#tokyo override x reader

[becertainlust]

COMPANY pt.1 | Spoke

synopsis: Bring your girlfriend to work day.

The scent of motor oil and warm steel clung to the air, mingling with the distinct musk of leather and sweat. The shop wasn’t busy today—just the hum of neon lights and the occasional clatter of a wrench as Spoke worked on a half-assembled bike.

You perched on a worktable, legs swinging idly, watching him with rapt attention. He was in his element, sleeves pushed up, forearms streaked with grease.

"Aren't you going to be bored?" Spoke asked, glancing at you before turning back to the skeletal frame of the motorcycle.

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. "Not with this view."

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head as he wiped his hands on an old rag. "Well, aren’t you flirtatious today?"

You shrugged, playful. "Maybe I just like seeing you work."

Spoke exhaled, rolling the lollipop between his lips before tossing the wrench into the toolbox. "Yeah? You like watchin’ me get my hands dirty?"

Your gaze dipped, taking in the grease-streaked lines of his forearms, the way his shirt clung to his frame, damp with sweat. "Something like that."

The air in the shop seemed to thicken as Spoke casually peeled his shirt off, tossing it aside with a practiced ease. The low light caught the faint glint of muscle beneath his skin, and you couldn’t help but linger on the way his back flexed with each movement.

"I'm back with the food!" Hugo’s voice boomed through the garage. He appeared from around the corner, several bags in hand, followed by Watari and Kai, both carrying drinks and more food.

The charged silence shattered. You blinked, quickly shifting your focus as if the moment had never existed. The heat in the air dissipated, replaced by the easy familiarity of their arrival.

Hugo flashed a grin as he set the bags down, his gaze flicking between you and Spoke. "Don’t tell me I’m interrupting something. Spoke lookin’ like a snack again?"

Spoke, unbothered, shot him a sidelong glance but didn’t respond. His attention was already back on the bike, his posture relaxed, rolling the lollipop between his lips with absent ease as he wiped his hands on a rag.

You smirked, rolling with the shift in energy. "Maybe you’re just late," you teased, grabbing a drink from one of the bags.

Watari bumped Hugo’s shoulder with a roll of her eyes. "Move it, nosy nelly," she muttered.

Kai chuckled, setting the last of the bags on the table. "Yeah, quit being nosy."

You slid off the worktable, making your way over as Watari opened one of the larger brown paper bags. The rich scent of food spilled into the air, pushing aside the lingering motor oil.

The air in the shop seemed to thicken for a moment, but before it could settle, Spoke grabbed a clean shirt from a nearby stool and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric stretched momentarily before settling into place, obscuring the toned lines of his torso.

You slid off the worktable, making your way over as Watari opened one of the larger brown paper bags. The rich scent of food spilled into the air, pushing aside the lingering motor oil. The moment had passed—but you couldn’t deny the ghost of a smirk still playing at your lips.

Everyone settled in, pulling up stools and crates around the makeshift dining area. Hugo passed out sandwiches wrapped in brown paper, while Kai popped the lids off a few glass bottles of soda, the soft hiss of carbonation filling the space.

"You actually got my order right for once?" Watari teased, unwrapping her sandwich and inspecting its contents.

Hugo scoffed, taking a dramatic bite of his own. "Of course. I’m reliable."

Spoke leaned against the worktable, his shirt now slightly wrinkled but still fitting him well. He bit into his sandwich with one hand while the other lazily twirled the lollipop stick between his fingers. His eyes flicked toward you briefly before returning to his food.

You took a sip of your drink, letting the cool fizz settle on your tongue. "So what’s the plan after this?"

Kai shrugged. "Depends. Shop’s closed early today. We could head to the docks. Might be a good breeze."

Watari hummed in thought. "Or we could just stay here. I like the sound of not moving."

Hugo grinned. "That’s because you’re lazy."

She pointed a fry at him. "Efficient."

"Right" Hugo drawled, sipping on his drink.

The conversation drifted into easy chatter, the kind that only came with familiarity. The warmth of the meal, the company, and the lingering scent of grease and steel wrapped around you. And through it all, your eyes found Spoke again—casual, collected, rolling the lollipop between his fingers like he had all the time in the world.

You pushed off from your seat and wandered toward him, stepping into his space as he remained perched on the worktable. Resting a hand on his thigh, you leaned in slightly, catching his attention.

"What kind of juice did you get?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

Spoke glanced at you, the corner of his lips quirking as he lifted his bottle. "Pineapple," he replied simply, taking a slow sip before meeting your gaze again. "Want a taste?"

You tilted your head, watching him take another slow sip. The way his lips lingered against the rim of the bottle sent a flicker of something warm through your chest—not that you’d admit it.

"Maybe," you mused, reaching out before he could react. Your fingers brushed against his as you took the bottle from his grasp, feeling the cool glass against your palm.

Spoke didn’t protest. Instead, he simply watched, the faintest smirk dancing on his lips.

You took a sip, the tangy-sweet flavor of pineapple settling on your tongue, mixed with the faintest trace of something else—something undeniably him. Lowering the bottle, you met his gaze, your expression unreadable.

"Not bad," you said, handing it back.

Spoke’s fingers lingered against yours for half a second before he took the bottle, setting it beside him without another word. But his smirk deepened just a fraction, as if he’d caught onto something unspoken between you.

Before either of you could say anything else, Hugo’s voice cut through the moment.

"Oh, come on. If you two are gonna eye-flirt, at least be more subtle about it."

You shot him a flat look, but Kai snorted, and even Watari smirked behind her drink.

"You're seeing things," you said smoothly, leaning away from Spoke with an easy shrug.

Hugo waggled his brows. "Uh-huh, sure. And I don’t have impeccable instincts."

Spoke just took another bite of his sandwich, unfazed.

Kai leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms over his head. "Anyway, about the docks. If we’re going, we should head out soon before it gets too crowded."

Watari sighed, tossing her empty sandwich wrapper into one of the bags. "Fine, fine. But I’m calling dibs on the best seat."

"Doesn’t work like that," Hugo said, standing and stretching. "First come, first served."

You glanced back at Spoke. His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he finally pushed off the worktable, lollipop still twirling between his fingers.

"will you be fine on your own?" he shoots the question to them, washing down the food with more juice. "I still have a few upgrades on the bike"

Watari pulls up her hair. "what about you" she smiled

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Not in the mood for running errands."

Hugo shot you a knowing grin but didn’t press. "Suit yourself. We’ll be back in a bit—try not to get into trouble kids"

You rolled your eyes as he and Kai stepped out, laughing between themselves. Watari lingered for a moment, giving you a long, considering look before she smirked. "we'll be back in a few."

With that, she turned and followed the others, the door swinging shut behind her.

The garage was suddenly quieter, the absence of chatter making the hum of the city outside seem distant. You turned back toward Spoke, who had barely acknowledged the exchange, still crouched by his bike, focused.

For a while, you didn’t say anything. You just watched—watched the way his hands moved with practiced ease, the way his fingers skimmed over metal, the furrow of concentration between his brows.

"You don’t have to stay," he finally said, voice even, but there was something underneath—something unreadable.

"I know," you replied simply, stepping forward. "But I want to."

Spoke exhaled softly through his nose, shaking his head as he wiped his hands on a rag. "Suit yourself," he murmured, but you didn’t miss the way his lips quirked slightly before he turned his attention back to the bike.

You settled onto the worktable, watching as he worked, the scent of grease and metal mixing with the faint, lingering sweetness of his lollipop.

For a while, the only sounds were the faint clinking of tools and the occasional soft scrape of metal against metal. The garage had a rhythm of its own—steady, methodical, almost soothing. You watched as Spoke adjusted something near the engine, his movements sure and precise.

"You always this focused when you work?" you asked, your voice breaking the silence.

Spoke didn’t look up. "It’s a machine. Give it what it needs, and it won’t fail you."

You tilted your head, studying him. "That why you like bikes?"

He finally glanced at you, another lollypop rolling between his lips. "Something like that."

There was something about the way he said it—something that hinted at more, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he turned back to his work, tightening a bolt with a slow, deliberate twist.

You hopped down from the worktable, stepping closer. "Need help?"

He scoffed lightly but didn’t immediately dismiss you. "You know anything about bikes?"

"I know how to ride one," you said, crossing your arms. "That count?"

Spoke smirked, shaking his head as he handed you a wrench. "Hold this."

You took it, fingers brushing his as you did. His skin was warm, slightly rough with callouses from years of working with his hands. The brief touch sent a flicker of something through you, but you ignored it, watching as he gestured toward the frame.

"Here," he murmured, guiding your hand. "Tighten this bolt, but not too much, or you'll mess up the alignment."

You followed his instructions, turning the wrench carefully. Spoke watched, his gaze flicking between your face and the work you were doing.

"Not bad," he murmured.

You grinned. "High praise, coming from you."

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head before reaching for another tool.

The air between you felt different now—not as thick as before, but charged in a quieter way. You fell into a rhythm, passing him tools, watching him work, stealing glances when you thought he wasn’t looking.

