins. “i got a flight to catch, don’t you remember?”

“oh,” you sigh sadly. “is it today?”

he nods and kisses your head. “get up. i’ll make breakfast and then you can come back to sleep.”

you shake your head. “i’ll take you to the airport.”

“that’s my girl,” he smirks and gives you a peck.

you smile and stand up, unfolding your sleeping (yuta’s) shirt. he grins when you turn around entering the bathroom and seeing half of your ass.

so sexy.

once he’s finished cooking, he serves you and you eat quietly. when you’re done doing the dishes, he’s back from his bedroom carrying a small black expensive bag.

you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. “don’t go. stay and we can have sex all day.”

yuta laughs and kisses you. “sounds very tempting but i have to go.”

you pout sadly. “i will miss you.”

“i know,” he kisses you again. “i’ll miss you, too.”

“can i ask you something?” you ask, caressing his lower back.

he nods. “anything, baby girl.”

“can i stay here while you’re gone?” you smile looking at him. “i love your place.”

yuta smirks. “of course you can. this is practically your place too.”

you smile big. “little tokyo is my favourite place in los angeles.”

“you say it because i live here,” he softly pinches your nose.

you laugh. “maybe. and because the food is good.”

“mmm yeah,” he cups your face and kisses you. “you love eating japanese.”

you bite your lip. “yeah. it’s my favourite. i always devour it.”

yuta groans. “やめて。” (yamete) (stop).

“make me,” you nip at his lip.

“okay. stop it,” he yanks himself free. “i’m gonna be late.”

you giggle. “let’s go.”

(...)

present

“just a signature here and i’ll take it from here,” you hear a woman behind you say.

you shake your head, getting rid of that memory. one of many memories you made with yuta in the place you’re about to sell.

“yes, of course,” you reply.

you sigh the paper and hand her the folder with the documents. the woman smiles at you. “i’ll call you when i have an offer.”

you nod. “thank you.”

the woman leaves the apartment and you hug yourself, rubbing your forearms. you follow the woman, leaving the place shutting the door behind you.

(...)

one of the things people should know about mark, is that his stubbornness is how he usually gets his way. in all honesty, society depicts whoever is stubborn is just a spoiled brat. it’s not generally like that for mark.

he spends his days in the warehouse and his own condo, and night in the streets. but he can’t put the pieces together.

he knows good and well the elegant beauty known as you won’t be involved in a hellhole like that. he does, he’s not stupid. and neither you are.

he sighs and sits in front of his big tv screen and rubs his chin. there’s something about you that keeps making him go back and look for you. and it’s not like he’s gonna stop seeing you since you live with johnny.

and johnny is his sponsor.

but johnny is smart and he won’t let his sister get in the middle of his business, right? for her safety?

“hey mark,” yves calls him, entering the room. “we got a meeting. narcotics deal with the vanguards squad.”

to be frank, he never wanted to make business with them because they were problematic, they are known for narcotics and gambling, but still.

mark stands up and makes his way to the vanguard squad’s warehouse.

mark, along with johnny, yves and jaehyun arrive at the warehouse. his companions sit on the black sofa, their eyes meeting the 2 familiar faces they dread to see. one of them has very pushed back dark hair and a red haired greet them.

“good evening, guys,” the dark haired smirks.

“let’s just skip this,” johnny says. “what is it that you want?”

“well, narcotics of course,” the black haired sits in front of them.

“but we don’t want the crap the yakuzas are selling,” the red haired says.

“we don’t have contact with the yakuza,” johnny admits.

“i know,” the black haired nods. “not anymore tho.”

mark frowns. “not anymore?”

“oh yeah, you’re new,” he laughs. “anyway, i know you have someone that almost conquered the market.” he looks at johnny.

johnny clears his throat. “yeah, well he’s not around anymore.”

“we heard,” the red haired replies, “and that’s what we thought.”

jaehyun knits his eyebrows. “we’re not following…”

“we want what the japanese used to sell,” the black haired one crosses one leg. “ that shit was pure methamphetamine and our suppliers haven’t figured out how he did such excellent work.”

johnny presses his lips together. “as i said, he’s not around anymore.”

the black haired squints his eyes, looking at johnny. “you’re to me, johnny. i don’t like being lied to.”

the red haired stands up and comes back holding a black folder, tossing it to johnny on the table between them. johnny opens the folder just to see a few pictures of a black haired yuta in different areas of los angeles.

he gulps.

“he is definitely around,” the red haired smiles.

johnny closes the folder, ignoring the questioning look of jaehyun. “i’ll talk to him.”

the two men smile. “please do it quickly. we don’t like waiting.”

johnny groans. “and stop fucking following us, doyoung.”

doyoung smiles. “tell yuta taeil and i are looking forward to work with him.”

“what the fuck?” jaehyun stares at johnny, once they have left the warehouse. “yuta is alive and you fucking knew?”

johnny sighs. “not right now, jaehyun.”

“fuck off,” jaehyun groans. “what the hell is wrong with you? does y/n know?”

“no, and she can’t know,” johnny warns him.

“okay, this seems like a family thing so i think we shouldn’t be here,” mark states.

“no no,” johnny shakes his head. “just, don’t tell y/n, okay? i’ll find a way to convince doyoung and taeil to get a new supplier.”

“you know they won’t change their minds,” yves says, looking at her nails. “come on, this is a business. fuck family.”

“you’re a bitch,” jaehyun glances at her.

“keep crying about it,” yves mocks him.

“shut up,” johnny groans. “if you say a word about what you found out today i’ll kill you.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes. “you’re a piece of shit, johnny.”

“i didn’t have a choice!” johnny stares at him.

“okay okay,” mark gets in the middle of them. “whatever the reason was i’m sure you have an explanation, but we need to keep in mind we can’t fuck around doyoung and taeil. they’ll eat us alive.”

“mark’s right,” yves replies. “you need to get your shit together and separate your friendship and business or you're gonna get us all killed for real.”

(...)

“hello?” mark greets after he picks up the phone.

“lee,” you say. “hi.”

“who is this?” mark jokes.

you scoff. “it’s me.”

“mmm,” he hums. “i don’t remember you. who are you again?”

you sigh, trying to keep your patience. “it’s y/n. y/n suh.”

“ah, yeah. i remember you. what’s up?”

“you can pick up your car today,” you announce.

“cool. i’ll be there in a few hours.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

there’s a silence and you clear your throat. “hang up.”

“you hang up,” mark says.

you groan. “you’re unbearable, mark.”

mark laughs. “i ain’t doing shit.”

“that’s why!” you growl. “bye, mark.”

“bye y/n,” you can hear him smile.

you hang up and groan. “keep your shit together, y/n.”

“that was very… bad,” you hear jungwoo murmuring behind you.

“don’t even say a word,” you warn him.

jungwoo chuckles. “why would i tell people my friend sucks at flirting?”

“i wasn’t flirting!”you stare at him.

“clearly.” he hums.

you’re about to close the shop by the time mark stops by. he walks to you, fixing his hair and greets you smiling. “sorry, there was an accident on the 101.”

“yeah, i heard,” you say. “follow me, your car is behind the shop.”

mark follows you and you open the back door garage. you take his car keys and tosses at him. “you can check it out or try it.”

“nah, i trust you,” mark opens the car door. “see you tonight?”

“what’s tonight?” you frown.

“there's a race in southern cali,” he tilts his head. “i thought you knew.”

you hiss. “fucking johnny told me it was cancelled.”

“oh,” mark nods. “guess i just screwed up.”

“see you there,” you grab your jacket.

“alright, gorgeous,” he smirks, getting inside his car. “looking forward.”

you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.

you wear lilac leather pants and a white tanktop, showing your torso off. your hair is down and straightened.

you know the south of california like the palm of your hand.  every neighbourhood or street, you know it and all thanks to your father, who was a trucker and would take you and johnny to his trips most of the time.

“i see you brought a new car,” mark says, walking around the red car.

you throw him a smirk. “it’s taeyong’s.”

“he has a good taste,” mark says, checking the red toyota supra out.

“yeah.”

“but mine’s better,” mark grins.

“is that how you get a woman with you? showing her your car off?” you raise an eyebrow.

mark smiles sideways and leans against the car. “it works, most of the time.”

you nod and bite your lip. “well, it doesn’t work with me.”

“i know,” mark replies. “but still, you would let me fuck you in the backseat.”

you straighten your back up and cross your arms on your chest. “not much into sex car.”

“what are you into then?” mark stares at you.

you grin. “i have to go. see you around mark.”

and you walk away from him, swinging your hips more than you do. mark chuckles and bit at his lip.

this race is more showy, with way more people than the other street races. you’re not racing tonight, but taeyong, mark and other people are. johnny is there expecting mark to win since the bet is high.

as expected, mark ends up in first place, followed by taeyong. mark was received by a big crowd, mostly girls. you roll your eyes and taeyong pats your shoulder. “you will have to deal with his fans.”

“i don’t give a shit about this dude,” you spit out.

“aha,” taeyong nods. “get in. we’re going to a party.”

“did you bring it?” you eye him.

“yeah.”

you smile and get into his car. he drives back to your house and the street is already crowded. you enter your house and spot jaehyun giving drinks to everyone. you approach him and take two beers. you come back with taeyong and hand him one. he opens it and after looking for johnny and don’t seeing him, he takes your hand and goes to the nearest bathroom. he locks the door and takes out a small plastic bag with white powder.

you smile and taeyong pours out two generously thick lines of cocaine on the bathroom counter. “ladies first.”

“thank you.”

you focus on getting the cocaine in your system. getting as much in as you can, but it’s not a race and for the love of fuck, don’t waste the shit. you can tell it’s expensive, and good coke is hard to come by these days.

a few rounds of coke and a fair amount of talking later, taeyong and you are high as hell.

you, taeyong and yuta used to do some lines of coke just to have a bit of fun and feel more relaxed, not making it an addiction of course. you always know when to stop.

“ah,” you stand up. “i need a drink.”

“can you bring me one?” taeyong smiles at you.

you nod and walk to the kitchen. you’re sure everyone at this party is high as hell too, from weed to god knows what. you enter the kitchen and see mark making out with a random girl. you scoff passing next to them and open the fridge. “mmm where the fuck is the buzz?” you ask yourself.

“i’m pretty sure that’s not the place to look for it,” mark says, leaning against the counter next to you.

you frown and shake your head, releasing it’s not the fridge what you opened but the cupboard. you squint your eyes. “correct.”

you walk now to the real fridge and take a vodka bottle out. mark approaches you again and cups your jaw with one hand, looking straight into your eyes. “you are high.”

you shrug and yank your jaw free. “none of your business. go back to your blonde girl.”

“don’t mix drugs and alcohol. are you stupid?” he takes the bottle.

you laugh. “mind your business, mark.”

mark sighs and takes your hand taking out from the kitchen. you don’t know why but your legs won’t listen to you and follow him. you spot taeyong sleeping on the couch you were on minutes ago.

mark takes you out from the house and walks to his car. he helps you to get into the passenger seat and closes the door once you're settled in. he gets in the car as well and starts the engine driving.

you frown and turn to him. “where are you taking me?”

“you need a meal and orange juice,” he states, eyes on the road.

“i don’t want to sober up,” you pout.

“why the hell did you take that shit?” he almost groans.

“it’s a nice feeling,” you shrug, sliding a little on the seat.

“it’s bullshit,” he clenches his teeth.

“ah,” you laugh. “you have never been high, mark lee?”

“i don’t take that shit,” he turns to you. “and if you were smart you wouldn't do it.”

you roll your eyes. “you sound like johnny right now. i’m not an addict, by the way.”

mark parks at a convenient store and he gets off the car. he buys a hot dog and a bottle of orange juice. when he comes back, you have your eyes shut but you’re not sleeping.

you open them when you hear him getting into the car. he hands you the food and you take them. you eat in silence and when you finally finish your orange juice, you look at him. “happy now?”

“not happy,” he replies, resting his back on the backrest.

you stay in silence for a couple of minutes and you look around his car. the black and white interior are cool. “your car’s nice.”

“thanks.”

you press your lips together and stare at mark’s thighs. he has his hands resting on them and you eye at them. they’re pretty and seem soft. a vein popping out calls your attention and that’s when you realize he’s looking at you. you clear your throat and look straight ahead.

“you like my hands?” he asks.

“your ring is nice,” you reply.

mark cups your jaw again, making your face turn to him. “and what about my thighs?”

“n-nice jeans,” you scoff.

mark grins. “thanks.”

you hum in response. his touch against your skin on your face is warm, and you wonder how it’d feel against your p-

“a penny for your thoughts?” he tilts his head.

“i dislike you.”

mark laughs. “your body says a different thing.”

“i get chills just from the thought of me strangling you.”

“kinky,” mark stares at your lips.

“fuck you.”

the lights of the convenient store get turned off and the park is empty. mark never takes his eyes off of you, not sure if he should go for it. he’s thinking about it too much.

“fuck this,” you groan. “can you just fuck me here?”

“i thought you weren’t into car sex,” mark rubs your lower lip.

“i’m not,” you lick his finger. “but i really want to suck you off right now.”

“shit,” he hisses. “it’s all yours.”

your hand reaches for his belt and you undoit slowly, your eye darting to his. you unzip his jeans and palm his clothed dick. mark bites his lips, looking at you. you give him a peck while you take out his dick and stroke him a few times. it’s big and you can see some veins popping out. the tip is red, almost as if it’s angry. you bite your lip and look at mark. “you’re gonna ruin my mouth.”

mark smiles proudly. “just take it slowly, gorgeous.”

you lick mark’s cock to full hardness. mark takes a hand off the wheel and fists it in your hair, pushing you down onto his dick. letting out a long moan, mark throws his head back.