[rieamena]

THE GUN WOULD GO OFF ᝰ.ᐟ

꩜ if someone asked hugo, being inside or eating her out, he'd simply respond, the gun would go off.

꩜ tokyo override. hugo x reader

smut. it's smut. minors + ageless blogs do not interact.

wc: 0.95k

riea's comments: can you tell i write for myself. "yes riea! we know that!" oh okay just making sure yall knew. anyways i love tokyo override and this BADDIE hugo. i need to have his babies. tied him down to my queeeeeen beeeeddddddddd. everyone watch tokyo override please and thank you. end tweet.

hugo, who is definitely an eater. morning, noon, evening, and night, twenty-four seven, three sixty five. on the list of the things he loves most, having his face between your legs, thighs squeezing around his head, while three of his fingers push in and out of you with his tongue lapping at your clit, has to make the top ten. bringing you to your—i don't know, he lost count—fifth? orgasm in minutes with another one building up at record speed makes his mind swell just thinking about it. the warm embrace of your folds and hearing the moans slip from your throat causes him to groan straight into your cunt, a wet spot forming on the crotch of his pants.

hugo, who is vocal, very vocal. let me tell you. listen to me when i say. top three moaners and he's not two or three. this man needs your fingers in his mouth or else the other side of japan is going to hear him. don't get me wrong, he's quiet when he needs to be, but he doesn't want to be. what better way to let you know how good you feel wrapped around him than with sounds of pleasure? and he knows it turns you on. it'll just be you two in the garage, he'll stub his toe or something, and a damn near pornographic moan fills the air. or it'll be late at night and your phone lights up with four consecutive notifications from "hugo <3" and it's three videos of his beefy hand wrapped around his cock, jerking it while his heavy breaths and whines of your name along with sweet everythings (because he doesn't like the term sweet nothings) take center stage of the homemade porno. the fourth message? "missing you so bad."

hugo, who loves to be used by you. he'll swing by your place after a couple deliveries and repairs, hobbling up the stairs as you drag him by his belt loop. he crashes onto your bed, eyes wide as he watches your shirt slip over your head and puddle on the floor. "clothes off." you say, pulling your lounge pants down and stepping out of them. "what's wrong baby? wanna talk about it?" hugo leans on your headboard, his chest and abs visible through his shirt. "now." he scrambles to get rid of his clothes, giving you a lightning speed "yes ma'am." he settles back on the bed with his hands folded over his lap, looking at you expectantly. you climb on top of him, pussy sinking down on his dick. his size never failed to impress you: big, long, and thick??? something's off in the matrix.  "talk to me sweetheart." he forced out, fighting back heavy gasps. you continued bouncing, pressing kisses to his forehead, "shhhh, i'll tell you later." later being when you've got him face down ass up, hole wrapped around your strap. "how. fucking. rude. is that." thrusts matching the pauses in your sentence. "so rude. why would—mmmm—he do that? just a—fuuuck—a man with no morals." hugo's your personal fucktoy.

hugo, who finds your touch addictive. everybody needs a little stress release, right? so it's no surprise when he comes to you, a certain expression on his face. within minutes, his mouth is latched onto your breasts, his dick is in your hand, and he's got multiple hickeys all over his body. and if you needed to get up for something across the room? hugo'll just use the strap of your panty to pull you right back down and place your hand right back on his shaft. "not right now darlin', not right now."

hugo, who is surprisingly shy when it comes to sex. y'all would be having your banter and he'll be like "or what? you gonna suck me off?" and then be on the verge of tears and so incredibly embarrassed—going as far as to need his hands to hide his furious blush—when you pull his pants down and suck him off. and speaking of banter, there's also…

hugo, who has the self control of a saint. there's a little game you two like to play called how horny can i get you before you're practically begging me to fuck you. rules of the game: participants cannot touch each other, aaaand that's about it. you two truly learn the power of words after a couple rounds of this. because why is he whispering—right into your ear, mind you—about how much he needs to spend a weekend with you sat pretty on his face. fuck a vacation, this is the vacation. but when he goes low, you go lower. "you think during that weekend we could do something with that bike of yours? fucking your favorite girl on your most prized possession, hm? how does that sound, hugo?" he physically takes a step back, turns away from you, and says that he needs to go on a walk. because how has that not crossed his mind once?!?!? making love to his love on his (less important) love. having you bent over the seat as he buries his face in your pussy or as he takes you from behind or both of you on the seat with your ass propped up and his cock deep inside. yeah, he's spiraling.

hugo, who is the king of dry humping. no, you cannot change my mind. he'll bring you to seven orgasms but when it comes to him, he is perfectly content with just grinding on you. bending you over, holding your waist and connecting his hips to your ass, all while clothed. shit, even the image of the outline of your cunt is enough to get this man off. he's whipped.

[jjllmx]

Me when i dont see any Spoke x reader ffs from tokyo override: please watch tokyo override on Netflix

[errorlovernotfound99]

One shot! Kai koguma x mechanic!reader!

★✨🍙~📟~⚡~🍘~📳~🎸~✨★

★! Kai who just met you at the workshop who can't help herself from being flustered

★! Kai who shares her candies with you!

★!Kai who can't help but follow you around the workshop as you work on customers cars★

★! Kai who will offer you a ride on her bike anytime you want!

★✨~📟~📳~⚡~🍙~✨★

★!Dating Kai would be going for rides to abandoned places to see the sunsets she says that are to die for

★! Cuddling up to Kai after a long day of deliveries as she lets you run your fingers through her hair!

★! Kai who would throw herself onto your bed and lay in your pillows and blankets to enjoy the scent of your perfume/cologne when you're away!

★! Kai who can stare at you working for hours on end because you look so pretty when you're focused!

★! Kai who tells you to hold onto her waist as she drives her bike!

★~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~★

★tell me what you think in the comments! Please like and repost if you enjoyed!!!★

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights I Chapter 17

satoru gojo x f!reader × suguru geto

plot: you moved to tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. as you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

chapter summary: suguru loses himself again, finding that he can’t keep carrying on this way and getting later confronted by shoko doesn’t do much to help him either.

warnings: noncon

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

17. Insanity

Suguru stared at you with a resigned glare, as if he already knew that stopping himself was far from possible.

“I need you to answer this for me,” he pleaded almost, your silence was beginning to madden him, “do you trust me or not?”

Nodding, you spat out a rushed answer, “Y-yes.”

“How much?” he demanded.

“I-I, um… uh,” you stammered as your words scrambled in response, failing to get a single coherent response out.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to calm himself down before realising that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with you if he kept being so purposefully vague before continuing, “Let me rephrase it then. Do you trust me enough to… to let me hurt you?”

Momentarily freezing, you didn’t know how to reply to him at all. Your tongue danced at the edge of your lips, your breath faltered as you tried to push a response out but nothing happened at all.

“You promised me, remember?” Suguru reminded you of something that happened not too long ago, feeling his mind spiral. “That you’d let me be the only one who could hurt you so that I could make it better.”

Finally getting some words out, you tried to defend yourself, “I-I didn’t want him to do it-“

“—I know, [name], I know,” he sighed, fully understanding that he wasn’t being fair, “I know that it wasn’t your fault, but, it still happened.”

“Why are you being like this?” you asked, watching the light fade from his eyes the longer he looked at you, settling on a decision that was sure to break the both of you.

He continued to react based on envy alone, his tone darkening as he spoke, “I didn’t want to do something like this again, especially not after last time, but…”

All you could do was simply stare straight ahead instead, realising that’s what he meant by hurting you. It was happening again because in his messed up mind, you gave up a part of yourself to someone else and he wanted to reclaim that.

You didn’t quite believe him when he claimed that he didn’t want to do this, however. If he truly didn’t want to, then he wouldn’t even consider it to begin with.

“—I swear,” he continued to pile on, “it’ll be just this and then I’ll actually fix things, but I can’t control myself just yet…”

You simply zoned out as he trailed off, describing that he had to make it right with you by surrendering to his wrongs first, as if a shred of his psychotic ramblings were making a semblance of sense at all.

His mind was surely a mess, indeed. He felt as though he needed to give you an experience that would somehow override the one that Satoru gave you, just to keep you reminded of who to glue your focus on.

When in reality, you wanted an out from them both.

Just like before, you didn’t have a say in how he reacted to you; his sweatpants pitched a little as he surrendered to the thoughts of reclaiming you, his arousal becoming strongly evident the more that he glanced on and off at you.

He leaned back a little, sliding off his trousers with a shaky hand as he surrendered his thoughts to pure and utter insanity. He remained sat against the edge of the bed, deciding that he didn’t have to move for it.

Much like before, the humiliating reality was left up to you. Forcing you to take it on the easily offered way (or the hard way if you chose to struggle your way out of it).

“Will you… get into position?” he asked you, trying to avoid your gaze. Suguru really hoped that you would follow along, at least ideally. He didn’t want to force you again, but he would absolutely do so if you didn’t do as he asked.

Continuing to space out, you understood fully well what he was asking of you but no matter how much you tried to move away or tried to tell him how you truly felt about giving into something like this with him, you simply couldn’t do a single thing.

Noticing your hesitation, Suguru nudged you a little bit, “I won’t ask again so nicely.”

You sighed as you were forced to make a move sooner than never. Remaining still for a further five seconds, you forced yourself to peel yourself from the bed and reluctantly positioned yourself on the floor. It felt just as humiliating as the last time, knowing that you were effectively submitting yourself before him in a kneeled position.

He liked the sight, he thought, it was just a shame that he couldn’t be normal and accomplish it through better circumstances, though.

Something inside of him ate away at his troubled mind as he envisioned his supposed friend doing this sort of thing to you with that exact same look on your face.

Without saying much, he tangled his fingers into the locks of your hair to begin with—weaving through the strands so that he could secure a good grip on you before dragging you closer, guiding the tip of his throbbing erection towards your lips.

He considered letting you ease into it slowly and to figure out your own pace, but he supposed that Satoru didn’t and so he wouldn’t be gentle either.

“Just… don’t bite,” he murmured.

Pushing himself into your mouth, he went as far as he could before your gag reflex kicked in. You struggled slightly in response as you felt him fill out your mouth with his girth, feeling all sorts of wrong as your tongue tasted him while he slid through you. When his cock finally poked the back of your throat though, is when your eyes watered and you pushed back.

Understanding what your limit was, Suguru continued to mutter on and off to himself, “Okay, so that can’t happen for too long then…”

Rather than keep your head in a steady bobbing motion like Satoru however, Suguru instead thrusted upwards against you. His preferences were usually rougher to begin with as you were quickly finding out, even when he did his best to remain calm. Instead of you doing anything to him, it felt as though he was trying to fuck your mouth instead.

Initially, he committed to his slow exploration of what you could do but then he gradually lost himself to the sensation. His grip around your skull began to hurt as your hair pulled and as he speared his length into your throat, regardless of your protests—physical, vocal—it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

“Sorry,” he whispered, despite the fact that he kept doing it.

Your body continued to protest as your palms pushed back at his legs but he didn’t stop, instead grabbing your wrist with his other hand to pry you off; to squeeze your wrist in warning and to keep you grounded in place. He then accelerated the pace, the only sounds in the room present being his grunted whines, your pained cries and skin slapping onto skin.

Of course, Suguru was in too deep into his jealousy to even realise that you weren’t actually doing too well at all. His pursuit left you feeling almost breathless as he continued to keep you well gagged, keeping his length constantly working on you without a single break.

Shushing you, he picked up the pace ever so slightly and tilted his head back. Both to avoid the sight of you and both to surrender to his own building pleasure.

This wasn’t going to be a pleasant sensation from the start. Not physically for you, not mentally for him and yet something like this kept happening, again and again.

“Almost,” he gritted, his jaw clenching as he chased his release.

You tolerated it for a while longer, just barely. Your hands fought him more frequently now, demanding a break. Even Satoru despite his forcefulness, gave you a moment to breathe. Suguru wasn’t doing such a thing however, choosing to be unrelenting instead; your eyes burning as they watered, your vision almost beginning to blur the longer he abused your throat.

Suguru was close though, genuinely. He continued to ram his shaft back and forth, fucking himself into your skull—his release so very close, almost painful as a familiar sensation built up in his stomach, feeling himself literally become milked dry against your resistance.

He grunted as he emptied himself into your mouth, immediately releasing you on reflex and partially missing where his cum had landed. Your expression slightly souring as you tasted him partially while also feeling a creeping sense of discomfort as it dripped at your chin and partially over your clothes.

Flinging his head forward, he fed you an unreadable expression as he processed the sight of everything while letting what he had just done to you settle in the back of his mind.

Maybe you were confusing sweat for tears, but his raw red eyes partially gave him away. You didn’t look at him for too long but you could have sworn that he was crying too.

Figuring Satoru probably requested something similar, with an almost strained, hoarse voice, he requested one more thing from you that he knew you wouldn’t want to do, “…Swallow what you can.”

You did as he asked, albeit reluctantly.

Seeing you do so, he felt the almost violent jealous rage subside at last, only to be replaced with a hangover of almost crippling guilt instead as he softened. It was twice that he hurt you, not once, but twice. Then there was Satoru who did so too. He was genuinely starting to go crazy as a result; why wasn’t he able to handle this like a normal person?

Quickly pulling his sweatpants back up, he couldn’t say a word to you as you perhaps rightfully spaced out from everything. He should have taken things slowly from the beginning. He should have protected you from the start, taking you away from the root of all of your problems and tried to do right by you when it all started to go wrong instead of whatever… this… whole thing was.

If he was being honest, he was beginning to hate himself for what he kept doing to you.

He had to stop. Somehow.

It was almost funny to him in a bittersweet way, how he spent so long obsessing over the feel of your skin to almost feeling repulsed with himself whenever he had the chance to do so now.

Suguru looked down at you again.

Your face was still flushed and pink, your skin had rolling beads of sweat trickling down from your forehead. The almost dishevelled look that you wore was admittedly hot in his eyes, but he hated it all at the same time given the circumstances with how it was accomplished.

After a long and strained moment, you pulled yourself back at last. Your knees gave out as you sat on your bottom instead; your legs tenting in a bowed position as your hands planted themselves onto the floorboards. You had no idea of what to do or say now and neither did Suguru; the two of you staying quiet for the longest time.

After a while however, you slowly picked yourself up as he looked straight past you, his eyes barely following you as you walked towards the en-suite. In an attempt to follow you a second later, he found himself in an almost nauseating position, clutching at his stomach with one hand while the other palmed against his forehead.

By the time you came out of the bathroom, he had since then moved to a lying position on the bed with his eyes pointed at the ceiling.

“Join me for a bit,” he said softly, stretching out his arm in invitation.

You couldn’t refuse him either way, so you reluctantly made your way there. The locks were still in place and if you went outside alone, you risked bumping into Satoru, so you warily accepted his offer and settled right beside him.

He reeled you in as a result, holding onto your side with almost desperate strength to keep you secured into place. The more he thought about it, the more he concluded an understanding (albeit not one that made sense) that the reason that you were both suffering so much was due to the location and the company you kept.

If he moved away sooner than never, then it would all go away.

Pulling you closer, Suguru remained convinced that this was the only way as he settled on the decision. He technically thought about it before but this time he wasn’t going to ease you into it as he had originally planned.

No, this had to be a quick move.

Sitting up ever so slightly, he shot a glance at you for a moment, “Look, I’m going to… I’m going to be back later.”

You didn’t say anything in response and he didn’t expect you to do so. Instead he quickly hopped off into the shower to refresh himself and his mind before getting dressed in a change of new clothes, looking deeply troubled in his expression.

(…Was he actually going mad? He couldn’t tell.)

“I’m going to do something,” he announced in a low voice, his hair still damp, “gonna lock the front door on dual looks and also, don’t tell anyone else that you’re here. Text me if you need anything.”