“fuck y/n,” mark pants out as you bob your head on his cock.

you continue to work on mark over with your mouth, tongue slipping and sliding over him, cheeks hollowed out adding the right level of pressure.

mark’s hand tightens in your hair and he starts to move your head more, clearly wanting to find his release. “fuck, you’re so good.”

you slightly bite his tip and you hear mark groan and tighten even more your hair. “shit y/n. no teeth.”

you do it again and he curses. mark shoots into your mouth and you swallow the salty load and lick him clean before putting him back in his jeans. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and slide in your seat. “now i’m sober.”

mark’s comes back from his high and turns to you, still panting. “want to go to my place?”

“i’m sleepy.”

“sleep at my place.”

“i just gave you head, isn’t it going to be weird?” you look at him.

“nah,” he turns his car on. “i can sleep on the couch.”

mark takes the 5 driving to his place, blasting some 2000’s hip hop. and then he notices something odd.

a car.

that is following them since they left the parking lot.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, taking note of his sudden change of behavior.

“there’s a black car that has been following us since we left the parking lot,” mark murmurs.

“take the next exit to chinatown,” you look at him.

mark nods, eyes still focused on the view mirror. he can’t pick out exactly who it is. mark leaves the freeway, passing through the cars as fast as he can until he loses the car. he makes a sharp turn and takes the 101 before taking the 5 again. no sign of the car. he finally parks his car inside his building garage and helps you to get out of the car.

mark presses the buttons and unlocks the elevator. you rest your back against the elevator wall and shut your eyes together. “do you know who was following us?”

mark shakes his head. “no idea. you?”

“nope,” you look at him. “maybe some freak?”

“hopefully,” he leans next to you.

“how many floors until we get to yours?” you yawn.

“two,” he replies and smiles looking at you. “that tired?”

“it was a long day,” you shrug.

“can i help you to sleep like a baby?” he asks as the elevator door open.

you hum in response, exiting the elevator. mark stops in front of his door and unlocks it. he lets you in first and you’re surprised by how clean and organized his place is.

“your place is cool,” you say.

“thanks,” mark takes off his jacket and places it on the couch. “my bedroom is on the right, second door. i’ll be there in a minute.”

“ah,” you squint your eyes at him. “i told you i’m sleepy. i ain’t fucking with you tonight.”

“and we’re not,” mark replies from the kitchen. “i’m just gonna help you to sleep better. by eating you out.”

you gulp. “okay.”

you go to his bedroom and spot the comfortable big bed. you get off your leather pants and fold them, placing it on the couch next to the bed. thank god you’re wearing sexy panties.

you lay on the bed and rest your head in the grey covered pillows.

mark enters his bedroom and places a glass of water on the bedside table for you and whistles and he notices your white laced panties. “white is suddenly my favourite color.”

you giggle. “get to work, lee.”

mark laughs and lays on his stomach between your legs. his fingers find the hem of your panties and take them off, tossing them across the bed.

one of his hands moves down between your thighs and spreads your legs a bit more. he plants kisses on them and you sigh. “mark.”

he hums, passing a finger through your silk. “you’re soaked, gorgeous.”

mark is not exaggerating, his finger slides inside you with no resistance at all. your hips rock to match his pace. mark uses his palm to put pressure upon your clit, while his finger strokes your g-spot, causing you to cry out with pleasure. mark then licks you slowly and lightly from the bottom of your lips to the top of your clit.

“oh,” you moan.

mark licks your clit again, pressing his tongue a little deeper this time. you moan again and with the tip of his tongue, he works the slick, sensitive skin just beneath your clit. your hips rock back and forth over him, forcing his tongue across your clit and finally down to your opening. fingers still spreading you wide, he presses his tongue inside you as deep it will go. your muscles tighten around him. he slides his tongue back and forth across your opening, teasing you, and his hands strokes the smooth skin of your thighs, skim over your hips. he pushes his tongue inside of you as quick and hard as he can, and pulls it back out again. with every stroke, he feels you grow wetter and wetter.

“mark,” you gasp. “touch my clit.”

he pulls away from you just long enough to growl, “touch it yourself. touch yourself for me.”

mark pushes your hips back down over his face, and this time he swivels his tongue slowly and he pushes it inside. he can feel your fingers circling your clit now, the tip of your fingernails brushing against his hair with every stroke.

with your free hand, you seize his wrist and drag his hand over you until it’s on one of your covered breast. he squeezes it and doesn't let go, and he feels you tighten around his tongue one more time and he call tell you’re close by the volume of your hasp and cries. the muscles inside you ripple around his tongue as you come. you arch your back as he licks you clean and you moan again due the overstimulation.

before he pulls away he kisses the inside of your thighs again and looks at you smiling. “goodnight, baby.”

he hands you your panties again and you take them, putting them on. “you can stay here. it’s your bed after all.”

“not personal, but i don’t sleep comfortably with someone next to me,” mark wipes his chin and mouth with his hand. “whatever you need just take it, okay?”

you nod and hug a pillow. “thanks. turn the lights off please.”

the next morning, after mark tried to make breakfast and ended up spilling the banana smoothie all over your top, he gives you a ride back to your house wearing one of his shirts.

you enter the kitchen and johnny and jisung are having breakfast together. you open the fridge and take an apple. “good morning, where are your manners?” johnny teases.

“right here,” you lift your middle finger.

jisung slightly chuckles and keeps eating his breakfast. johnny shakes his head. “is this what you teach your little brother?”

jisung isn’t your real brother nor johnny’s, but you met him when he was a kid living by himself in the streets. he’s a nice kid and despite everything he has been through, he still believes that there is something good waiting for him.

“aren’t you late for school, jisung?” you ignore johnny.

jisung and johnny look at each other. “oh right. you haven’t been around for a year,” jisung nods. “i dropped out last semester.”

“what?” you frown. “why?”

“i don’t like college,” jisung shrugs. “i like racing. like you guys.”

“how could i not say no to him?” johnny looks at him. “he wants to race then he gets to do what he wants.”

“but you’re a kid!” you stare at him. “he’s a kid.”

jisung rolls his eyes. “you were my age when you started racing, y/n.”

you sigh and rub your forehead. “okay. fine, just… don’t get yourself killed.”

“i’m not stupid,” jisung smiles.

“hey, where were you by the way? taeyong said he saw you leaving with someone,” johnny stands up, washing his dish.

“a ran into an old friend,” you lie, leaning against the counter.

johnny squints his eyes, looking at you. “i’ve seen that shirt before.”

“i bought it when i was in seoul,” you say, nonchalant.

“didn’t know they sell canadian merch in seoul,” jisung mutters.

(...)

“no.”

that is yuta’s final word. he doesn’t want to be involved in that same shit again.

johnny sighs. “that doyoung and taeil guy will kill us if we don’t give them what they want.”

“i had to fake my death because of the shit i was making back in the past. i lost everything, johnny.”

“just cook some for us while we find someone better,” johnny begs. “please. i’m desperate.”

yuta sighs, rubbing his forehead. “fine, but just this time. no more, johnny.”

“thank you so much,” johnny says, relieved. he then scratches his head. “uhm, did you know y/n is back?”

yuta turns to him. “when?”

“about two weeks ago?”

yuta stays still and rests his hands on his hips. “how… how is she?”

“better. she's racing again,” johnny replies.

yuta nods. “she loves racing.”

“yeah.”

“when is she racing again?” yuta looks at johnny. “i want to see her.”

“are you insane? no one can see you.” johnny glances at him.

“and no one won’t. i just want to see her again, it’s been a while.”

“there’s a race tomorrow night. everyone will meet at the santa monica pier.”

“thanks. i’ll be there.”

the next night, you show up at the santa monica pier wearing mark’s shirt again. you say it’s nothing. you like the shirt and it looks great with your black ripped jeans. that’s it.

you spot mark with his gang on the other side of the pier. the same chick is with them and you assume she’s either part of it or friends with them. you frown when you see her getting too close to mark and he doesn’t pull her away. instead, he wraps an arm around her hips.

why do you care? mark was just a hookup.

you turn around and see jaehyun walking towards you. he’s wearing a white t-shirt and a denim jacket. you decide to make a trade.

“handsome boy,” you call him.

“that’s me,” he smirks playfully.

“i need a favour,” you say.

“sure. what is it?”

“i need your shirt.”

he knits his eyebrows together. “my shirt?”

you nod. “i don’t like this one anymore.”

he laughs. “i’m not gonna strip in the middle of everyone.”

“you’re such a pussy,” you groan.

your hands reach the hem of the shirt and you pull it over your head earning the glance of a few men that are around you. you turn to them. “never seen a pair of boobs? losers.”

jaehyun whistles at your black bralette. “oh man, i’d bang you easily.”

“don’t be gross, jaehyun. give me your shirt. i’m cold,” you stare at him.

jaehyun takes his jacket off and then his shirt, handing it to you. it smells like him and you have always liked his perfume. “maybe i’d let you bang me.”

jaehyun laughs and after he’s done putting mark’s shirt on, he puts on the denim jacket. “can i race with you tonight?”

“you want to see everyone lose, huh,” you smile, fixing your hair.

“it’s nice to see their defeated faces,” jaehyun opens the car door..

“let’s go then,” you smile.

you give a look to mark and you notice he’s watching you, eyebrows slightly frowned. you smile to yourself.

as you’re about to get into your car, you look up and notice someone standing on one of the building roofs in front of the entrance of the santa monica pier looking straight in your direction. you can’t see much, but the way the person stands up reminds you of yuta.

you shake your head and finally get into your car.

when you finally arrive at the secret destination, your car and mark’s are one of the few lined up. his car is next to yours and you refuse to make eye contact with him. jaehyun laughs softly. “what is the canadian boy staring at you?”

“because i am hot?” you shrug, still looking straight ahead.

“you are yes, but he seems mad,” jaehyun slyly looks at him. “what did you do to him?”

“nothing.”

jaehyun hums. he’s not stupid.

a flag girl places in front of the cars, the engines are rumbling. all eyes are focused on tonight’s racers. you are placed in a secretive parking lot. the flag girl points at mark, who starts his engines. she then points at you, who replicate that. your hands go up, and then down.

immediately a guy called jinyoung is ahead, but mark and you know that would happen sooner or later. see, a common mistake in drifters is that they are so focused on getting to the finish line they don't even spare a notice at their technique. the point of drifting isn’t just how fast you can go, but instead it’s precision, and making sure your form is on point.

you make flawless turn after flawless turn, but with mark in the lead. you reach for your NOS, but flinch your hand back. no. you are not using NOS for drifting tonight. you see mark make a mistake and his car loses control, earning a low growl from his throat. and past him is your nissan gtr, shining in the dark of night, and out of your window, your smug look is on your face. a smirk with your eyes low. the finish line is less than 20 feet away from your car, and you precisely turn your car, showing it off, having a sharp right.

you won.

and you have won that money. jaehyun is cheering with a wide grin on his face, clapping. “no fucking shit. you’re the best.”

you open the door of your car and mark sees you getting off with a seductive, and intimidating smirk on your face. god, he never wanted to fuck someone that bad until tonight.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Powerful Ch. 3

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU*

Warnings: Misogyny (not from Shouta), a dagger, kinda fluffy

Word Count: 3k

Author's Note: This took too damn long but here we are. Definitely coming out with another part or two, but the next one is gonna start at a huge timeskip so yeah. That'll be fun.

Anywho, Enjoy~

For Reference, this is the dress I describe in here.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

*

*

*

For your second night with Shouta you find yourself lost in thought, staring out at the stars. The stress from before the meeting never disappeared, only delayed. Now it’s all catching up, and your brain is struggling to sort everything out.

Shouta could be on the receiving end of some very misogynistic and traditional clans’ anger very soon. You’re relieved that your future husband is nothing like them, but the backlash he could be getting just by bringing you to a meeting so soon after the announcement is frightening, not to mention some irrational clans may decide to split off and find a rival Yakuza to adopt them. Even so, that’s probably the worst of the outcomes. It’s unlikely you’ll have to worry about either of your safety, though there is still a small chance.

For the second time Shouta wraps his arms around you, surrounding you with his scent and body heat.

“I hope this won’t become a habit, little one.” He presses his cheek to the side of your head, kissing your temple gently. His presence is calming, helps your overactive brain slow down.

“I just needed space to think.” He hums, the sound reverberating through your body.

“What could you be thinking about so late at night?” You don’t really want to tell him, but you figured it’s better than keeping it all in.

“I just worry about the backlash you’ll be getting after the meeting today. This organization is a traditional one, and women have always been kept away from the violent and criminal side of it for centuries. To suddenly name an onna-oyabun, and a woman that previously held a low rank at that, you’re bound to feel some sort of repercussions.” He squeezes you gently, kisses your temple again.

“That’s what you’re worrying your pretty head about? I’ll be fine, little one. Let’s go to bed.” He’s right, you suppose. There isn’t a lot that can affect him or his position, so there isn’t a lot you need to worry about. You nod, taking your weight off of him to go back to the room. You’re a little surprised when he picks you up again, scoops you off your feet and carries you to bed. He tugs you into him just the same as the night before, and once again you fall asleep to the soft thrum of his heart.

The next morning you’re woken by Shouta again. This time you don’t immediately pull away, instead choosing to bask in his embrace a few moments longer. It feels like you’ve known Shouta for years rather than hours, having seen some of the most intimate and private parts of him, and all you want to do is dig deeper. But of course, there’s time for that later.

“Come on, little one. It’s time to wake up. We’re going to see your parents today, and then we’ve got another meeting to attend.” You hum lightly then push off of him, taking a glance at his handsome face before getting out of bed to prepare for the day. You choose a dress you hadn’t worn in a while, one that felt like it would fit today’s events, a flowing black sundress with a halter neckline. Simple black heels pair nicely with it, as well as a small black clutch purse.