And with that he left you all alone in the silence with your own troubled thoughts.

~~~

Shoko’s ears perked up when she heard her door open, hoping that it would be you so that she could finally tear you away from this whole mess but it turned out to be Suguru instead.

Feigning initial ignorance, she greeted him passively, “Need something?”

“Just collecting some things for [name],” Suguru replied, seeming just a little bit too tense, “she’s still upset after what happened, you know?”

“That so? How about cutting the shit, Suguru?” Shoko sighed, following him to your room, “I know you’ve done something and I’m not gonna drop it until you come clean.”

She stood her ground, crossing her arms as she blocked the doorway. She had an idea of what he did, but she didn’t know the full extent of the details just yet, hoping that he would confess at his own will instead.

Suguru feeling already all sorts of messed up from everything that had been going on thus far, started to ever so slightly crumble.

“Alright, look, Sho…” he sighed, latching onto your clothes that he held almost desperately onto, “I know I went about it very wrong, so you can spare me the lecture-“

“What did you do?” she replied, really hoping that she was actually wrong about the whole thing. “Seriously. What the fuck did you do?”

Suguru took another deep breath, sighing as he combed his fingers through his hair, instead taking a seat on your bed with his shoulders slumping forward, “You can guess.”

“No, no, no. You’re fucking serious?” Shoko scoffed in response, rolling her eyes in sheer disbelief, “I’m guessing some not great things here— and you’re not… you’re not even gonna attempt to defend yourself? You realise I’m accusing you of sexual assault right?”

“I know what I’ve done so I’m not gonna sugarcoat it,” Suguru sighed, he needed someone to talk about all that has happened, maybe he even needed to be scolded a bit too, he deserved it anyway, “but I’m also gonna make it up to her, I promise.”

“By cutting yourself out of her life, right?” she asked.

“It’s not that simple, Sho,” Suguru sighed, “you don’t know the full story-“

“—this should be rich,” she snorted in a sarcastic tone, “tell me, Suguru, why are you justifying staying with her despite what you’ve done? I can’t believe I’m friends with an abuser. What the fuck happened to you?”

Albeit reluctantly, Suguru attempted to defend himself, “I’m the only one who knows exactly what she’s going through for one-“

Only to be cut off by Shoko, “—you caused it though, you dumbass.”

“You don’t get it,” he sighed again, straightening his back, “she has nobody else. I can’t just leave her behind, not when her only option is to go home to… go back to that life. Better yet, what, do you want me to call Satoru over to fix the mess he started so he can touch her up in the alley again? Fuck, man, I might have done a lot of wrong, but I’m at least genuinely putting in effort into fixing things.”

“Hold on a second,” Shoko said, catching onto one detail in particular, “let’s rewind there, what do you mean by Satoru touching her up in the alley…?”

Her mind blanked for a moment, was it really Satoru who did that to you? You were so shaken up back then, so roughed up, so upset. What were her two friends that she trusted to get to know you even doing? If she had known then she would have acted sooner. God, how guilty she felt. She needed to make this right; she needed to get you the hell away.

“Oh yeah, that’s the rich part,” Suguru scoffed as he started to spill the details, “he kept it so well hidden too, that fucking liar. Guess he’s no better than I am, so that’s just fair game, isn’t it?”

“Great,” she sighed, taking a wary step back while feigning self control in her tone, “so you’re both fucking disgusting.”

“Correct… but, like I said,” Suguru reminded her, “I’m going to fix things.”

Shoko groaned in almost exasperated tone, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands, “How are you gonna do that exactly?”

He wanted to tell her the full truth, how it all started with eliminating the bully from your past and then moving up from there, but he had to keep it better contained or else he wouldn’t be able to pull it off, “I’ll remove her from Satoru’s grasp and take both her and the girls far, far away to start something new. You’re welcome to stay in touch, just don’t tell anyone else,” he murmured in an added warning, “I mean it.”

“And does she want this…?” Shoko asked, not quite buying that this was something you just blindly agreed to.

Suguru shrugged, “She wants peace.”

“Then leave her alone.”

Suguru started to however ignore her, fetching a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up in the room itself. Shoko initially wanted to protest, knowing her landlord would berate her for it later, but instead just cracked open a window and lit a stick up too.

She was going to get you out of this whole mess either way, so perhaps it was for the best that Suguru thought that she was resigning in her attempts to do so. He probably thought that she had no real idea how to do so anyway.

“No more bullshit then,” she stalled, withholding the information that Utahime was on board to help her, that the second she could catch you truly alone, was the second that she’d jump in and get you out.

Not that Suguru could know about it.

Not that Satoru would ever hear a single word.

“No more bullshit,” Suguru agreed, understanding that it wasn’t that simple in his now regained clarity, because this whole thing was complicated and so was he (but as soon as he’d fix it, then the bullshit would surely stop. That’s the promise he gave you and that’s what he owed you and he had to see it through).

He’d stop.

Surely.

[h4itani-4ddict]

A Promise of Love

Pairing: Bonten!Rindou Haitani (Tokyo Revengers) x female! reader

Genre: Fluff fluff and fluff/ SFW

TW: pregnancy (lmk if I missed smtg)

WC: 274

Rindou Haitani's footsteps echoed through the dimly lit alley as he made his way toward a quiet spot, seeking solace amidst the chaos of the Bonten. His mind was heavy with thoughts of battles, loyalty, and the consequences of his actions as a gang member.

As he turned the corner, he spotted his girlfriend, (y/n), standing there, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and uncertainty. His heart sank at the sight of her trembling figure, instinctively recognizing her distress.

"Hey, y/n," he greeted, his voice laced with concern. "Is everything okay?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice quivered as you struggled to find the words. Fear gripped your heart, as doubts and insecurities threatened to consume you. You had been afraid to share this news, fearing rejection or judgment from the person you loved.

Rindou noticed the distress etched across your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks. Immediately, his protective instincts kicked in, overriding his own worries and doubts. He closed the distance between you, enveloping you in a warm embrace.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" he whispered gently, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Between sobs, you managed to say, "Rindou… I'm… I'm pregnant." The words came out in a broken whisper, laden with fear and vulnerability.

For a brief moment, silence enveloped the alley as Rindou processed the weight of your confession. His hold tightened around you, offering comfort and reassurance. His eyes softened, reflecting a mix of surprise, love, and determination.

"Y/n," he spoke softly, his voice steady and unwavering. "I understand your fears, but you need to know something. I love you. And nothing, absolutely nothing, will change that. You are not alone in this."

A mixture of relief and disbelief washed over you, the weight of your anxieties slowly lifting. His words brought a sense of security that you had desperately craved.

Rindou wiped away your tears, his touch gentle and soothing. "I won't deny that our lives are complicated, but this child is a part of us. A symbol of our love. We'll face any challenges together, just like we've faced everything else."

Your sobs subsided, replaced by a glimmer of hope and gratitude. Rindou's unwavering support washed away your doubts, and you realized that you had underestimated his capacity for love and understanding.

"I'm scared, Rindou," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He held you even closer, his voice filled with conviction. "I know, y/n. But I promise you, I'll be there every step of the way. We'll create a a life filled with love and support for our child."

In that moment, you felt a sense of warmth and acceptance flood your heart. Rindou's unwavering love shattered the barriers of your insecurities, forging a path towards a future you could face together despite his life.

I live and dream for a soft and cute Rindou

masterlist - requests

[aghost-writer]

Love Me... Until the End

Chapter 21

This is a Yandere Tokyo Ghoul x Female Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

Yamori’s presence was suffocating, the weight of his aura filling the room like a toxic fog. His sharp grin gleamed under the flickering light, his eyes scanning every inch of the space. He stepped forward, the sound of his boots echoing ominously.

“Where is she?” Yamori’s voice was low, but it carried an unmistakable menace. His gaze landed on Pancho, standing near the wall, visibly trembling.

“She’s not here,” Pancho managed, his voice shaking. “She left a long time ago.”

Yamori’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, and before anyone could react, his boot connected with Pancho’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“I can smell her,” Yamori growled, his tone teetering between amusement and something darker. “She’s close. I know she is.”

Kaneki and Touka stood frozen, exchanging a tense glance. Neither dared to speak. Neither dared to move.

Yamori sniffed the air, his grin widening as he turned toward Kaneki. “And you…” He leaned in, his face inches from Kaneki’s, his breath hot and rank. “You reek of her.”

Touka moved first, her instincts overriding her fear. She launched a kick at Yamori, but he blocked it effortlessly, catching her foot mid-air with a mocking chuckle.

“Stay away from her,” Touka snarled, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

Yamori’s smirk deepened, his grip tightening on her ankle before shoving her back with a casual flick of his arm. Touka stumbled, crashing into the wall behind her.

“Not a problem,” Yamori said, his tone dripping with mockery.

Before Kaneki could react, Yamori’s massive hand was around his neck, lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. Kaneki struggled, clawing at Yamori’s arm, but his grip was unrelenting.

“There’s no standing between me and what I want,” Yamori said, his voice calm but edged with mania. “And I want her.”

Kaneki’s legs wrapped around Yamori’s arm in a desperate attempt to break free. Yamori responded by slamming Kaneki down onto the table with a bone-rattling crash. The table splintered under the force, but Yamori didn’t stop. Again and again, he slammed Kaneki down until his body went limp.

“Where is she?” Yamori demanded, his voice rising.

Kaneki groaned, his vision swimming, but he refused to answer.

Yamori’s boot connected with Kaneki’s chest, eliciting a choked scream. The sound was agonizing, yet Kaneki refused to yield. He reached up, gripping Yamori’s leg in a futile attempt to push him back.

Yamori’s kagune flared to life, the crimson appendages gleaming like wet steel. In one swift motion, he stabbed Kaneki, who collapsed to the ground in a heap.

“Damn it!” Touka shouted, moving to attack again, but a firm hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her back.

“Touka,” Ayato hissed, his expression cold and unyielding. “He’s not your fight. (Y/N) is what matters right now.”

Touka glared at him but didn’t respond.

Ayato smirked cruelly. “You’re grounded with that broken wing of yours. Crawl if you have to, like the bug you are. Who knows, maybe (Y/N) will step on you if you’re lucky.”

Touka’s fists clenched, but she stayed put, glaring daggers at her brother.

Meanwhile, Yamori lifted Kaneki by his hair, the boy’s bloodied face barely recognizable. Each punch was methodical, each strike more brutal than the last. Yamori’s voice dripped with unhinged obsession as he chanted, “Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?”

Kaneki’s head cracked against the table with every word, blood spattering across the room like crimson paint.

Finally, Pancho found his voice, his trembling hands raised in a placating gesture. “We should go, sir. This is taking too long.”

Yamori shot him a deadly glare, his eyes narrowing. “Not without her,” he hissed.

Nico, who had been silent up until now, stepped forward, placing a delicate hand on Yamori’s shoulder. “He’s right, my dear. You’ve made your point.”

Yamori turned his gaze to Nico, his expression unreadable.

“Make him a little present for her,” Nico suggested, gesturing to Kaneki. “Then we’ll find her. She’ll appreciate your efforts.”

For a moment, Yamori seemed to consider this. Slowly, his grin returned, though there was something more sinister in it now. “You’re right,” he said, his voice almost sweet.

Then, without warning, he drove his fist through Nico’s stomach, his expression never wavering. Nico’s face twisted in pain, but he didn’t cry out, merely collapsing to the floor in silence.

“Stuff the one-eyed freak in a bag,” Ayato said, his tone dripping with disdain. “We’re wasting time.”

Yamori stepped back, finally letting Kaneki’s battered body fall to the ground. His gaze lingered on Kaneki for a moment before turning toward the door.

“She’ll come to me,” Yamori muttered to himself, his voice carrying an eerie certainty. “She always does.”

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

(Y/N) left the playground as the soft creak of the swings faded into the chilly night air. Her steps were measured, her hands tucked into her coat pockets as her breath misted faintly in front of her. She wasn’t in a hurry—she never was—but her sharp eyes scanned the quiet street out of habit.

As she approached her apartment building, she froze. Up above, perched on the railing of the rooftop like some ghostly figure, was a white-haired boy. The dim glow of a nearby streetlamp illuminated him just enough for her to make out his precarious position. He was balanced effortlessly, his arms outstretched slightly as though testing the edge between life and gravity.

Her chest tightened, though her expression didn’t change. Without a word, she made her way to the fire escape on the side of the building. The old ladder creaked under her weight, but she climbed steadily, her movements precise.

By the time she reached the rooftop, she was slightly out of breath, though she concealed it well.

“Hey,” she said, her tone flat but loud enough to get his attention. “Get down from there.”

The boy turned his head slowly, his crimson eyes meeting hers. A wide smile spread across his face, almost too wide, and he jumped down from the railing with a grace that didn’t match his frail-looking frame.

“I knew you’d come,” he said brightly, as though they were old friends.

(Y/N) stayed where she was, her hands still in her pockets. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze cool but curious. “You shouldn’t be up here.”

He didn’t seem to hear her—or maybe he didn’t care. He took a few steps toward her, his smile never faltering. “You’re just like your picture.”

Her brows furrowed ever so slightly. “Picture?”

Juuzou’s smile widened further, and he tilted his head, as if enjoying some private joke. “I found it. On Amon’s desk. You look better in person, though.”

The mention of Amon made her stomach turn, though she didn’t let it show. Her stance remained relaxed, but her eyes sharpened. “You know Amon?”

“Oh, sure,” he said, his voice light and playful. “But I know you better. I’ve been waiting to meet you.”

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down her spine, though she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped back slightly, creating more space between them.

“I don’t know who you are,” she said evenly. “And I don’t think I want to.”

That seemed to amuse him even more. He laughed, the sound high-pitched and almost childlike, but there was something off about it.

Juuzou suddenly lunged forward, and before she could react, he had her wrists in his grip. He was faster than he looked, and much stronger. She pulled back, trying to free herself, but his hold was unyielding.

“Do you like me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. His crimson eyes bore into hers, searching for something she couldn’t name. “Am I good enough for you?”

(Y/N) didn’t answer. She didn’t struggle, either. She went still, her gaze calm despite the sharp pain in her wrists. She knew instinctively that fighting him outright would only make things worse.

Juuzou’s grip tightened, and she felt the ache deepen. “Don’t you love me?” he muttered, his voice cracking.

“Let go,” she said quietly, her voice steady.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, as though startled by her calmness, he released her wrists. She stepped back immediately, rubbing the red marks on her skin but keeping her eyes on him.

He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her uneasy. Then he smiled again, though this time it was smaller, almost wistful. “You didn’t run.”

“No,” she said simply.

That seemed to satisfy him. He took a step back, giving her space. “You’re just like I thought you’d be. Better, even.”

The wind on the rooftop had been sharp, cutting through the thin fabric of her jacket as (Y/N) stood staring down at the streets below. She had been hoping Juuzou would lose interest if she just ignored him, but instead, he perched a few feet away, smiling at her like a child who’d found his favorite toy.

When it became clear he wasn’t leaving, (Y/N) sighed quietly, brushing her hair back from her face as she headed toward the fire escape. She descended the ladder swiftly, her movements measured and deliberate. Juuzou followed, his feet barely making a sound as he trailed behind her like an overeager shadow.

“Do you follow everyone you meet off rooftops?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she reached the ground.

“Nope,” Juuzou said cheerfully, hopping down beside her. “Just you.”

(Y/N) pulled her phone from her pocket, her fingers quickly tapping out a message to Amon.

Meet me outside the CCG. It’s urgent.

She hit send and slipped the phone back into her pocket before turning to Juuzou. “Why me?”

“Because you’re my sugar!” he chirped, his grin stretching wide.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression as neutral as ever. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Juuzou tilted his head, his white hair falling messily into his eyes. “It means you’re special,” he said simply.

“Right,” (Y/N) muttered, starting down the street. “Do you work, Juuzou? Or are you just a professional stalker?”

“I work!” he said proudly, falling into step beside her. “I’m a Special Class Investigator with the CCG.”

Her steps faltered briefly, though her expression didn’t betray the spark of interest his words ignited. “CCG, huh?” she said, keeping her tone casual. “Dangerous line of work.”

“It’s fun,” Juuzou replied, his grin never wavering. “And I get to protect people. Like you.”

(Y/N) bit back a sigh, her mind racing. The mention of the CCG only strengthened her resolve to see Amon. If she could get even a shred of useful information, maybe Kaneki and Touka wouldn’t have to leave the ward after all.

“Juuzou,” she said, her voice calm but firm, “take me to the CCG.”

He stopped walking, his red eyes narrowing slightly. “Why?”

“I want to see where you work,” she lied smoothly, her expression unreadable.

Juuzou’s suspicion melted away instantly, replaced by a delighted smile. “You want to see it because of me?”

“Something like that,” she said, averting her gaze to hide the flicker of guilt that threatened to show.

“Okay!” he said brightly, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the direction of the CCG.

(Y/N) let him lead the way, her mind already formulating her next move.

They arrived at the imposing structure of the CCG headquarters just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pavement. (Y/N) released a quiet breath, her eyes scanning the building as she tried to spot Amon.

“Here it is!” Juuzou said proudly, gesturing grandly toward the building. “What do you think?”

“It’s… impressive,” she said, her tone distant as she caught sight of a familiar figure stepping out of the building. Amon.

Her eyes widened slightly as he began walking toward them, his attention focused elsewhere for the moment. She needed to act fast.

“Juuzou,” she said, turning to face him, “this is where we part ways for now.”

His cheerful expression faltered, his lips tugging into a pout. “Why?”

“I need you to do something for me,” she said, her voice softening. “Be a good boy for me, okay? Go draw me some pictures or… or find something fun to do. I’ll see you later.”

Juuzou hesitated, his brows furrowing. “But I don’t want to leave you.”

“Don’t you want to make me proud?” she asked, her voice steady but kind.

He blinked at her, his pout slowly melting into determination. “I do.”

“Then go,” she said gently. “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded reluctantly, his usual grin returning. “Okay! I’ll make you proud, sugar!”

(Y/N) watched as he walked away, her guilt pressing heavily on her chest. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, though. Amon was only a few steps away now.

Before she could greet him, Juuzou suddenly turned back, darting toward her.

“Wait!” he called, planting a quick kiss on her lips before she could react.

(Y/N) froze, her eyes widening in surprise.

“See you soon!” Juuzou said with a beaming smile before skipping off into the night.

Amon stopped in his tracks, his gaze shifting between Juuzou’s retreating figure and (Y/N), his expression unreadable.

“Care to explain that?” he asked, his tone even.

(Y/N) let out a slow breath, crossing her arms. “It’s a long story.” ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

Amon followed silently as (Y/N) led him toward her apartment. His towering frame was tense, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The earlier encounter with that pale-haired man lingered in his mind, burning like a hot ember in his chest. He didn’t trust the stranger, nor did he trust the way (Y/N) had seemed almost… familiar with him. The thought made his blood boil, but he said nothing, his jaw set tight.