You aren’t anxious about Shouta meeting your parents. They aren’t as traditional as most, ideals and views closer to Shouta’s. All parties involved gave their bows in greeting, even Shouta, and brunch went by without a hitch. It wasn’t the usual cringey romcom scene where the parents ask ‘why do you love our daughter’. In fact, they know that the marriage is strategic. Of course, Shouta had made his thoughts clear, that he intends to ensure the union is enjoyable for the both of you. His honesty made a small smile worm its way onto your face, though you managed to hide it well enough.

Soon you’re on the road again, en route to the second meeting. You aren’t too surprised that Shouta already has two scheduled meetings back-to-back after the gala, he is a busy man after all.

The venue is another restaurant, this one not quite as high-end but just as beautiful, the entire massive building shaped like a circle and a koi pond around the perimeter. A bridge is all that connects the sidewalk with the building. You and Shouta are guided through by a host, and out a back door where another bridge connects to a separate island in the extended pond, the structure enclosed with sheer beige curtains.

Again, conversation abruptly stops when you enter. You’ll have to get used to it, you suppose. You sit, and the meeting begins. The subject is mostly territory disputes, bargaining for territory extensions or swaps with the others, all of them trying to work out strategies that benefit not only themselves but other clans as well. You keep silent throughout, listening carefully and learning, taking information and analyzing it. There must be someone Shouta doesn’t like in the meeting, because when the most important details are worked through, he excuses himself to the restroom once again.

You wonder, briefly, why he’d choose to play the same trick a second time in a row. If he does it too often his plan would become transparent, though one could argue not doing it enough would be just as easy to read. You don’t know how often he excuses himself from these meetings, so you decide to leave it in his hands.

Fortunately for you, it would seem no man here is willing to speak about your presence. It’s been almost ten minutes and none of them has said a word to or about you, choosing instead to discuss territories a bit further. Though you were beginning to question why Shouta hadn’t yet returned. Surely one would get suspicious, and one did, glancing toward the main building. It was then you all shifted your attention to Shouta, who stood at the opposite end of the bridge speaking into his phone. So that’s why he’s taking so long.

And unfortunately, that meant these men were relatively safe.

“So what’s the woman doing here?” It was barely a whisper, but you could hear it even over the sounds of the pond. A glance up shows the blonde to your right had leaned over to the man next to him. He’s much younger than the man from yesterday, maybe in his mid-late twenties, his hair clearly not natural. The one he’d whispered to flicked his gaze up, catching your own, and shouldered the blonde who subsequently looked to you. He cracks a cheeky smile, a poor attempt to cover himself really.

“Ah, Onna-oyabun, it’s good to finally see the Black Dragon’s wife-to-be.” It would seem news travels fast, and the blonde is much less bold than the older man. You crack your own smile, a sickly sweet show of teeth that hid a venomous bite.

“The woman has a name. Please, do not be afraid to use it in discussion. And I will tell you exactly what I told the previous oyabun who questioned my presence. I am here because Shouta wants me to be.” His smile doesn’t falter, but his eye visibly twitches at your response. It’s almost amusing to see his composure slip. It’s less amusing when he glances back to where Shouta is still on the phone.

“With all due respect I’m not afraid, I simply do not feel the need. And my question was not directed at you, but at my associate here.” He loops an arm over the shoulder of the man he’d asked, the dark-haired man wide-eyed and nervous. You aren’t sure how to answer his quip without rising tension, but Shouta made it clear you’re to be commanding a room just as he does, so you choose to strike a nerve and stir the pot. For added effect you let your face drop into a deadpan, tilt your chin up just a hair and glare.

“Most would feel it necessary to use a person’s name or title when discussing anything regarding them, especially in their presence. Therefore I can’t help but feel you may not have any respect for me when you clearly should.” You could see the muscles in his jaw clench as he ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring with his anger. You nearly let a smile crawl onto your face at the satisfaction of knowing you’d angered an asshole like him with only your words.

“Maybe I don’t respect you. What are you going to do about it?” The man still under his arm stiffens, a hand slapping the blonde’s chest, his eyes locked on the entrance to the room. Shouta stands there, but the blonde seems to either not notice or not care. You aren’t given time to answer his rhetorical question.

“Nothing. You can’t do a thing about it, because you hold no power over me.” He’s elbowed this time, the dark-haired man trying harder to get the blonde’s attention off of you and onto the man he should be fearing right about now. To be fair, Shouta stands almost behind the blonde, who sits to your right, so it isn’t hard to believe he doesn’t see him. You just let him dig his own grave.

“And you hold no power over me because you’re a woman. A woman out of her place and on the wrong side of business, let alone holding a rank much lower than mine.” The man beneath the blonde’s arm had given up, choosing to bow his head down and stay silent. It’s Shouta who speaks next.

“I believe it’s you who holds a much lower rank than her.” The blonde’s face goes pale, his shit-eating grin dropping faster than a sinking stone.

“In case you hadn’t heard the news yet I’ve assigned her a title, and I expect you to use it. She may have asked you to use her name, but you should address her as Onna-oyabun any time she is brought up in discussion, regardless of whether or not either of us are present.” He strides up behind you and places a hand on your bare shoulder, just like yesterday. You can’t help but feel his positioning is on purpose, physically placing you in front of him.

“Are you ready to go, little one?” You nod, rising from your seat and taking a small bow signaling your leave. Shouta lets a hand rest on your lower back, guiding you out, but you overhear the same blonde whisper under his breath. You’re definitely not meant to hear it.

“The Dragon can’t always be around to save you, brat.” You both freeze in your tracks, Shouta’s eyes wide and nostrils flaring with anger. Before he can turn to react you lean in and whisper in his ear.

“My turn.” He raises an eyebrow at you, then nods, crossing his amrs and leaning against the beam at the entrance. You pivot, pinning the blonde in place with a glare. If looks could kill, he’d be in a casket. Slowly, you begin a steady pace around the table.

“I do not rely on Shouta to help me in these situations. In fact, I could just as easily take a piece of your tongue myself.” You’re on the opposite side of the table now, still taking long, slow strides and glaring down at the man.

“But it is so glaringly obvious that you lack the same level of intelligence I hold, and therefore I would feel guilty to rob you of a muscle that you clearly haven’t learned to use properly,” you stop, standing stock still behind the blonde, “However.” In one swift movement your dagger is stuck in the wooden table directly in front of the blonde, your manicured fingers curled around the handle delicately.

“Should I hear another demeaning or degrading word out of your mouth, I will not hesitate to stain my fingers with your blood.” He doesn’t seem to be reacting at all, whether he’s afraid or not you can’t tell, but you don’t let that affect your performance. You lean in, your lips nearly grazing the shell of his ear.

“You probably wouldn’t even get to taste my blade, but I don’t mind taking my time if you want to savor the tang of steel.” You yank the blade from the wood and sheath it, straightening your posture.

“Had Shouta chosen another woman for his wife you may have been able to actually hurt her feelings with your childish words.” You turn, striding back to where Shouta holds his hand for you to take.

“Unluckily for you, I’m just as volatile as my other half. Be grateful that either of us are merciful. You get to keep your tongue. For now.” It’s cathartic, letting out your anger like that. It’s unlikely that the threat will get you any sort of respect, but fear works just as well in your favor. Respect is something hard to find and even harder earned as a woman in a man’s world, but fear works better against an enemy that dreads change. You can’t help but smirk as you walk away from the chaos you left behind, and as you glance up you see the faintest smirk worming its way onto Shouta’s face.

____

His chest swells with something akin to pride as he waltzes away from the restaurant. He was wrong to assume you were averse to violence, had taken your level-headedness and cool temperament to mean you are not a violent individual. To assume you were either incapable of violence or unable to handle the intensity was obviously a mistake on his part. Watching the blonde freeze up and pale under your hard gaze was extremely satisfying, and he had to admit seeing such controlled rage and sharp words pour from you was enjoyable and, among other things, wildly attractive.

Shouta thinks he should let you handle these situations more often, let you have your fun, maybe even plot to have you purposely go just a little too far and have him reel you back in. Maybe then people may start to understand that you aren’t to be treated lightly, you aren’t just a means to an end, just a glorified housewife. No, you’re much more than that and if it takes bloodied words and bloodier actions to get it through some thick skulls, well, he’s sure you know he’s willing to go there and farther.

But for now, he’d settle with the occasional threat of taking a body part.

____

Once again you stare out at the stars, thinking about the day’s events. You’re almost bouncing on your feet, adrenaline still flowing through your veins. You feel light now, knowing you can take control of an escalating situation. Whether or not you can do it all on your own isn’t a real question. Of course you could do it without Shouta present. His existence alone is enough to ward off any violence directed at you. But it’s your own actions that determine how people will perceive you.

You let Shouta control the first meeting incident, mostly because you had no clue what was going on and no information to work from. Now that you know Shouta is listening and that there’s a purpose behind his absence, you can use it to your advantage and weed out the worst of the bad apples. With that information, and confidence that Shouta will not reprimand you--but will in fact support you--for getting mouthy with said bad apples, you could let loose some of the rage that made your blood boil. It’s freeing, taking entitled men off their precious pedestals and knocking them down a bit.

Shouta wraps his arms around you for the third time, burying his face in your neck and breathing in your scent. He kisses you lightly, feather light presses of his lips against your skin. It really does feel good, being so close to someone.

“I thought this wasn’t becoming a habit.” You sigh and lean into him.

“I’m not quite tired. Honestly I’m thinking about today. I’m still on an adrenaline high just replaying it in my head, the thrill, being able to finally get a word in.” He chuckles, squeezing you a bit tighter to him.

“I’m going to assume you’d never really been allowed to do that sort of thing before.” You nod, a small smile curling your lips. Up until now you lacked any sort of standing or power, and the rush is amazing, for lack of better words. Shouta hums then nips at the shell of your ear, his voice sultry and deep.

“Well if you’re looking to burn energy I think I could help you with that.” Your breath hitches, not prepared for such a suggestion. For a second you believe it, believe he’s really suggesting what you think he is, but you can feel his hands moving and before you can react he’s digging his fingers into your sides, making you giggle uncontrollably.

He’s laughing with you, enjoying watching you try to squirm from his grasp. He releases you, and you run over to the bedroom and duck under the blanket in an attempt to hide, but he only laughs.

“You silly girl, now you’re trapped!” He finds your waist through the thick blanket and doesn’t relent until you’re gasping for air and crying for mercy. He stops, finally, and pulls the blanket off your head. Your face is flushed, your hair splayed wild over the sheets and your chest heaving for oxygen. For a moment his mind drifts to dirtier thoughts of a similar expression he’d like to see. He pushes those thoughts away as you beam up at him, your smile reminding him of sunshine. Rough fingers brush away the hair that had fallen over your face.

“Are you ready to try sleeping now, little one?” You lean your head into his hand, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. The way he’s gazing down at you now, you know you’d never felt so adored in your life.

“Let’s sleep.” He lies down and you get comfortable on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and wrapping your leg around his waist. His arms lock around you, holding you in place and he kisses the top of your head.

[cosmicjoke]

Have you read Saezuru 48? What are your thoughts about it?

I just finished reading it, yes!

Just for an initial impression, it seems to me like both Yashiro and Doumeki are really struggling against their actual feelings, and Yashiro in particular continues to struggle with his desire to be with Doumeki, and his fear and need to push him away. It seems to me that Yashiro is both suffering from a sense of guilt over having pushed Doumeki away, with each reminder that Doumeki was genuinely hurt by it (which I'll get into in a second), and a sense of regret and sadness for seemingly having accomplished what he originally set out to do, which was make Doumeki hate him so the separation between them would be easier for him.

I think Yashiro still genuinely believes at this point that he's alienated Doumeki. His resigned, pained expressions each time Doumeki bitterly remarks on how Yashiro ran away shows that Doumeki's anger and/or hatred toward him is deeply painful for him, because of course, Doumeki was the first and really ONLY person to ever, truly love him. So to see that he’s apparently destroyed that love, that he's seemingly succeeded in accomplishing Doumeki's resentment for him must be awful. At the same time, Yashiro accepts that resentment with a resigned sadness. I think Yashiro believes he deserves it, even as he knows he largely pushed Doumeki away to protect him. But there's Yashiro's issues with self-loathing again. He believes he's doomed to forever remain unloved, because he sees himself as a sullied, corrupting, bad person. He knows he went out of his way to make their separation as painful as possible for Doumeki in an attempt to make Doumeki forget him, but he sees now he's only done the opposite, that Doumeki still continues to be affected by him and what happened between them. This, I think, can only feed into Yashiro's feelings of self-hatred. Once again, he thinks he's done nothing but cause another person pain and misery, even though he'd been trying to do the right thing.

I wasn't sure at first if Doumeki was acting so distant because he was trying to get something out of Yashiro, or if he was just truly hurt and acting out on those feelings. But I'm starting to think Doumeki really is just hurt, and the dumb dumb is too caught up in those feelings to see how much Yashiro actually still cares for him. He's deeply jealous of Inami, and wants Yashiro to stop seeing him, even as it's obvious to the reader that Inami means nothing to Yashiro. Doumeki doesn't know that.

Basically, both of them are laboring under false impressions of the other. Both of them think the other doesn't care for them the way they once did. Yashiro thinks Doumeki hates him now because of the way he pushed him away in the past, and Doumeki maybe still thinks Yashiro never cared for him at all. Essentially, in order for this to work itself out, they're both going to have to come clean with one another, and stop being so stubborn.

Yashiro almost tells Doumeki at the end of the chapter that Inami doesn't mean anything to him, but then chickens out. I think he's afraid that if he tells Doumeki how he really feels, Doumeki will reject him anyway, because, again, Doumeki is acting like he hates Yashiro now. And Doumeki is acting that way because he in turn is afraid Yashiro will reject him again. It's like a vicious cycle. Someone's going to have to step up and just be honest. At this point, I really can't say who that's going to be.

It'll be interesting though what happens next chapter. With Yashiro and Doumeki alone together in Yashiro's apartment, it will give them the perfect opportunity to just level with one another. I hope they do.