As they reached the front of her building, Amon glanced down at her. She looked distracted, her gaze flitting between the door and the sidewalk, like she was trying to figure out her next move. His brows furrowed, concern etched across his face.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said finally.

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, her hand resting on the railing of the stairs. She glanced back at him, her lips curling into a faint, tired smile. “A lot’s on my mind,” she admitted.

Amon studied her, his dark eyes searching. “You said you needed to talk. What’s going on?”

She hesitated, gripping the railing tighter as she tried to find the right words. Lying to Amon didn’t sit well with her, but she had no other choice. “I’ve got… a lot going on,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “There are things I need to figure out—things I can’t do alone. I thought maybe you could help.”

His expression softened slightly, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “If you’re in trouble, you need to tell me. I can protect you.”

(Y/N) smiled faintly, a flicker of guilt flashing in her eyes. “I know you can, Amon. That’s why I trust you.” She paused, shifting her weight as she debated her next words. “It’s about the ghouls. I need to understand more—what they’re doing in the wards, why things are getting worse.”

His face hardened instantly, his protective instincts flaring. “You shouldn’t be worrying about ghouls. That’s my job. I’ll keep you safe—you just need to stay out of it.”

She exhaled slowly, her frustration mounting. He was so stubborn, so adamant about shielding her from everything. But she didn’t need shielding—she needed answers. “Amon,” she began, stepping closer, “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Please, just tell me what you know.”

Before Amon could respond, a low, mocking laugh echoed from the shadows behind them.

“My, my. Such a touching moment,” the voice drawled, smooth and taunting.

Both (Y/N) and Amon turned sharply, and her blood ran cold as a familiar figure stepped into the dim light. Nico.

Amon instinctively moved in front of her, his hand hovering near the weapon at his side. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice steady but laced with tension.

Nico ignored him, his sharp smile fixed on (Y/N). “Yamori’s been missing you, dear,” he said, his tone almost playful. “He’ll be so pleased when I deliver you to him.”

Amon stiffened, his gaze flicking between Nico and (Y/N). “You know this man?”

She didn’t answer, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her mind raced, weighing her options. Nico was stronger than Amon—stronger than her. Fighting wasn’t an option, and she couldn’t risk Amon getting hurt. Not for her.

Taking a slow breath, she stepped forward, slipping out from behind Amon. “I’ll go with you,” she said evenly, her voice calm despite the fear twisting in her stomach.

Amon’s head snapped toward her, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What? No! (Y/N), you can’t—”

She turned to him, placing a gentle hand on his chest to stop him. “Amon, please. I don’t want you to get hurt. Just… trust me.”

His jaw clenched, his fists trembling at his sides. “I can’t let you—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted softly, her gaze steady. “I’ll be fine.”

Before he could protest further, Nico closed the distance between them, grabbing her wrist with an iron grip. Amon moved to stop him, but Nico’s other hand shot out, striking him hard in the chest and sending him staggering back.

“Nuh-uh,” Nico said, wagging a finger at him. “Be a good little human and stay down.”

Amon struggled to regain his footing, but (Y/N) shook her head, giving him a pleading look. “Don’t,” she whispered.

Nico grinned, throwing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. “See? She knows better. Smart girl.”

As Nico turned to leave, Amon pushed himself up, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “(Y/N)!” he shouted, his voice hoarse and desperate.

She glanced back at him over Nico’s shoulder, her heart breaking at the sight of him—bruised, bleeding, and helpless.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed silently, tears pricking her eyes as the distance between them grew.

Amon staggered forward, but his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. His vision blurred, the edges of the world darkening as he reached out toward her one last time.

And then she was gone. ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

Hide emerged from (Y/N)’s closet, his sharp eyes scanning the wreckage of her bedroom. The door hung ajar, splintered from the force of being kicked open. The once-cozy space now reeked of violence, a stark contrast to the warmth (Y/N) usually brought to it. His gaze landed on Amon, lying crumpled on the floor, barely conscious. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the carpet in dark crimson.

Hide sighed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. For a moment, he considered leaving Amon there. The thought lingered—a bitter, fleeting temptation. After all, Amon was part of the CCG, the very organization that hunted ghouls like animals. His presence in (Y/N)’s life had always felt like a threat.

But then Hide’s gaze softened, and he let out a frustrated groan. He couldn’t leave him like this. Not here. Not when (Y/N) would hate herself for it later.

“Lucky you,” Hide muttered, kneeling beside Amon. “The things I do for love…”

He prodded Amon’s shoulder lightly, testing if the man could still move. Amon stirred weakly, groaning in pain but unable to form words. Hide grimaced as he grabbed Amon by the arm, slinging it over his shoulders. With a grunt, he hoisted the injured investigator onto his back. Amon was heavy, his limp body deadweight against Hide’s smaller frame.

“You better not bleed all over me,” Hide grumbled, adjusting his grip. He straightened up with some difficulty, his legs straining under the added weight.

Without a second glance at the wrecked apartment, Hide stepped out into the hallway, leaving the door wide open behind him. He didn’t have time to worry about locking up. (Y/N) wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon—not with Nico hauling her off to Yamori. The thought made Hide’s chest tighten, but he shook it off.

Focus.

The stairs creaked under the combined weight as he made his way down, his steps hurried but careful. Amon groaned again, his head lolling against Hide’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it hurts,” Hide muttered. “Just hang in there.”

The street outside was quiet, the usual city noise dulled by the late hour. Hide’s pace quickened as he moved through the dark, avoiding well-lit areas. The last thing he needed was attention—especially with a bloodied CCG investigator slung over his shoulder.

As he walked, Hide’s mind raced. The CCG was the logical destination. Amon needed medical attention, and Hide couldn’t exactly drag him to a ghoul-run clinic. But handing him over to the organization that saw ghouls as nothing more than monsters left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Still, there wasn’t a choice.

By the time the CCG building came into view, Hide’s muscles burned from the effort. He adjusted Amon one last time, muttering under his breath, “You owe me for this, big guy.”

Approaching the entrance, he steeled himself, his usual smirk returning to mask his unease. “Showtime,” he muttered, stepping into the lion’s den.

[p-antomime]

Mirror, mirror, mirror on the wall! — feat. Haitani Ran.

𖦹 minors don’t interact. ┊ wc: 1K.

𖦹 content: soft dom!ran, unprotected sex, mirror sex, praise kink + worship, nicknames, fingering, edging.

𖦹 pairings: bf!haitani ran x gf!f!reader.

ᥫ᭡. request. ┊ taglist! ┊ tokyo rev. masterlist!

"Eyes open, I want to see you watching everything", his hand squeezed your chin without much force before his lips left a simple, tender kiss against your shoulder.

His body behind yours and the only thing in front of you, besides the reflections, being a huge mirror that had been built into the wall long before you moved into his house months before. Even on knees on the bed, with one leg resting against each of yours, Ran still looked tall, unlike you, who was now bent over it with the chin resting against the mattress and ass up with two of his fingers slowly entering and exiting your dripping pussy.

"Eyes glued there, got it?", his head jerked to the mirror and you whimpered a breathless 'yes', "Good, good, tell me what you are seeing there"

"Just us...?", you didn't know what exact answer he was hoping to receive, but your body was too busy trying not to crumble completely as his fingers curved around and spread your slick across your sensitive folds.

"Us, you say? No, sweetheart, where did your cute little brain that I love so much go?", you bit your lip to try to hide a small smile, "Pay attention to you at the mirror, what d'you see?"

"Your girlfriend?", Ran rubbed your clit slowly, you knew that was part of the answer he was hoping to receive.

"Mhm, my girlfriend, put a heavy 'Ran's' there", he leaned over your back and stared at you through the mirror with a small smile, "But, more than this, more than just my girl", his chin rested on one of your shoulders and his fingers inside you began to move faster, "You're the best girl, the prettiest, the loveliest, literally no one can beat you, got it?"

You nodded in agreement, but watching you look away from the mirror for brief seconds before facing him again, Ran knew you weren't taking him seriously.

"I'm dead serious, sweetheart, when I say something, I mean it, especially when it comes to you", Ran whispered pulling fingers out of you and rubbing your clit until you were trying to force hips against his hand, more of your slickness leaking out and his other hand keeping your face still, your vision still fixed on the reflection in the mirror but becoming slightly blurred as the pleasure began to override your thoughts.

Overiding to the point that you almost forgot why Haitani Ran had stopped answering a few messages from his brother only to pin you against the shared bed of the two of you to love your body. Not fuck you, specifically love you; that's what he was willing to do.

The beginning of it all was him watching you take too long in the shower and walking into the bathroom without knocking on the door and almost making your heart jump out of the mouth. Inside, you were too busy staring at yourself in the much smaller mirror, analyzing your features, hair, nose, eyes, cheeks, neck, shoulders; everything. And you weren't exactly enjoying what you were looking at, especially when you looked away and saw two pairs of amethysts staring back at you.

Ran seemed too much for you. Seemed too good for someone like you, seemed to be on a level above you and it had been ingrained in your mind for weeks, even though he talked every day, without exception, about how beautiful you are, how much he loves your little details.

He asked you what you were doing, and you answered 'Just finishing showering...?' to which he would signal that it had been more than ten minutes since the shower had been turned off.

You didn't have to say what you were feeling, Ran could easily deduce and knew that the root of the problem was that you were insecure about being enough for him, especially since it wasn't the first time.

"You're so fucking pretty and sometimes I wish that you could look at yourself by my eyes so you'd be able to see how the fuck you are the most gorgeous girl I've ever met", Ran whispered holding you against the bed as he felt you squirm too much and noticed your clit throbbing against his fingertips; you were too close, "Wanna cum, angel?"

Your head bobbed in agreement and mouth only managing to drool a few whimpers as your legs trembled more and more. And Ran let out a small laugh before he pulled his hand away and, when you faced him over your shoulder, lowered his hand against your wet pussy in a light slap.

"I couldn't let you cum on my fingers, what kind of a guy would I be if I let the woman I love, my gorgeous woman, cum without my cock?", he opened a sideways smile staring at you through the mirror and wrapping one hand around your waist and using the other to do the same on your neck, pulling your body up and letting your back rest against his sweaty chest.

"Why are you looking away from the mirror? Watch me while I'm loving you so well, angel, I wanna make you feel so loved that you won't look at yourself on the mirror again and think that you aren't enough”

Ran kept you still with his arm around your waist as he forced his hips forward and slowly inserted his long cock inside your tight pussy. Slowly, because then you could enjoy the feeling of every vein of his rubbing against your walls and feel yourself being opened completely.

Your body would have crumbled forward if he hadn't held you firmly and left wet kisses against your neck and shoulder before facing you again through the mirror and giving an initial thrust.

"You're more than enough, my angel, trust me", Ran gave two more moves, this time a little faster and deeper, "More than enough to be my princess and more than enough to have your pretty tight pussy be worshipped too, may I continue?"

Your quiet head conception was the starting point for Ran to start bumping his hips against yours to invade you deeper and deeper and harder as he grunted by your ear that you were perfect, that you were his girl and that he loved you more than anything.

ㅤ🏷 tagging: @festive @wakaslut @strawberrysanzu @bontensucker @wakasa-wifey @manjiroscum @inu1gf @keisaint @ravenina14 @saaraunicorn @ranilingus @dokidokimanji @mizurimirai @sleepy3 @kuroaka @slut4manjiro @zuuki @qudvxnkanx @manjirosdoll @hirwishin @izanaswifey @ushitoshiii @bontens-cum-slut @amaejiki @k-ryuuguji @vlyntage @savagemickey03 @fuyuus @hellventures @binglebonglerightonthemoney @horny-inarizaki-stan @mrsvaleska @goldenmnr @semisgroupie @no-name-jack @pshwaa @lordbugs .

[kurooserlenmeyerflask]

Gojo HC

Gojo x Reader

Warning: MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR JJK PLS READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

WC: 929 words

Slowburn friends to hinted lovers

A/N: This might become a Gojo HC series,,, yeah..

Imagine, you went to school with him, Geto, and Shoko. I want to say you and Shoko were best friends (still are), and all of you have rooms right next to one another (we can say Gojo probably requested it for annoyance purposes). 

I think you and Gojo formed a healthy rivalry back when you guys were both students, both coming from major sorcerer clans so you guys have a lot to bond over (particularly bonding over your hatred of the old geezers)

Gojo probably flirted with you a lot, and like the badass you are, you brushed off his advances (also because you did NOT want to be one of Gojo Satoru’s fangirls). This did not deter his confidence cockiness , however it did make him chase you a lot

You see, let’s say your cursed technique is sort of like a mimic technique. Where you can either completely absorb one’s technique or simply mimic it. However the setback is that you can only absorb those who are equal to or weaker than you are and you can only have so many different cursed techniques until it starts weighing you down physically. So of course you can release the absorptions, otherwise your life would be incredibly difficult. NOW BC OF THIS Gojo makes fun of you because you can’t even mimic a simple part of his technique. This in turn makes you more frustrated (you are praying for his downfall well i guess the box happened)

Fast forward to the day of Geto’s death, it came to you hard because you guys all grew up with one another with millions of sleepovers, movie nights, and all the like. Now, once you found out- a huge fight broke out between you and Gojo. 

“Satoru, what do you mean you just left his cold, lifeless body back there??” 

“I wanted his family to have the honors y/n”

“Why did you have to kill him? We could have found another way-”

“There was no other way, especially if he was trying to kill YOU for being compassionate about helping humans.”

And that broke your heart, knowing that he would have killed you for having compassion towards a group of people he saw beneath him. The death ultimately caused a huge strain in your friendship with him, hence why you guys cut each other off.

Fast forward to the year in which you find out about Sukuna Ryomen’s vessel, you were roommates with Shoko- and still have not spoken to Gojo since the incident. You were currently classified as a Special Grade sorcerer, working around to kill curses others needed help with. Imagine your shock when you get a call about a special grade curse at the detention center. 

You got there as fast as you could and saw Toji’s kid with a pink haired boy- no, there was something sinister about it. You got yourself ready and got in between Megumi and Sukuna before he could land a hit on Megumi. 

“Oh what do we have here? Instead of finding women myself, one seems to have come here on it’s own accord”

 “Release him now Ryomen Sukuna”

“Oh what would be the fun in that”

You continued sparring with him, knowing that you can’t kill him as he is inside a vessel. That is… until his heart was ripped out. Of course you’re freaking out when you sense the malicious energy dying out and Yuuji is collapsing on the floor. You disregard the blood staining your clothes and bring Yuuji back to the Tokyo Institute and slam open the door to Shoko’s operation room. The concern for the boy overrides your anxiety, seeing Gojo Satoru right in front of you after all these years.

Now, Gojo couldn’t help but be in awe of you. Of course he has been keeping tabs on how you were doing from Shoko, but seeing you in person now was something he could only think about- never really thinking it would become a reality. He can’t help but think about how he oh so very much wants to hold you and apologize as well as catching up with you. But right now, he shouldn’t be thinking of those things when Yuuji can very well be considered uh… dead.

Of course, after this whole thing and Yuuji magically pops back up- scaring all of you really, you find it in yourself agreeing to become a mentor for Yuuji since Shoko asked. (Shoko is doing Gojo a favor bc she owes him for a favor he pulled for her a little while back LMAO). Gojo is using this experience as an excuse to catch you alone and finally be able to do something he has been wanting to do. 

Gojo was able to corner you and pull you into a hug, while mumbling many sorry’s and maybe even being close to crying (don’t expose him bc i think he’s the type to put smushed rice in someone’s hair)

NOW you just have to forgive him duh, well you may be mad at him for a little longer but he DOES buy you sweets so how can you still be mad,,,

Now you’re teasing him and saying he is “obsessed with you” which he uh… bluntly does not deny

“Yeah y/n, didn’t think it would take you that long to realize”

NOW YOU’RE BLUSHING, and this becomes a beautiful start to your relationship after reconnecting- now you guys can work your way into becoming something more :)

“Wait is that Geto in the cafe with a bunch of curses…”

[becertainlust]

come kitty kitty, come get some fresh writing content!!!

[rieamena]

me doing anything and everything BUT working on wypamn

[kemakoshume]

— In Full Bloom — a springtime love pollen collab ❀

♡ theme — this is a love/sex pollen collaboration event. everything goes for this: sfw, nsfw, or dc! sexual or not.

♡ status: open!

♡ deadline: June 21st, for the last day of spring (very flexible)

a note: the "love pollen" doesn't literally have to be pollen lol. it can be anything that overrides the senses and leads to events *wink wink* :D the possibilities are endless for this concept. i can't wait to see what y'all come up with.

♡ RULES

— this event is 18+ only. i’m an 18+ blog, so i only interact with other 18+ content creators.

— if you’d like to submit a piece just shoot me an ask with the fandom [this is open to all fandoms!!], character(s), rating (sfw, nsfw, dc), and the format (f!reader, m!reader, nb!reader, etc).

— for nsfw and dark content pieces please tag them as such & have any triggers/cw written in the warning section of post itself.

— character x character fics & poly x reader fics are allowed! this is not only for ____ x reader fics.

— the word count minimum is 500 words! headcanons and drabbles are completely fine as long as they fit the wc requirement. art will also be accepted if you’d like to submit something!

— 2 character limit. first come first serve ~ excluding myself.

— please tag #infullbloomcollab on your finished pieces & tag me/dm me the link :D

— (suggestion) if anyone needs some examples lmk! i can definitely come back and add some to this post.

♡ MASTERLIST [ * nsfw, ** dc ]

Jujutsu Kaisen ↴

(*) adult men of jjk x f!reader — @kemakoshume (**)

(*) itadori yuuji x m!reader x fushiguro megumi — @ry0m3n (**)

(*) nanami kento x f!reader — @satorhime (possible DC)

Haikyuu ↴

(*) bokuto x f!reader — @kemakoshume​

My Hero Academia ↴

(*) hawks x f!reader — @kingdomkeigo

(*) tamaki amajiki x f!reader — @sweetforlevi (possible DC)

Demon Slayer ↴

(*) douma x f!reader — @sinfuldxlight (**)

(*) rengoku kyojuro x nb!reader — @moifuyu

Tokyo Revengers ↴

(*) mikey x f!reader — @bontens-cherrykayda

[mar1na1sse]

Masterlist !!

Navigation:

Rules/requesting, planned posts

TOKYO OVERRIDE !!

Hugo x reader ‘ In The Rhythm Of You ’ in which: Dancing with Hugo, something he doesn’t know how to do.

GENSHIN IMPACT !!

Arataki Itto x reader (series) ‘Blind Before You’ In which: Oni are know to be arrogant and bothersome, everything annoying or bad.. so why is it you’re so fond of this one? -> Chapter 1 ‘Rocks Over Roses’,

Arataki gang general head canons !! Warning very old.. Read here

More to come..

[errorlovernotfound99]

Oh~ I think you're holding the heart of mine~

Kai koguma is so ***so*** sweet with you

Smut under the cut