Also, I just wanted to make mention of Yashiro’s internal thoughts about Misumi, once again.  We continue to see Yashiro’s resentment of Misumi in trying to force him to stay connected to the world of the Yakuza, which once again makes me think that Misumi is going to end up playing a big factor in the story at some point.  Yashiro wants to get out of that world, but Misumi won’t let him.  Maybe Yashiro’s insistence on being involved in this case with the Sakura group is him rebelling against Misumi.  I doubt Misumi would actually want Yashiro involved, due to the level of danger.  There’s also the possibility that Yashiro is still suicidal, and he thinks the only way to escape Misumi and the world of the Yakuza is like this, by purposefully placing himself into dangerous situations in the hopes of getting killed.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : i need you

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : ryuji goda x reader

— summary : convincing ryuji of doing the opposite of what he’s set out to do is a pointless task, yet you will attempt if it gives him even one more day.

— warnings : blood, mentions of violence, some swearing, mentions of imagining of death, angst

notes : inspired by a prompt from here .. i had to do a self indulgent thingy for tumblr .. because why did they have to kill him off like that .. i tried to be dramatic as i possibly could

" none of this would've happened if you had just listened! "

A muffled silence drowns your hearing, the spinning of the Earth decelerates until it feels little more than a crawl with a weak grip. Rough cement scrapes the smoothness of your knee, leaving an angry blemish as grit fights to find its way into your bleeding wounds. No graze can pull you out of the deep end your heart finds itself fighting to stay above of, as you witness your worst fear painted perfectly on a canvas steeped in blood. The stillness of the air leaves you feeling flustered as your mind tries to make sense of what it observes before it, hoping that it’s no more than a deceptive trick played on itself by the fear you felt as you made your way up the tall structure.

A romantic thread of words have never failed in supply, but words left unsaid threaten to crush you under their weight, lost moments to time. A shudder of a breath shakily is let out, the cold air kick starts your body as you push yourself up and scramble to where the battered and bloodied body of Ryuji lays, almost motionless in pain. A childish cry to wake up from this nightmare is all you can think of, but reality does not bend to the whims of humanity, it continues with the path it has set. Resentfully, you can see the similarity that it shares with the male.

“ none of this would've happened if you had just listened! “ A broken cry full of fiery misery lick at the delicate snowflakes that descend from the heavens with a short lived grace, full of threats to burn as they penetrate your space.

The shock of the vibrancy of the liquid that escapes Ryuji leaves time standing still, you care not however, your fingertips gripping a heavy shoulder as the other lends a gentle touch to his cheek. Pain and grief masks itself as anger. You sorely wish to blame someone or something, but you had warned him.. You’d tried to reason with him that this course he’d set would leave him chasing an unattainable taste of sweetness of satisfaction that would dull with each day that dawns. A strong will that had left you in an addictive awe leaves you with a decaying taste in your mouth now, it creates an impossible amount of scars on your soul.

“ ‘Guess I should’a listened to ‘ya after all. “ He reluctantly answers, the humour unable to battle the drain out of his voice completely.

“ Why couldn’t you have just let this lie? “ A ticking pulls your attention away for a fraction of a passing second, a groan causes you to turn back.

“ Was always gonna end this way. “

A weakened grip that belongs to Ryuji ignores the resistance from his body, enduring the pain from the movement in order to experience skin against skin contact for himself once more. He wishes he could have found it within himself to have turned left, but he’d have lost himself without this self imposed purpose, fading into the background. It was selfish, to bring you into his world.. But to him? You’re an unfinished book, your words inked with glittering star dust that etch themselves into existence. He was unable to tear him away from your pages that you may have worn like wings. Selfish. To know how his story would end, yet knowing he would not be around for yours.

“ No. “ Your lips close, pushing against each other to numb the other, your features twisting into an aching grimace.

“ Can’t stop it now. “ he insists, brows drawing together as he scrunches his eyes up from the agony that throbs through every inch of flesh. “ Shit’s set in stone now. “

“ Stop it! “ You sob, hating how vulnerable you sound.

There is a sorrowful beauty in the scene, notes Ryuji. Pale beams of moonlight triumphant until the point of reaching your body that blocks it. Leaving no more than a radiant glow surrounding your head, providing an inhuman glow that illuminates your body as much as your soul — a wistful image that he’s glad to witness once more. Your being here is something of a majestic collision into a door to his person he’d fought to keep locked, if this is a departing gift he would gladly take it. He’d thought the last time he saw you would be when he unwillingly shared his plan, should this ending occur, he could take comfort in there not being a picture of you waiting at the door waiting for the other half of you to walk through the door, only to be met with a crushing realisation of never seeing him again. Only, he’d not expected you to follow in his tracks, not after he’s ignored your pleas of turning away from this path.

“ Ya better get outta here, ‘place is gonna blow soon. “

“ Not without you. “ you argue, refusing his direction — your grip strengthens ever so slightly, fearing the winter breeze has the power to boldly grow and tear you away from the man.

“ Ya got’a whole life ahead of ya. “ A twist of his heart is the dominant sensation he notices at the thought.

He wishes he could be there for it, to see the petals of your success bloom in the depths of your determination. One thing he could never understand was how, despite the tainted reputation that follows him like a shadow, never had been enough to put you off. Not a criminal tie to your name and you voluntarily merged your time and energy with his, with little care. Perhaps that’s where an addiction to his selfishness began. All his life and his Yakuza connections secluded him from genuine human connections and you’d trampled all over that with your impartial view. Many would prefer to cower in their fear, you’d scratched past the surface to see who he could be capable of being.

All the time spent together, and yet he still craves more. To linger in your orbit, time is his nemesis — for he still feels as if there has not been enough. Not the hours spent with the sun setting and you’re there by his side, when he’d spent more time committing the wonder at such a simple thing to his memory. Not the darkened hours spent together surrounded by silken sheets, and all that graced his ears was a musical symphony of breathy moans as you set about learning each other’s bodies. Never were the hours spent talking in order to hear the passion in your voice when speaking about something that interests you enough for him.

“ You can’t do this. “ You whimper softly, almost looking through the man you hold close. “ You can’t come into someone’s life, you can’t make them care about you and leave just because you want to. What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to sit by and let you do this? “

He says nothing, leaving space for a groan of pain to leave his lips as he tips his head back. He’s met with a darkened blanket where millions of stars are scattered so ungracefully, yet do not collide an uncoordinated dance across the sky. Uncertainty overwhelms him, over that is causing more pain — the wounds or the grief in your every word.

“ Just get the fuck outta here already. “ His voice echoes across the large space as he turns his attention back to you.

“ Were you lying all that time? “ You ask with a trembling lip at the thought of being without.

It feels like an endless amount of early mornings had been spent planning and chattering about the most random things. Your mind lighting up with the power of a thousand suns before the world had awoken around you. You can’t pinpoint the moment it happened, but the two of you awoke a little earlier than necessary to bathe in the image of the other — to forge a most perfect illusion of normalcy before stepping out into the real world. Mornings were not your most happiest bedfellow, yet you’d grown to love them just a little more when waking to the most simplest treat to sweeten your tongue.

“ What ya on about? “

“ All that time when we were talking, about what we were going to do? What we could do? ”

“ Why ya going on about that ? “ He asks curiously, eyeing you as you speak.

“ If you die, how are we meant to do any of it? “ Your words are rushed as you question him plainly.

“ Yer gonna .. just won’t be with me. “ Colour from the world feels as if it’s fading, merging into one bland monochrome depiction of a bright, bubbling city.

“ Can you stop?! “ A frustrated shriek tears from the bottom of your throat in response. “ I’m done talking in circles, I’m not dying here and neither are you. If I have to, I will drag you out with me. “

The world pauses in shock for a quiet fraction of a minute. To be spoken to in such a manner is not something Ryuji has experienced much in his life, even rarer by you — words that fell from your lips are always bathed in the sweetness of sugar, not an ounce of poison to anyone. Even the individuals who drew your temper out of its sleep were met with an incredible amount of restraint, he can hear the desperation — acting as a bucket of ice water to shock his nerve endings from the low temperature.

“ You did what you had to do. It wasn’t meant to be, but you can find another purpose. Build something else with your life, just.. Just come with me. Please. “

To be responsible for dragging you down with him, away from providing the world with your bright rays of sunshine in the bland day to day lives of everyone you came into contact with weighs heavily on his chest. Extra time spent with you, perhaps getting to know who his little sister has become are the treats tied onto a stick in front of him, life’s cruel bribe. He’d imagined how his ending would have been sketched by above, yet to have ties keeping him there had not been what he would have included. If he couldn’t be the one dragon, this would be a consolation prize that would allow for the petals of peace to bloom before he’d tear them down once more.

A strength he’d thought abandoned him glows with a dull hue, for a minute, he contemplates using that for Kiryu. Yet the other half of his soul wins the battle, a hand of his reaches out to push himself off from the concrete. It’s not an easy feat after being battered more than once, yet it’s not half as arduous as it could be with you supporting his weight — he’s fully aware how much of your strength he is using from your audible gasps of air.

“ Ya don’t gotta yell at me. “ he complains softly as he grips his side with as much force as he can dedicate to.

“ I don’t think it’s the time for this. “ You argue back quickly.

“ The red one. “

“ Huh? “ The sound escapes you as your features turn into a frown over how to get away from the ticking time bomb fast enough.

“ The lift, to get down. Press th’red one. “ He instructs you with a finger barely lifted, pointing in the direction of the button behind you.

You say nothing in response, the wheels in your mind working faster than your body as it moves purely on an instinctive reaction when receiving messages from your brain. Your stomach twists and turns from the descent to below, unable to process the way the city shifts into a state of obscurity from the swift movement. It would be a beautiful sight if it hadn’t attached a violent night as a parting gift.

“ You really scared me up there. “ You confess with barely a whisper. “ Can you promise me something? “

“ What’s that? “

“ That you won’t do something like this again. “ You say, with your heart hoping that he’d shy away from an impossible task should it present itself. Your eyes had seen enough hurt for one night, you’re confident you’d not be able to withstand it once more.

“ Wish I could. “

Teeth grind against the bottom of your lip, you should have known that he wouldn’t. Yet you also cannot find the strength to tear yourself away from the fire that burns within him, like a moth to a flame, you find yourself wondering how close you can stand against the heat before you flee from the pain it brings.

[kino-alternative]

“ To Be Someone ”

|| Hajime Hinata X Gender Neutral!Reader ||

❀ There he stood, staring at the huge building in front of him. The building in front of him was Hope's Peak Academy, the school of the talented and gifted.

From sports stars, singers, musicians to something as big as a yakuza, princess, heck- even something as complicated as luck. Those that excel at their own specific talent that no average person could reach are called an Ultimate.

That's what Hajime Hinata dreamed to be. Someone with an ultimate. Someone with talent. To be someone. Though, he is nothing but an average, normal, talentless and good for nothing reserve course student. That was him. He was nobody. A nobody who could only dream.

Hajime gripped on the strap of his bag as his eyebrows furrowed. Just dreaming. A dream that won't become reality. He turned around, looking at the ground as he began to walk away from the main building.

As he continued to walk to the Reserve Course Department, someone else passed by him and headed to the main building. Hajime stopped his tracks and turned his head to look behind him. Sakura petals blocked his view. The only thing he could see was the main building uniform and the keychain clipped onto their bag.

Soon enough, the person disappeared from sight when the gates closed. Hajime continued to stare, his eyes glistened before tearing away his gaze and walking back to his original destination.

❀ Leaning on the bench of the park located in between the two schools, Hajime let out a long sigh of exhaustion. Throwing his head back, he admired the orange-red-yellow mixed sky. It was quiet. No one really went to the park since the talentless and talented refused to meet each other.. or something like that.

Huh? what was that? Is that... Is someone humming? Before Hajime could even lift his head, he gave in. He couldn't help but let himself relax to it. It was soothing and comforting. Like most sappy writers describe, it felt like a warm hug or being cradled gently like a baby.

Bringing himself back to reality, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. He then turned around to look behind him. There, he spotted a familiar looking keychain and the main building uniform. This was the person from before. What were they doing here?

The person opened their eyes, revealing a (E/C} color. They stared right back at him, their humming stopped as silence once again returned. Both took this as their chance to get a better look of the other.

They opened their mouth, their eyebrows raised "You're...The boy from before, right?" Hajime slowly nodded, almost hesitantly "Y-Yeah.. Are you..?" He trailed off once they answered with a nod as well. The boy thought for a moment. He wanted to ask them something but wasn't quite sure if it's okay.

After debating in his head and listing the cons and pros, he opened his mouth and asked "If you don't mind me asking...What were you doing at the Reserve Course Department?" Dang it. That came out rude.

They didn't seem to pay any mind to it and furrowed their eyebrows, a smile forming on their face. "You want to be an Ultimate someday... Right?" Before he could respond to their rather true assumption, they added on "The same goes for me...Just the exact opposite of what you want to be"

Opposite? "The exact opposite of what I want to be...?" Hajime slowly repeated as he processed their answer. The gears in his head started to turn when it clicked, his eyes slowly widening while at it. "You... Want to be a Reserve Course Student?"

They nodded.

He was confused.

"Why-" "Maybe some other time" They cut him off, standing up from their seat and grabbing their bag as they put their earphones and phone away. They began to walk back to the main department, stopping for a moment and looking at the brunette. Raising their hand and smiling, they said "See ya! Oh, and don't forget to tell me your name, alright?"

Before the boy could even utter a word or sound, the same kind of petals once again blocked his view. And once they were out of his sight, the person was already gone.

Hajime didn't noticed until now that his hand was reached out. He looked at it and stared at his palm. The exact opposite of what he wanted to be. That was their reasoning.

Unlike him, a person who wishes to have talent... Wishes to be someone special... They want to be a person who has no talent? Do they wish to be someone ordinary?

❀ Back in front of the gates of Hope's Peak Academy. Hajime sighed, lowering his head. He still didn't quite understood why the person wanted to be like him. To be nobody.

"Ah, so you are here" He flinched and immediately turned around. There standing with their usual smile was the person themselves. They raised their hand, waved it "Hey" "S-Sorry.. Er.." That's right. They still haven't introduced to each other.

The person then walked to his side, staring at the main building. Though, unlike him, their eyes weren't filled with any positive emotions or even a tiny bit of admiration. It was just blank. No interest whatsoever.

He wonders why that is.

"We haven't introduced to each other yet, right?" They asked, their eyes now staring at his. Hajime blinked and nodded "Yeah.." The person faced him, pointing a finger at themselves, "I'm Y/N L/N, Ultimate Music Writer" They held out their hand for him to take and shake.

Hajime smiled awkwardly and took their hand "I'm Hajime Hinata. Reserve Course Student"

Their hand was warm/cold. How comforting.

"Well, Hajime, I don't normally go to class... Do you have enough time left before school starts?" Y/N asked with a tilt of their head, their eyebrows raising. Hajime pulled out his phone and pressed the on button, his screen opening and there said the time. Oh, he was- An hour early!? Since when!?

He decided not to ask and simply nodded at the person, "Yeah. At the park?" He asked back. They grinned and turned around, "Mhmm, c'mon"

The walk there was filled with small talk, just to ease the tension just a bit and get to know each other. Asking the basic questions, what do you like to do? Any hobbies? Etc...

Although Hajime - he believes - had pretty basic answers, Y/N didn't seem to mind at all and continued on.

Once they get to their destination, they sat on one of the benches.

Hajime glanced at them for a split second before looking at the fountain. He decided to think and zone out for a bit. Asking questions to himself as he pondered...

Is it okay for me to ask them?

Is it too early?

Before his thoughts could fully consume him, his mouth open and said on it's own "You don't have to tell me now. I think we should try to get each other first" Y/N stared at him , their eyes slightly wide. Ah, they didn't expect that. Neither did Hajime himself.

Y/N had a smile, a smile that you could tell was relief. Relief of not having to tell something you don't want to. They closed their eyes and thanked the brunette, "Agreed. Thanks"

Hajime couldn't help but smile back as well. Relief of not choosing/saying the wrong thing. "So, you were saying?" He asked with a tone to signal them. With that, the subject changed as the ultimate rambled "Oh! Right! Apparently, that wasn't the actual-"

❀ Everyday. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. They would meet at the park. The place that stored many memories between the two opposite students from the two different buildings. They would laugh. They would fight. They would vent. They would even stay quiet and still managed to enjoy their time together.

They would be there for the other when they need them most.

"Ah, there you are" Y/N smiled as they raised and turned their from the phone in their hands to the brunette walking towards them. They let out a hum. A hum that signals that they knew what the other was feeling. They set their phone down and asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Hajime, despite the fake smile on his face, knew better than to lie to them. Especially since the two have been best friends for a while now. Although he doesn't want to bother them, he was quite glad that someone asked him and actually sounded genuinely concern.

The boy sat down beside them, throwing his head back as he closed his eyes. With a sigh, he said "The leaves are green" That, indeed, was true. Y/N tilted their head, nodding slowly, "I see... Who or what? Why?" But to them, that meant something else.

As cheesy as it sounds, the music writer once told him that they had an idea. Specifically, signal ideas. Hajime, of course, thought it wasn't necessary but did so anyway. He thought he wouldn't need to use the them but they were, in fact, useful at most situations.

The one he just used now, meant envy and or jealousy.

"..." He stayed silent at first, having second thoughts before saying what he had on his mind. His thoughts and feelings. "This is gonna sound very stupid... And probably getting annoying but.. I guess I'm just really jealous of you"

Y/N blinked, "Me?" They didn't sound offended. They sounded more... Confused than anything. Which Hajime was thankful for since he didn't want to offend them in any way.

"An Ultimate. Someone that excels at a specific thing and an even higher than actual professionals.. Talent, basically" He smiled. A sad one. "The usual, you know?.."

"..."

Y/N stayed silent as they leaned on the bench, throwing their head back as well with their eyes closed. Hajime's, now open, eyes looked at them with a lift of his head. It looked like they were stuck in their mind.

It wasn't unusual, so he patiently waited.

""Maybe some other time", that's what I said when we first met, right?" They suddenly asked, which kind of startled him. Hajime fully lofted his head and shifted slightly in his seat to look at them despite their closed eyes. "Yeah.."

"I wanted to be free. Free from everyone's expectations. Free from my title" They stared back at him, noticing how he was closely listening to what they were saying. "To be someone who could just do what they want and who they want to be. To be someone even without talent. Because to me, talent isn't the only way that makes you someone or special"

They smiled and lifted their head, hands on their knees as they looked at the brunette. "To me, everyone is their own person and special in their own way. Talent or none" They grinned, their eyes closed as they exclaimed "And to me, Hajime Hinata is special and an ultimate in his own way"

Hajime stared at them, his eyes widening. Before he knew it, his face was red and his heart was pounding. Flustered. Touched. He felt... Special. Just by hearing them say it.

He cools down, his cheeks are still have a visible pink color on them. A smile made it's way on his face. Ah, so that's their reason.

"Oh, I was going to tell you more but it seems like time passes by rather quickly" Y/N pointed at the time on their phone. Hajime snapped out of his trance, eyebrows raised as he asked "Huh? What were you-"

Before he could continue, they stood up from the bench and looked down at the brunette. With their hand raised and waving, they said those words "Maybe some other time" And with that, they left.

Hajime watched them disappear from sight. He blinked before putting his hand down and smiled softly. He stood up from the bench and began to take his leave as well.

He understood what they meant. So now looking forward, he was taking his first step of not having to worry about becoming someone. Because now... Talent or talentless... Everyone is their own person, special in their own way.

[dangan-imagine-plus]

Hello! Could you please do something for Fuyuhiko, Gundham, Kokichi and Shuichi? Getting protective/defensive over a shy and timid fem reader. Thank you!

warnings: Swearing and mentions of being hit on by people unconsenually.

First imagine on this blog! Hope you like it! Sorry it took so long, accidentally got distracted 😅. I’m also sorry but for not doing Shuichi but I couldn’t imagine him being that assertive, however you can send it back in with only Shuichi and maybe one of the other mods will do it. -Mod Ouma 💜

Fuyuhiko Kuzuruya 

You and Fuyuhiko are an interesting match-up: a quiet shy girl and a loud angry yakuza, needless to say people were surprised by your relationship, but you two were happy so no one really made any comments, especially because this is Fuyuhiko we’re talking about.

Fuyuhiko honestly tries to keep you away from everything that could frighten you or hurt you in any way. Enlisting Peko when he couldn’t be around or when both of them were busy, getting his most trusted bodyguard to look after you. He loves you more than he could ever admit to your face but he shows that in protection and his own special way.

Today you guys went to a new amusement park that showed up for an event, -you had to beg Fuyuhiko to go- and you saw a stuffed animal that you just HAD to have. So as the strong boyfriend he was, he decided he would win it for you.

This particular day Fuyuhiko didn’t employ bodyguards to look over you because, “I’m the ultimate yakuza damnit and I’ll be damned if I can’t protect you myself.” Just one problem, some creepy man had noticed you and started commenting on your looks when Fuyuhiko was busy.

The vendor had handed your boyfriend the plush and he turned around, the sight that greeted him, filling him with anger. You being almost cornered by this guy, looking obviously highly uncomfortable but too timid to reject most of his advances.

What really pushed him over the edge is the man's hand on your arm, while he said a sexual pickup line.

“OI! DIPSHIT! Get Your Fucking Hand OFF OF HER!!!” This boy is pissed. The man just bent down and retorted “Didn’t you ever learn to respect your elders little boy?”

Fuyuhiko while fuming, kicked the man in one of his kneecaps then as the man fell to the ground he grabbed your arm putting you behind him (despite your height). He got out his phone and made a call, almost instantaneously Peko arrived and you two walked out of the festival.

“Fucking hell, The Fucking Audacity Of Some Dickheads!!!” Needs you to calm him down, hold his arm, too angry for an actual hug.

Gundham Tanaka 

Gundham isn’t afraid to challenge someone or speak up, so whenever you need it he’s there. Additionally with his mindset, Gundham genuinely believes that you two are royalty to the dark world and he will do anything to protect his queen, whether that includes speaking for you, help build confidence or keeping you as safe and protected as a royal should be without overwhelming you too much. 

You personally weren’t an ultimate but that doesn’t mean Tanaka would treat you any differently, he actually found it quite nice, usually his class would be in all types of trouble, so being able to be with someone who is naturally calm and doesn’t cause much a ruckus is perfect for him, and he loves to relax with you, especially after a long day.

Gundham once warmed up, likes talking about his problems and what happened that day. That means you always have an interesting story which always interests you, but listening to these stories makes you want to experience them. Asking Gundham to accompany him to school one day was easy but the convincing was a little harder as he knew that you might get hurt or have something happen to you so naturally he was apprehensive.

“My dark queen, the mortal class I reside in is not one that fits the requirements for your godly presence. It will be worse than the 4th layer of hell, I shall not taint your beauty with mortal ignorance.”

However after enough reassurance he eventually let you come with him, of course checking with hope’s peak first. As you know though, Hope's peak will do anything to further the students talents so if you help him do that, then they will let you there any day. 

When you first got there, all the girls gawked over you and asked how Gundham got someone so level headed and pretty, a little jealousy from Sonia, but she seemed to get over it pretty quickly. Gundham had to pull you away from the crowd before you got too overwhelmed however and the problem started with the perverts.

“Bonjour sweet cupcake, would you like to take a dip in my fros-” Teruteru gets punched in the face as he tries to flirt with you by Hiyoko. “You’re hotter than a malfunctioning engine.” Soda pipes in before Gundham pulls you away from them both towards the door.

 “If you mere mortals cannot respect my lady then we shall vacate the filthy premises.” He stops, lets go of your hand and gets real close to the two boys “If I shall witness thee talk about the queen of darkness again, my twelve zodiac generals will teach you fowl perverts a great lesson about respect.”

Kokichi Ouma 

A shy and timid S/O, oh you mean a perfect teasing buddy. Seriously he will do lots for the sole purpose of making you flustered, however he’s the only one allowed to do so. If anyone (namely Miu) tries to do anything like that ooh boy will it be a messy situation. Lots of insults and bad (like mentally hurting) pranks thrown their way. 

However if you are in a relationship with this man, especially if he trusts you, he will protect you, lie for you, talk for you and really do anything for you. Lets be honest here, no one really expected you two to be together, with all the flirting with Saihara most if not all just assumed he was gay. That paired with your personality really shocked everyone, it just didn't seem very likely.

He tried to keep your relationship private because of multiple factors whether that be safety from the danger of the organization, because he most likely has enemies. Personal image, not that that matters more than you, but as the ultimate supreme leader he can’t be seen as weak or soft. Kokichi also didn’t want to be put in a position where he had to choose you or something else, so be patient, a relationship with Kokichi isn’t going to be easy. That’s why he loves you even more, because you still stay with him despite all this.

(Sorry got off track there)

 Nonetheless it got out and people knew now. Kokichi likes PDA, mostly for showing everyone who you “belong” to, since they know of your relationship. God forbid someone flirt with you, Kokichi gets really mad at the person and though he doesn't show it too much, he will insult and mess with the person so much mentally, it’s not fun at all.

This showed especially one day when you were at lunch waiting for Kokichi in both of your free periods, a DICE rival they pranked one too many times. He came up to you sitting down and pretty obviously bad mouthing Kokichi, trying to convince you, he could give you so much more than Kokichi ever could, and that he’d never hide you. 

Kokichi however had just walked into earshot of the dude, catching every word and getting extremely upset, part of him wondering if that was true, could he really give you more than the supreme leader. Besides what he was wondering, he also saw you, extremely uncomfortable looking like a bunny being hunted by a predator. Trying to inch your way away from him, choosing to stay silent, but the boy just wouldn’t give up, moving closer and upping the ‘dump him, date me’ talk. 

Kokichi calmly walked over, grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him, landing you in his chest, looking at the male with an unexplainable expression. Looking back to you he said “Crackerjack, you know, talking to shit eating toilets isn’t sanitary.” he turned to the man, face darkened, grin widened and the iconic finger over his mouth. “I hope you choke on the shit you talk, fucking hoe.”

[snuggetfish]

Hi :) what do you think majima, at the age he is now, would be like if he had a crush on someone? Namely, someone who he has slowly gotten to know better over time.

Hi there! This is a great topic and I spent some time really considering it. Usually when I talk about Majima, I’m referring to him in either his 20s or early/mid 40s, but of course we know he’s aged quite a bit in the canon timeline since then! 

So then, how a Majima who’s turning 57 this year would handle catching feelings for someone... 👀 Spoilers for Y5 and Y7!

I’m going to go on a bit of a tangent first to argue why I think that loneliness hits older Majima all the harder. In Y5 it was heartbreaking to see was just how much aging affects him, physically but also emotionally. 

During his last meal and batting cages scene with Saejima, the anguish surfaces so clearly: this whole time the clan was his chosen path, an escape from all the other aspects of his life that crumbled around him: love, family, even friendship. And now the very concept of yakuza is changing, fresh blood is coming to replace him. He's growing old, his eyesight going, in his only good eye no less, threatening to really make the world as dark as it was in the Hole. And if Saejima goes back to prison, if the clan dissolves... what is he left with?

So while Majima could previously push all these feelings away and fill in the gaps with more crazy, the trick stops working after a while... His need for companionship grows and he appreciates real human connections a lot more. He’s more inclined to be vulnerable around those he trusts and this would include a love interest. Now, once he realizes he’s falling for them, I think his first instinct would still be to push away... But if they show even a bit of interest and determination to pursue him, he’d give in a lot more easily than in the past.

It wouldn’t just be out of loneliness though. As of Y7, both of Japan’s top yakuza clans are disbanded and the old guard is being forced to adapt to a new era... Majima’s back to being a civilian, still working in a “grey area” of society, but without the mortal danger constantly looming over his life and over any potential partner’s life. Sure he’s still got plenty of energy and appetite for violence, but he’s undeniably slowing down... retiring I suppose? He’d never admit it, but something about the idea of sleeping in every morning, peacefully curled up in someone’s arms, just sounds so good... ���

And if it’s someone he’s become attached to gradually, over time, it really wouldn’t be just infatuation or a lust-filled fantasy. They’ve shown that they’re not scared of his reputation and wouldn’t judge him if he were to open up his heart... so maybe they’re also willing to stay by his side.

In terms of how Majima would go about communicating these feelings... I think he’d ask them up front for a date, plain and simple. Despite the butterflies in his stomach, he’s lived long enough to have lost patience for elaborate games. If he’s really getting another chance at love, then he’s gonna want to do it right. He might even come across as a bit old-fashioned, because, well, he is old and his ideas of “proper” romance are a perhaps a little cliche. He doesn’t hide who he is - an eccentric kinda guy - but he puts in the effort to show he cares. A flower or a gift for the first date, a hand-written letter turning up at their door one day supposedly because he “hates texting”... cheesy wooing tactics that nevertheless feel boy-ish, even in spite of his years 💙

Of course I realize I’m typing this all as someone who isn’t event half Majima’s age. I know I probably lack the life experience to truly get into his head, but I’d like to think that as an older adult you’re just... you, the same core, but with more stories to tell and a better grasp on what you want from life. And that’s how I see him as well.

Thank you for the question, anon! 💙💙💙

[bi-naesala]

Demonstration

Fandom: Yakuza Rating: E Warnings: / Relationships: Kasuga Ichiban/Zhao Tianyou Characters: Kasuga Ichiban, Zhao Tianyou Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship, Rough Sex, First Time Bottoming, Nonbinary Zhao Tianyou Summary:

Ichiban demonstrates to Zhao how he felt about him the first time they met.

(Also on AO3)

Every time Ichiban and Zhao have been intimate, they’ve always kept things quite simple, gentle even.

They never thought about it too much; it’s just that they enjoy each other, nothing more, and they don’t really care about what they do, as long as they are together and have both a good time.

It’s almost weird considering how their first meeting went. Of all things, Ichiban would’ve never imagined that he was going to end together to the person who threatened to kill him with a smile on their face, but so is life, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

“Oooooi earth to Kasuga-kun!”

Contrary to what Zhao might believe, Ichiban doesn’t jump hearing their voice calling out for him. Nope. Not at all.

“H-Hey! Zhao! What is it?”

Zhao shoots him an unimpressed look. “You haven’t been listening to a word I said, haven’t you?”

“Huh…” Ichiban smartly replies. “Sorry?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Zhao mutters, shaking his head, but despite their words, there’s a smile on his face, finding Ichiban’s behavior endearing. “And what were you thinking about that was so important that you’d stop in the middle of the street like a lunatic?”

Oh right! They went out grocery shopping for the barkeep. And here Kasuga was, lost in his thoughts…

“Oh, nothing much, really…”

“C’mon, I’m curious now. Pretty please tell me?” Zhao insists. Oh hell, Ichiban can’t resist that tone of his.

  “Just… Wait,” he mutters, taking Zhao by the arm and guiding him away from the main road, entering in one of the smaller streets. If he truly has to answer to Zhao, he’d rather do it in a place where they can get a modicum of privacy, which would usually be at Survive, but this is close enough. At least there’s nobody there for the moment.

Zhao hasn’t said anything about Ichiban’s behavior, not even a little word of teasing, for which he’s grateful for.

“Should I get worried?” he asks though. Considering how Ichiban’s acting, it would be safe to assume that this is something serious.

“Oh? Oh no! Not at all!” Ichiban’s quick to reassure him. “I was just thinking about… well… about us.”

Now Zhao looks extremely curious. “Us? And what about us were you thinking about?”

“About how funny it is that we ended up together, considering how we met and what I thought of you…”

“Ooh?” Zhao perks up. “And what did you think of me?”

Were their relationship still in its early stages, Ichiban might’ve felt so embarrassed about what he’s about to say that he would’ve tried to find an excuse not to reply, but now he replies calmly, accepting the challenge hidden in Zhao’s tone: he uses his bigger stature to tower over the other, reveling in the shiver Zhao isn’t able to suppress at the motion - though they don’t look intimidated at all.

“That you needed to be put in your place,” he growls then, voice low and gaze dark.

“Ohohohoh~” Zhao’s voice sounds more like it did when they first met: dangerous. “That so?”

Ichiban nods.

“Well then…”

Zhao stretches a hand towards their partner, cupping his cheek. “Feel free to put me in my place anytime.”

Oh, he’s into it. Ichiban can tell. Those glasses of theirs can’t hide shit from him, not when he knows them so well; there’s no other way he can interpret the shine in his eyes.

    After that revelation, of course, Ichiban hasn’t had a way to clear his mind enough to think about anything else that isn’t him putting Zhao right where he wants to and taking him the way they deserve.

How are they supposed to do it, though? They share a room with so many other people that they can't possibly put themselves in a situation where they would most likely traumatize someone!

This requires a solution, because as much as Ichiban could easily let this go and wait for the proper occasion, he has no idea how long that would take, and he wants it so bad. Usually, in the bedroom, Zhao’s the one leading, so changing things sounds very interesting, and Ichiban can’t deny that he’s curious to see Zhao’s reaction if he lets him get away with what he wants to do, so no, he can’t wait at all.

  Mmmh what to do…

Wait! He's just got an idea that might work!

    It’s harder than he thought having to save money, since he’s an impulsive buyer, but he manages because this is too important for him to ruin everything. Thankfully he makes enough as Ichiban Holdings’ CEO that in about a month he’s managed to get enough so that he can finally put his plan into motion.

What does his plan consist of? Renting a room at a love hotel, of course! Yeah, it doesn’t sound that fancy, especially considering that Ichiban’s been saving for this, but hey it’s not like he swims in money! Neither of them does!

At least like this they can be as rough and loud as they want to and, especially, they won’t have to be quick, because nobody’s supposed to walk into them when they least expect it.

  It takes him nothing to convince Zhao. They’re on board as soon as he mentions the love hotel part.

“Oh yes please,” they say, and is Ichiban dreaming things, or does he sound very eager? Eh, he supposes he’s been waiting for this for a while - though if they have, why hasn’t he ever mentioned it?

  During their ride - there’s no way they were going to walk all the way there, so they’ve taken a cab - Zhao hasn’t pulled away from Ichiban not even once, holding his arm tightly and whispering pure filth in his ear.

“I bet you can’t wait for it, can’t you? Are you going to make me scream? Are you going to make me beg for it? How long ‘till I’ll be able to walk again?”

On his part, Ichiban does his best to ignore what they say, even if the more time passes, the more difficult it becomes, especially when Zhao begins to lavish at his neck, like they’re not sitting inside a taxi and there isn’t a clearly uncomfortable driver.

“Z-Zhao… Please, not here…”

In response Zhao looks at him with such an innocent gaze that it almost makes Ichiban believe that he truly doesn’t know what they’re doing wrong. Ass.

  At least after that they calm down, not trying to rile Ichiban up anymore. Not that they needed to continue, since he did manage to get Ichiban going, even though there’s nothing he can do about it at the moment. Once they get to the hotel, though…

Ah. So this is why Zhao’s been acting the way they were acting: getting Ichiban so riled up that as soon as they were alone, he was going to explode.

Well, if that’s what Zhao wants, then Ichiban will give it to him, and with interests…

    Ichiban might be moving things along a bit too fast once they get to the love hotel, to the point that once he gets the key to their room, he almost runs towards it. He doesn’t only because he doesn’t want to appear too eager, though by the way Zhao’s looking at him, they must’ve caught it either way.

  Once they’re inside, they take a moment to study their surroundings. Huh, classic love hotel stuff: tacky pink everywhere, enormous bed, even bigger mirror, cabinet with lube and condoms… yes, the usual. Not that Ichiban has been to many love hotels…

He gets distracted when Zhao presses against him, circling his back with their arms. “Soooo Ichi, how are we going to do this?”

Seeing that Ichiban doesn’t reply, he begins kissing up from his neck to the corner of his mouth. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

  Before he can react, Ichiban grabs him by the waist and throws him on the bed, making him land with a loud oof.

“Hey, what the hell?!”

Before Zhao can complain further, Ichiban has found his place between his legs, pressing him against the bed.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, grabbing Zhao’s chin with a hand, sending a shiver across their spine.

“Huh-huh,” Zhao nods, looking at Ichiban with feverish eyes.

Oh god, they’re already get going… and Ichiban would lie if he said that this isn’t having an effect on him as well.

  He kisses Zhao hard, forcing their lips open with his tongue. The objective is to be as overwhelming as possible and, judging by the way Zhao is holding onto him, he must be doing a good job at it.

When they pull away, Zhao’s already panting hard, and his face looks even more debauched with the glasses that are threatening to slip off at any second. Ichiban takes hold of them and puts them aside, so that they won’t risk bending or breaking them - that would certainly be a mood killer.

He licks Zhao’s lips, taking then their lower lip and sucking, before biting it. Zhao gasp, body twitching against Ichiban.

“That all you thought about when you saw me? Kissing me?” they provoke Ichiban then, even though his voice doesn’t sound as confident as they’d like to appear.

In response, Ichiban grabs Zhao’s shirt and rips it open, making the other gasp as buttons come fly all over the place. Zhao doesn’t think he’s ever been so wet in all his life.

  Ichiban’s so glad Zhao didn’t feel like binding today; that thing is always a bitch to take off.

Like this, instead, he can already hold Zhao’s chest in his hands, squeezing it. His fingers are rough when they find Zhao’s nipples, twisting them in a way that makes Zhao whine.

“I-Ichiban…”

This is so different from what Ichiban usually gets to see, or hear, but he’d lie if he said that he doesn’t like it.

He lowers himself so that he can take one of Zhao’s nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking at it like he’s never done before, but when Zhao grabs onto his hair he pulls away, grabbing Zhao’s wrists and forcing them on the sides of their head.

“Stay still,” he orders then, but even after Zhao nods and Ichiban goes back to what he was doing, he still keeps his wrists in his hold. It would be easier to use some rope, or handcuffs - there must be plenty of those in here - but Ichiban has always preferred holding them down with his body, no need for anything else.

“Fuck…” Zhao moans when Ichiban bites down on his nipple, his whole body jolting at the sensation.

Ichiban raises his gaze towards him, and Zhao has to bite his lips to stifle a moan having that heated gaze on him. That, and also he looks so fucking hot while sucking on his tit like that.

If only Ichiban wasn’t between his legs he would try to rub them together, anything to dampen the wet sensation he feels between them. On his part, Ichiban doesn’t seem to care at all, at least for now, focusing only on their chest.

  They test Ichiban’s hold by trying to move his arms, but the other doesn’t budge.

“What did I say?” he scolds them. He usually sounds so gentle and careful, but Zhao hears nothing of that now. How much was he holding back all the times they’ve had sex?

“Sorry…” they mutter, though they don’t really sound that sorry.

Ichiban scowls, but apart from that it seems that Zhao’s apology is enough for him, because he begins kissing a line up to Zhao’s mouth, capturing his lips once again. He at least stops holding Zhao down, but just because he begins slipping his now thorn shirt off, and then going to their waist, thumbs caressing the exposed skin.

At the soft moan that leaves Zhao’s lips, however, they don’t stay still for long, and soon Zhao’s pants and leggings say goodbye as well, getting thrown on the ground with the shirt.

They pull away again, and god if Zhao doesn’t feel like a piece of meat from the way Ichiban’s looking at him. So hungry…

“You’re overdressed,” he points out, instead of saying anything about that.

“So?”

Zhao rolls his eyes. Ichiban has never defied them so much, but he supposes this is what’s fun about what they’re doing today. “C’mon… pretty please?”

It seems that his act does convince Ichiban a little, because he sheds his jacket, and then his shirt, so that Zhao can admire his body. Unfortunately, however, they don’t have enough time to stretch their now free hands to cup his chest because Ichiban drags him forward by the hips so that he’s resting on his knees, open and exposed.

  Ichiban looks down at them, and then a smirk appears on his face.

“Wow, you’re really into this…”

“Huh?” Zhao mutters, confused, but then they realize that there’s must be a pretty big damp spot between his legs. He nervously chuckles then. “Yeah… I am.”

Besides, it’s not like he can’t feel Ichiban getting hard against them. He’s into it as much as he is, and Zhao reminds him by grinding their crotches together, making Ichiban hiss.

It doesn’t last long, however, because soon Ichiban takes back control and pushes Zhao down, holding him still with a hand on their stomach, while with the other he travels down on Zhao’s body, until he reaches his pussy.

The fucker teases his clit just for a moment before lowering his fingers further, down to Zhao’s entrance. At first, he slowly gets only one inside, but seeing how wet Zhao is, he easily slips another one.

He doesn’t bother with being gentle, and thrusts his fingers in and out, in and out, getting the wettest sounds out of Zhao as he does. Holy fuck.

“Yeah… fuck! Ichiiiii!”

“Something tells him you’re liking it…” Ichiban grins, slowing down his movements. “But I bet there’s something you’d like more.”

“God, yeah,” Zhao moans in reply, knowing what Ichiban’s talking about. “Fuck, I need it…”

“Do you? ‘Cause I can keep going like this.” Ichiban twists his fingers up, and Zhao arches his backs against him as a loud moan escapes their lips. Oh yeah there, right there.

Ichiban doesn’t stop, making Zhao edge closer and closer to the orgasm, and all they can do is to hold onto him, scratching his shoulders with his long nails, unable to stop him - not that he wants him to stop. Holy shit it’s so good.

“I’m gonna… Ah!”

They try to warn him that they’re close, that they’re gonna come if he keeps going like that, but Ichiban doesn’t give him the time, going so fast that Zhao reaches the orgasm before he can even finish that sentence. His body tenses up at the sensation, arching and twisting in order to get it to last longer, just a moment longer but then, just like it started, it’s over.

  Ichiban pulls away, and Zhao already misses the feeling of having something inside him, though from the hurried way Ichiban’s unfastening his pants - he doesn’t even bother cleaning his fingers, the idiot - they suppose it won’t be for long.

Indeed, once Ichiban’s as bare as Zhao, he grabs their ankles and pushes them down, on either side of his head. He takes a moment to admire his lover under him, so pretty and flexible, at least until Zhao speaks.

“Again already?”

“You don’t sound upset about it,” Ichiban points out, and he can’t help but to smile, before remembering that he’s not supposed to do that, at least not during this particular occasion.

He distracts himself by kissing Zhao so that they can’t speak anymore, except for a few moans they can’t hold back when he begins to grind his cock against his pussy, getting it wet with all their juices.

He wouldn’t mind getting off like this, if he has to be honest, but he knows how good it feels inside Zhao, and he wants to get back there once again, so he temporarily lets go of one of Zhao’s ankles in order to better guide his cock, holding it as he begins to slide inside. Zhao hisses at the sensation, but otherwise he clenches around Ichiban, almost like he wants to suck him in.

“H-Hey, slow down!” Ichiban exclaims at the sudden stimulation, and he begins to thumb at Zhao’s clit in spite, knowing that it’s still oversensitive.

As predicted, Zhao shouts, body instinctively trying to pull away, but there’s nowhere they can go with Ichiban pressed against him like that, and it’s not like he’s giving him any mercy.

“Fuck! S-Sorry!” they try to apologize, but it still takes a while for Ichiban to stop, leaving Zhao a mess. They feel like a puddle, unable to move a muscle on his own.

  Only when Ichiban begins moving, Zhao manages to get partially out of the state of drowsiness that has been taking over them, body jolting awake at the pounding they’re receiving.

Ichiban’s going completely all out. He even makes the bed rattle with them, hitting the wall countless times. Had they been more coherent, Zhao would’ve wondered if they were going to make a huge hole in it, but with things being as they are, they don’t really care if they do, as longs as Ichiban doesn’t stop.

Usually they’re pretty quiet in bed, but this time they are unable to hold back his voice, moaning and screaming each time Ichiban sinks in. He swears he can feel him get deeper and deeper at each thrust; it’s like he’s drilling him open.

Their vision is cloudy, though it’s hard to tell if it’s just because they’re not wearing his glasses, or if there are some tears that are threatening to run down his face, but Ichiban’s close enough that he can see him pretty decently. He looks focused in a way that Zhao doesn’t think he’s ever seen him.

  Despite the fact that they’ve come recently, Zhao can feel another orgasm building up inside him. Once Ichiban notices - he always begins to tremble when he’s close to coming - he reaches down between his legs again, rubbing his clit with the same roughness from before, but at least it’s had some time to recover, so even though it still hurts a bit, it’s the kind of hurt that Zhao likes.

They feel a bit of drool trickling down their chin, but they don’t have enough strength to lift a finger and do anything about it. Besides, they barely have the time to think about that when Ichiban captures his lips again. It’s obvious by the erratic way he’s moving that he’s close as well.

“Zhao… Can I come inside?”

Zhao almost laughs. Really?

In a way, though, it’s sweet that he still asks.

“Please,” they say then, because he needs it, he needs Ichiban to come inside him so bad.

  Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for his wish to be granted.

God, it feels like Ichiban’s never stopping coming, which in turn tips Zhao well over the edge too, coming with a last shout.

Everything feels intense and not enough at the same time, and Zhao wonders if they've hit their head somehow for him to feel this way. He almost feels feverish.

  Soon Ichiban begins to slow down his movements, until he stills completely. He takes a moment to catch his breath, forehead gently pressed against Zhao’s, then he pulls out, making the other twitch at the sensation of sudden emptiness.

“Fuck…” he very eloquently says then. It makes Zhao chuckle.

“Indeed,” they reply, lazily dragging Ichiban in another kiss, this time softer and much slower than the ones they’ve shared until now.

When they pull away, Ichiban looks at them with badly hidden concern. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“You fuckin’ destroyed me,” Zhao chuckles, but before Ichiban can begin fussing over them, something they’d frankly hate, they continue. “But that’s exactly what I came here for.”

“So it’s fine?”

Zhao nods. “More than fine I’d say.”

  “So… You liked it?”

Zhao raises an eyebrow at him.

“What do you think?” he asks, instead of replying.

After a moment of silence, Ichiban sighs. “Yeah, alright. Dumb question.”

  He lays down close to them, and immediately they drape themselves over him, holding him close. Ichiban hums contentedly, and returns the hug.

All that rough stuff is fine and all, but if he has to be honest, he prefers this “mushy shit” - that’s how Zhao would call it. This is simply how he is as a person, and nothing can change that.

He begins to idly caress Zhao’s back, fingers barely brushing against their naked body.

“Hey,” he says then. “Shouldn’t we take a shower?”

“Gimme a moment,” Zhao replies, voice a bit strained for the effort from before.

Ichiban nods, and waits until Zhao feels good enough that he can get up, because Ichiban knows that’s the problem. He’d offer to carry him, but Zhao would say no and maybe even get offended, so he stays silent.

  It’s not a problem, he can wait a bit.

Actually, with Zhao so close to him, he can wait more than just a bit, as long as they remain here.

“Yeah, take all the time you need.”

[hatterstan-shameblog]

💫✨💕send this to ten bloggers you think are wonderful. keep the game going 💕✨

You infected my brain with hatter stuff

You will be hearing from my attorneys

And by attorneys, I mean random thoughts that pop in my head

Good day!

That’s it, you’re getting

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Hatter Has Definitely Kissed Every Executive At Least Once And This Is How It Went:  Niragi Edition

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Rating: PG-13

Tags: violence, language, death threats, dubious consent (tagging that just to be safe), creative problem solving

Summary: Violence isn’t always the answer, but it’s usually some part of the equation (at least, it is in the Borderlands…)

“Ah, Mori, so nice of you to—“

“Shut the fuck up!”

There is an old adage—timing is everything in life—and that sentiment is truer today than ever before.

At least, it is for Aguni.

He has managed to show up in the meeting room just in time to witness Niragi holding a very loaded rifle right below Takeru’s jaw. The energy in the room hums tense and hot; one strike of a match and the whole place might explode.

“Put the gun down,” Aguni growls, mood shifting from ‘mildly annoyed’ to ‘enraged concern,’ “or I’ll snap your goddamn spine—“

“Now, now, there’s no need for all of that,” Takeru placates, “Our friend Niragi is just expressing himself.”

“I’m gonna express your brains all over the fucking wall if you don’t stop fucking talking,”

“Such a vivid description,” Takeru muses, cocking his head to one side and eyeing Niragi curiously, “is there something about the sight of blood that you find exciting? Not necessarily in a sexual way; although it’s perfectly fine if that’s the case—“

“Stop playing with him,” Aguni interrupts with an exasperated roll of his eyes. He turns his attention to Niragi and points an accusatory finger directly at his chest.

“And you,” Aguni seethes, “you’ve got until the count of three to put the gun down and step away before I snap your neck—“

“You will do no such thing,” Takeru gently chides, giving a soft smile, “I have everything under control.”

“Yeah,” Niragi taunts, sneering at Aguni, “this is none of your fucking business.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Aguni grumbles, clenching his fists at his sides and clenching his jaw. He’s just about to storm his way over and wrestle the gun from Niragi’s devious grip when Takeru holds up his hand in a bid to stop his approach.

“Do you remember our last trip to Sendai,” Takeru asks, furrowing his brow as he tries to remember the details, “it’s been…oh, a good five years since then. Maybe six, I can’t quite recall at the moment.”

“The fuck you talking about?”

“We stayed at that lovey little inn, just outside the city center,” Takeru reminisces, paying no mind to his confused assailant’s question, “we were lucky enough to catch the autumn leaves just before they began to fall. Magical experience, I so hope to go back some day…”

“Pretty sure the yakuza won’t let you back in,” Aguni adds, “barely got away as is.”

“But I did get away,” Takeru reminds him, sounding very pleased with himself, “And, if you can recall, I used a rather effective method of escape.”

“Whatever you did for those clowns won’t fucking work on me,” Niragi insists, pressing the barrel of the gun even harder against Takeru’s skin.

“I’m not so sure,” Takeru hums, “you seem like the type of man who’d be receptive to a…softer approach.”

To illustrate his point, Takeru puckers his lips and releases them with a an audible ‘pop’—an imitation of a kiss, complete with a cheeky wink thrown in at the end.

Niragi looks horrified.

“Did he,” Niragi asks, voice scratched thin as if on the verge of a screech, “fucking…make out with the goddamn yakuza?”

“Yes,” Aguni confirms solemnly, “yes, he did.”

“And it worked! Splendidly, too, I might add,” Takeru exclaims excitedly, “Almost as magical as the changing trees.”

“Takeru,” Aguni grits, “that’s not gonna work here…”

“You’re goddamn right it’s not,” Niragi spits, eyes narrowing into two knife-sharp slits, “ugly-ass motherfucker like you couldn’t even make me blink twice.”

“You’re a man who knows what he likes. I appreciate that,” Takeru says coolly, letting his gaze slip over the gun-wielding maniac in front of him, “just like I appreciate the occasional wager. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in that sort of thing, would you?”

“Takeru,” Aguni hisses, “he’s got you at gunpoint—“

“Shut the fuck up,” Niragi jabs in Aguni’s direction, before turning his attention to Takeru once more, “Gimme your terms. I wanna hear what kind of stupid-ass ideas you got.”

Takeru smirks.

“Nothing too complicated. You let me kiss you,” he explains, “and, if I don’t have you falling to your knees by the time I’m done, you can shoot me as many times as you like. I’ll even have Mori here give you his pocket knife so you can do some slicing, if you like. Could get some really unique blood spatters on the rug that way, like a Jackson Pollock.”

Takeru’s smirk tightens as Niragi imagines the scenario—no doubt in gory, brilliant technicolor, with all the drama and carnage a young man of his macabre inclinations could possibly dream of.

“Of course,” Takeru adds, “if I do manage to succeed, you let me go. No penalties, no petty revenge; we walk out of here as friendly as ever, and none shall be the wiser.”

Niragi snorts.

“Un-fucking-likely. But you know what? I’m feeling fucking generous.”

Niragi lowers the gun a smidge—just enough to allow Takeru some head movement—and shoots him a chilling smile.

“Give it your best shot, old man,” he says, “unless you’re too much of a fucking pussy…”

“I assure you, darling, that I most certainly am not,” Takeru replies.

He brings a hand up to Niragi’s face and very gently pushes a loose strand of hair behind his ear—a gesture which earns him a confused frown and furrowed, pierced brow.

“For fuck’s sake,” Aguni mumbles from the sidelines, watching as Takeru’s hand snakes around the nape of Niragi’s neck and cradles it like he would with any other lover, “are you seriously gonna—“

And, yes; apparently Takeru is ‘seriously gonna’ because he does. His opposite hand has wrapped around Niragi’s waist and pulls him sharply towards himself. The hand at Niragi’s nape performs a similar, albeit more tender, motion, guiding Niragi to kiss him fully and passionately on the mouth.

Niragi closes his eyes—whether instinctually or from the reluctant pleasure of being kissed by a man he had until this point considered his enemy, he can’t be sure. All he does is feel, letting Takeru slip his clever tongue between his lips and trying not to groan at the flush of heat flaring in his face.

A swift jab to his right kidney has him yelping out in pain, while a firm stomp to his foot has his knees buckling and his throat screeching in pain.

Niragi crashes to the floor in a messy, loose-limbed heap. His gun falls to the side and is quickly kicked just out of reach by a casual, flip-flopped foot.

Niragi looks up to see a smug-looking Takeru staring down at him.

“And that’s how we do it in Kabukicho, bitch.”

“Not fucking fair,” Niragi wheezes in protest, arm twisting so he can clutch at his aching back, “you…cheating bastard.”

Takeru picks up the discarded gun and hands it to Aguni, who snatches it from his grip with an angry grimace.

“I may be a bastard, but not a cheating one,” Takeru gloats as he watches Aguni unload the bullets from the gun’s chamber, “I kissed you, you fell to your knees, end of story. I won fair and square.”

Aguni hands the bullets to Takeru, who pockets them with a certain measure of glee.

“If it makes you feel better, I had a lovely time,” Takeru says, “I don’t often come across tongue piercings, so that was quite a treat.”

“I’ll…fucking…kill you!”

“Not today, you won’t,” Aguni says, kicking the unloaded gun back to the floor-dwelling man, “Meanwhile, I suggest you try to get some sleep while you’re down there; you just doubled your patrol duty for the next three nights, so you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

Niragi immediately dissolves into angry, breathless protests, even going so far as to pound his fist on the floor in rage. Aguni remains unswayed, and motions for Takeru to follow him out of the room.

“Brilliant addition, old friend,” Takeru commends Aguni, patting him on the shoulder thrice as they begin to make their way out of the room, “shall we do lunch?”

“Fine,” Aguni agrees, “but you and I are going to have a serious talk about risk management…”

And the two men exit the room, chatting as if they hadn’t just been part of a life-and-death experience, leaving Niragi to gather himself and his pride from the floor.

[phantaloon-books]

Alright I got a couple comments asking for a continuation so here's part 2 of neil finding out the feds were onto smth when they recommended witness protection program

part 1

(Also thank you so much, I genuinely didn't expect such a good reception, everything I write is purely self indulgent)

Andrew is gonna fucking lose it. It's been over three weeks and not a single word from Neil fucking Josten. He's never hated him more, and this time he means it when he says hate. Actually he's not sure he hates himself or Neil more, but he feels hatred and rage and that's what matters. But of course the rabbit just left. Once a rabbit, always a rabbit.

He wanted so desperately to believe that, that Neil chose to run, that he chose to leave him them and keep running because that's what he knows best. Even if believing Neil chose to leave hurts him more than he'll ever admit, it's the best thing to believe. It's best to believe that Neil left than to believe something happened. It's best to believe Neil grew tired and bored of him them than to listen to the worry and dread Andrew's been feeling for months. It's best to believe Neil didn't want him than to let himself think of worst case scenarios.

But he can't make himself think that Neil left willingly and because he wanted to (and not it's not because he wants to believe that Neil wouldn't leave him). Neil would never run without his things, not without his stupid binder and money and contacts, not without clothes or any resources. If he ran away he would do it properly. He wouldn't leave with running clothes and his stupid flip phone. And most importantly Andrew knows that Neil has been restless lately. He's seen the way Neil checks every corner or every place, observes the people, looks for threats. He'd left those habits behind, so something has to have happened. Neil didn't just leave him.

The best thing is the other foxes aren't convinced Neil would run either. He had no one to run from, and he had a family now. And even if he was feeling overwhelmed or anxious, he would have come back. He wouldn't have taken three weeks. So they know, they know, Neil didn't leave because he wanted or needed to. And they're all anxious as hell about that bc if he didn't leave where is he?

They narrow it down eventually, and conclude that he got in a fight and is dead in a ditch somewhere, he had an accident in a coma in a hospital somewhere, he somehow got lost and/or lost his memory, someone killed him accidentally or not and his body is buried somewhere far away, or he's been taken. And Andrew cannot take the stress that he doesn't know where the fuck Neil is any longer.

He almost killed Kevin and several federal agents when Neil went missing for a few hours. This time, he hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but that hasn't stopped him from tearing every dorm apart and the stadium and the police station and the hospital and getting in fights with the FBI. He's desperate enough that he called Browning, hell, he's desperate enough that he contacted the Moriyamas, which wasn't a pleasant experience, but Ichirou had promised Neil protection and this definitely called for mafia intervention. So far neither the FBI or the Moriyamas had helped - yes they had, they informed him regularly that they were looking for Neil, but they had nothing, no clues no trails, and Andrew couldn't believe their incompetence, like for fucks sake the Moriyamas were yakuza, they ought to know what could have happened to one of their most valuable assets. And anyway if he ran, and wasn't taken, they for sure would be behind him, looking to kill him of course, but they still couldn't find him.

Andrew hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but he will soon if he doesn't find Neil, and he's sure he will start with himself. He can't remember the last time he slept or ate well, or went to exy practice, but he doesn't care. He can't care until he knows something. The lack of knowledge is driving him crazy. At this point knowing that Neil is dead and has been rotting in the countryside of Poland would be better than not knowing anything.

He hates this so much. He hates Neil for disappearing. He hates whoever went and got him. He hates the Moriyamas for not being able to find him and not keeping him safe in the first place. He hates himself for becoming so attached. He should have known better. He knew better. He knew it was a bad idea to feel all the things he feels for Neil, especially because it's Neil, the unpredictable rabbit. But he fell for the fake hope that they would make it, that he wouldn't be hurt again, that Neil would stay. He knew letting someone in again could kill him. He knows that if they don't find him, it will. He can't keep going like this. He was stupid enough to feel hopeful, but he won't be able to live once the hope dies.

He's laying in Neil's bed. He knows it's pathetic, but frankly he doesn't care. Everyday is worse than the last one. He's slipping and when he falls it's game over, he's going to make sure of that. If Neil genuinely cared, he'd be pissed at Andrew for even thinking about this. No he'd be upset, but not pissed, about the fact that he's considering taking his life over this. But he opened the door to feelings, and he won't be able to cope with them and he won't be able to close that door again. He's giving up.

Faint buzzing interrumps his thoughts. Someone's calling him. He couldn't stomach the runaway song that matched with Neil's but he couldn't stomach changing it either, so he leaves in on vibrate now. He looks at his screen. It's an unknown number. Most likely the FBI or the Moriyamas or a random police station ready to take him out of his misery and just tell him they found Neil's body. The code says it's from Minnesota. He considers not answering, but he might as well get over it.

He flips the phone open, "I only care about this if you are from the FBI or the literal mafia, so if you aren't from either, feel free to hang up." The other line stays silent for a few seconds, but when he looks at his phone, it's still going. The person didn't hang up. He doesn't have the patience for this. "I'm just gonna hang up then-"

"Andrew, wait." It's barely a hesitant whisper. The voice is absolutely shattered, rough and hoarse and very painful-sounding. There's wheezing too and labored breaths. But god. No matter how wrecked he sounds, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. In half a second he's up and falling from the bed in his haste, alert at last. He can't believe it. He wants to but he doesn't want to believe the call is real.

"Neil? Neil is that you?" He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but the thought dies quickly. There's no way, no way this is real. A sob breaks through the line, and oh it sounds so full of pain and fear.

"Andrew, I-I need you to stay safe. I don't know if they're coming for you, for the foxes. I need you to find a place where you're safe. Call Browning or Ich- the little Lord and make sure they can protect you guys for a while."

Okay that's definitely Neil even if he didn't answer the question. And Andrew's heart is going a thousand miles an hour, he doesn't feel his body anymore.

"Neil where are you? I'm coming to get you, I'll call Browning but where are you?"

"'Drew," another sob, and this one manages to break Andrew's walls more than than the whispered 'Drew', "promise me you'll stay safe, don't come looking for me, you can't take them down, please don't come looking for me."

The exhaustion and terror in his voice doesn't sit well with Andrew. The Neil he knows is not this. "For fucks sake Neil just tell me where in Minnesota you are, I'm coming to get you."

"No- no you're not, I'm not calling you because I want you to come. I just need you to promise you'll be safe."

"Neil who took you? Where are you? I can send the FBI or the japanese shits over, I swear to god I can send them to come get you if you just tell me where you are and who took you. I'll - I'll try my best to keep the others safe, but who took you?"

"I'm sorry, Andrew, I- I didn't mean to, please believe I didn't mean to leave, they- some of the Butcher's pals found me, I'm so sorry- I put all of you in danger again."

"Okay, that's something we can work with, now where are you Neil?"

"Andrew-" his breath hitches, he gasps and whimpers, "I'm so sorry, I have to go, I need to leave Andrew. Please stay safe. Look I- I love you okay? I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

"Neil wait don't hang up-"

And the line goes dead.

The world is falling apart, collapsing all around Andrew. He's numb but he feels encompassing terror. He can't feel a thing, he can't think. He was so close. It feels like Neil just slipped past his fingers, like he just let go of Neil and let him fall to the darkness. He thinks he may be falling too. He needs to call Browning. He does it instinctively, he doesn't register he has his phone to his ear until the FBI agents voice is calling to him. He also goes with what he's gonna say with the same instinct he pulled in Baltimore, knowing he can't mention certain mafia.

"Neil just called me, I have no idea from where, I have no idea how he got a hold of me, he didn't say a thing, he refused to say a thing other than we're in danger, the foxes, and that whoever took him will come for us- oh and apparently it's someone involved with the Butcher."

How he managed to be as apathetic and unattached to everything he said is beyond him. But whatever he says and whatever Browning says, FBI agents are now guarding them in the locker room of the Foxhole Court, with mattresses and mats laid down on the floor. and he doesn't know how they got here and he's cuffed all over again, but this time to Renee even if he doesn't remember being violent. Even the stupid rookies are here, looking extremely panicked and terrified despite most of them not giving a fuck that Neil was gone just hours ago. The other foxes - Neil's family - are pressing Andrew for answers, but he can't deal with anything at the moment.

He needs to call Ichirou too. That's the call that matters, because that's the call that can bring Neil home because he can't do that himself while cuffed to Renee and being guarded by the fucking FBI. He somehow convinces the agent to let him make a call, to his therapist he says, to grant him privacy even if that's utter bullshit. He's dragging Renee into the eye of the storm but oh well, why did they cuff him to her in the first place, it's not his fault. He calls the Moriyama representative he's been dealing with and thank Renee's god the woman answers.

"I need to talk to- to Lord Ichirou, it's about Neil Josten's whereabouts, I got important information about him." He can feel both the condescension from the other end of the line and poorly veiled shock from Renee. "I know where he is, I know about who's got him, I need to talk to Lord Moriyama."

He isn't sure how he managed it. He doesn't know how he convinced them to let them talk to their mafia boss, or how he's able to keep his cool for long enough to actually talk to the man himself. He thinks having Renee there, who asks no questions and keeps her hand on top of Andrew's with no hesitation, is part of the solution but he's not admitting that. Either or, he talks to Ichirou (he can't deny he's not terrified of messing up with the man who keeps Neil alive, but he's not admitting that either), reminds him of how Neil is important to the Moriyamas, both as an exy player and as a Wesninski, and how Neil, Kevin and Jean are loyal to the Moriyamas, hints at how Ichirou promised protection. He has perfect memory, but he will never remember how he convinced Ichirou Moriyama to send people to Minnesota and look for him all over the state and surrounding states, all he knows is that Ichirou stuck to his promise, all is good, he didn't fuck up.

Weeks pass again, nothing happens. There's no news from the Moriyamas, the FBI keeps telling him they're doing what they can. Andrew is done. No one came looking for them at least, which is nice bc they didn't die but it doesn't feel worth it when Neil wasn't back. He feels stupid for hoping he would come back safe and alive. The Moriyamas might as well have killed him for being such an inconvenience. Things are going to hell. Andrew was an idiot for falling so hard for Neil Josten. It was a mistake. He should have known better.

His anger is gone, and numbness has settled. It was becoming a habit for him to remain lying down most of the day. It was also becoming a habit for the foxes to take care of him when he did this. He can't even bother to shower if someone doesn't remind him every day, or eat, or drink water for that matter. He's a mess and he would be incredibly embarrassed if he cared a little, but he's slipping and he doesn't mind falling. Nothing is fine. Until it is.

It comes in the form of a text one morning, while he's lying on the couch in the living room. An unknown number again, New York code, and it only reads, "Threat has been dealt with - I". And what the fuck does that mean. It tells him absolutely nothing. If Ichirou bothered to text him he could at least be clear as to what the fuck that meant. Was Neil even alive? There is a soft knock at the door. Of course, someone bothers him when no other fox is at the dorm. They couldn't ditch every class to make sure Andrew didn't combust spontaneously.

He truly doesn't want to get up. He doesn't want to go answer the door. It's too much a bother. If it's someone important they'll either knock again aor shout for him to open up. He curls up in bed. He honestly wants to disappear. There's another knock, a little harder than the first. But there's no voice, no demand, no nothing. Maybe it's a Moriyama. Maybe he'll feel so disrespected or whatever he's gonna barge in and end his misery. Whatever. "Fuck off", he shouts from the couch, hoping for the best. There's another knock, for fuck's sake, can they just walk in already? Another, and he's up. Pissed and going for the door.

"Fucking hell, what do you want?" His anger is back with a passion, and he's practically stomping to the door, throwing it wide open, "Just barge through the fucking door, and get it over with-"

He has to stop exploding when people don't answer to him right away. Maybe he should work on his patience. Because frankly it has been working against him at the worst times. No it's not his fault. It's the idiot's fault for appearing at out nowhere and stealing his breath away. Everything is Neil Josten's fault.

"Hey Drew," said idiot's voice is impossibly more hoarse than when he called him before. Andrew can't tell if his heart is beating too fast or not at all. He thought he was a mess, but Neil looks like he's been through hell and back. Well, he's been through hell and back too many times before, but he's never looked this bad, and he was a mess after Evermore. His face is beaten so badly, so swollen, if he didn't know him and those stupidly blue eyes so well. Even his eyes are different, there's no spark, they're dull and hazy. He's wearing a large hoodie and sweatpants, so Andrew can't see the damage beyon his face, but at least his hands remain okay, there's no new damage. "Looks like I still have it in me to leave you speechless, huh."

Andrew takes a deep breath and he sighs. And his heart breaks. Neil. Neil. Neil is here. Andrew wants to craddle him and hold him and never let him go again. He doesn't care if it's soft, Neil is here. He raises his hands, frames Neil's face like he has before. He presses a hand to Neil's neck, looking for a pulse, and he finds it. He's alive.

"Neil," he breathes, and he feels. He feels. "You're alive, I thought, you-"

They're both silent. Andrew doesn't notice when Neil raises his hands, framing his own face. They've been here before.

"I'm not leaving you, I promised right? You're not getting rid of me that easily. "

He hates feeling this much, "You've got some explaining to do, but- it can wait."

"That's good yeah, because I'm not sure how much longer I can remain conscious and the Moriyamas weren't the best at patching everything up, so I'd really appreciate it if you call Abby."

He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth, so he guides Neil inside, holding on to his hand like a tether. Neil deflates, he grimaces as Andrew helps him to the couch. He's obviously hiding something below the clothes. Andrew stands to call Abby, but Neil grips his hand tightly. When Andrew looks up, he sees the fear and exhaustion he heard on the call weeks ago. Neil isn't able to keep up the act of being okay for long.

"Stay, pl- just," he looks away, and Andrew doesn't know how to feel about the pause, he didn't say the word, "can you stay?"

And he does. Things aren't fine. Neil is a mess. So is Andrew. They have to work through stuff. Andrew clearly has to work on the apparent dependancy issues. But they'll have time now. Neil is safe. He's alive and safe. He lost consciousness not long after he sat down, but Abby, Wymack and the foxes are on their way. They're not fine. But Neil is lying next to him, and he isn't gonna let him go again. They'll be fine.