Kai will sit there in her boxers and sports bra her boyish frame leaning over you as her fingers work with precision in your cunt as she hums as your face wrinkles up as she hits a spot on your gummy walls "mhm, that feels good doesn't it?" She'd whisper no doubt about it. She loves fucking you in missionary she just wants to ***see*** you! It's not her fault your look so pretty when I close your eyes focusing on the pleasure shes giving you so wholeheartedly.

She loves you like theres not tomorrow<3

[haikyuuwaifu]

Selfish

Kuroo x Reader x Kenma

MASTERLIST

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Angst, swearing, implied sexual acts

MASTERLIST

PART IV:

The second time:

Third year was a time of stress, college, and change. Kuroo knew from the time he was in his third year of middle school, that he wanted to leave Japan for college. He had never been anywhere  outside of his home country. As laid back as he was, he busted his ass to keep up with his grades. Sure, he partied and had a good time; but he ensured he did well so he could apply to schools like Yale and Harvard. His hope was to get accepted into Harvard. He had heard from former Nekoma graduates that parties in America were wild and he wanted in. Harvard offered a great business program so he figured he’d kill two birds with one stone. You had no plans to leave Japan. As much as you liked the idea of going with Tetsu across the world, it wasn’t your dream. Aside from the New Years incident the two of you hadn’t had another issue. He stopped going to parties for the rest of that year and you two spent all your free time together or with Kenma. The summer before your third year Kuroo was made captain of the Volleyball club and suddenly all the parties started sprouting up again. As uncomfortable as it made you; you trusted him. He stopped inviting you out to parties and just went out on his own. The start of third year found you building time tables and study material so you could do well and get accepted into Miyagi. Instead of spending time with Tetsu at lunch, you were huddled in the library. After school you were usually at the internet cafe or occupying Kenma’s floor as he gamed. While you were busting your ass Kuroo was living the high life. School had never been difficult for him, so he never really had to try. He spent his lunches talking to the cheerleaders and the other sports captains. He would make sure to text you throughout the day, but more often than not if you didn’t text first; he wouldn’t bother. After practice he would go out with the girls of the volleyball team or the cheer squad. It depended on who got to him first. In his mind, what he was doing was harmless; you were his best girl, but you were never his actual girlfriend. Too bad no one thought to inform you of that fact.

As third year carried on the two of you spent less and less time together. When entrance exams came around you spent an entire week holed up in your room preparing. Kuroo spent the whole week in a different girls bedroom every night. 

After the New Years incident the year prior, things were awkward between you and Tetsu. Kenma being caught in the middle asked you what happened. When you explained what happened Kenma only shook his head and carried on with the game he was playing. He didn’t tell you, but that one moment solidified the fact that he just didn’t want anything to do with Kuroo anymore. He only dealt with him during practice and if he had to deal with him on the weekends it was solely because you were there. Any other time he pretended he was busy or ignored any form of contact Kuroo attempted.

While Kuroo decided to party and sleep his way through third year; Kenma was the one who made sure you were eating enough. He learned how to cook and made an extra bento for you every day. He made sure you weren’t overworking yourself and dragged you out of the library after he finds out you’d been sitting in there for hours. Sundays were usually days where you and Kuroo would go out and do something, but with studying and exams; you stayed in and he was hungover. Kenma ended up shutting his games off on Sundays and dragging you all over Tokyo. As much as he hated going out and dealing with people, he didn’t mind going out with you. In the time that he had come to know you, he had grown to see you as someone more than the giver Kuroo liked to take advantage of. 

Kuroo, though selfish, wasn’t an oblivious idiot. He knew deep down that if Kenma could he would tell you about what he had been doing. As aloof as Kenma seemed, he had always been a perceptive child. And he knew that Kenma had grown to respect you. Sometimes Kuroo would feel guilty about the things he had done, and the way he had treated you. But more often than not he would forget about it as quickly as the thought came. You were his best girl afterall, you’d never abandon him. He knew you didn’t have social media outside of FB. You never saw the need for it, so he made sure to keep his posts private and vague; just in case Kenma saw something he felt the need to share with you. 

Entrance exams came and went. You and Tetsu received your letters and were sitting in his bedroom waiting for the other to open it. He had no idea that you didn’t apply to any schools outside of Japan. You had no idea he only applied to Harvard. You knew what his dream was, but deep down you had hoped that what you had was enough to compromise. Ripping your letters open you both screamed as you received the best news you could possibly hope for. Clutching the letter to your chest you smiled. “I got into Miyagi Tetsu, I got into Miyagi!” He looked at you a little confused. “Miyagi?” he questioned taking the letter and reading it over. “Why would you only apply to schools in Japan?” he asked looking up at you. “I told you, Miyagi was my first choice; I want to be a teacher in the prefecture I grew up in.” You murmur softly folding your hands together. Shaking his head he scoffs. “You can be a teacher anywhere baby, and you can learn anywhere...you were supposed to come to Harvard with me.” taking your hands in his he pulls you closer. “We were supposed to go to the US together. Maybe its not too late for you to a-” cutting off his sentence you pull your hands back and shake your head. “I’m not leaving Japan Tetsu...this has been my dream since I was a child. You should be happy for me.” you declare getting up and placing the letter on your desk. “And what about my dreams? You knew I wanted to go to the US.” he demands standing and facing away from you. Touching his shoulder he shrugs away from you. “Sometimes  I wonder who puts more effort into this.”he states making his way towards the door. Opening it he waves his arm, “I need time to think, so you need to go.” You sigh softly, grabbing your bag. You whisper an apology as you make your way to the front door. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk [name] I can’t even look at you right now.” he states watching you walk out the front door.

You spent that evening mulling over all the times you and Tetsu had talked about the future. You recalled him mentioning Harvard and going to the US together. You couldn’t help but feel guilty for overriding his opinions. You had spent so little time together this year that you had forgotten. Laying in your bedroom staring at your ceiling your eyes started bristling with tears just waiting to fall. You felt so guilty for pushing him aside. For not communicating your thoughts and opinions. You loved him after all. Neither of you had ever said it, but you felt that you never had to say it. He must have known you loved him. While contemplating whether or not you were actually going to leave Miyagi your phone started ringing. It was Tetsu. You answered immediately and at first all you could hear was loud music in the background. A few seconds later you heard Tetsu talking into the phone. He was drunk and he had called you to pick him up. You spent 15 minutes trying to get a location out of him ignoring the lewd moaning in the background. Hanging up the phone you grabbed your parents car keys and threw your shoes on. Twenty minutes later you made your way to his most recent location. Weaving through the sweaty bodies you looked around trying to find his signature hairstyle. You walked up the stairs knocking on doors. You reached the last door on the left that was slightly open. 

Placing your hand on the door you push it open only to drop your keys at the sight of Kuroo, head back, mouth open. His pants are around his ankles and his hands are knotted in a strange girl's hair as she takes him into her mouth. “What the fuck Tetsu!” you screech at him. His eyes snap open, red from the alcohol he ingested before you got there. “Fuck, baby no!” he scrambles to pull his pants up as you grab your keys and make your way down the stairs. Rage and sadness fueling your feet to move to the car before letting your tears fall. He follows you stringing out half drunken apologies. “Baby, no...I’m sorry...fuck I’m sorry.” he sobs falling to his knees gripping the back of your knees as you stand in front of the drivers side door. “Fuck, I’m such a fuck up baby.” he sobs. You try to shake him off but he just grips you tighter. Sobs getting louder he pulls you closer. “Don’t leave me [name].” he begs into your thighs. “I know I’m a fuck up, but please...I can’t do this without you...I can’t have a future without you.” the crack in his voice ebbs your anger slightly. Turning you peer down at him and watch as the tears stream down his face. You sigh softly, and stroke his cheeks. “I can’t do this again Tetsu, I came because you called and that’s what I walked into?” you asked. Pushing his face into your thighs he squeezes softly. “I had too much to drink, I was upset because I want you to come to the US with me.” you stroke his hair softly as he continues to explain his reasonings. “I’m sorry I kicked you out earlier. And I’m sorry I said I didn’t support you.” He mumbles softly. “I want you to be happy, and if going to Miyagi is what makes you happy then...we can do the distance.” You pull him up and snuggle yourself into his chest. “Forgive me baby, I need you. You’re my best girl.” he smiles at you softly stroking your cheek. And with the soft smile you find yourself forgiving him once again.

@dabilove27

PART III|PART V

A/N: Angsty Angst >:]

[scriptmin]

Morning Dew [Pr.]

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | TBA

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Angst, violence, Tokyo Ghoul AU | Length: 968

Summary: Tokyo had become a city far too dangerous to call home after the appearance of a mysterious man in white had flipped your world upside down, yet with the way society abominated your kind, was it truly safe anywhere at all?

Notes: This isn’t 100% TG. Some new stuff are incorporated.

You hated the world, and the world hated you—this was no secret.

It laid in the bodies that rot and festered on graves of asphalt, in the rivers of liquid ruby that ran through the city’s gutters. This was a hatred that traveled deep, snaking through veins under skin, through the pages of history and memories of those who lived to tell tales of the feud that bathed generations upon generations in blood not just of the enemy, but also of allies.

But unlike you, the government that ruled with an iron first over your kind was not so proud of the scarlet stains on their robes of dove, stains that couldn’t be washed away even if they soaked a hundred years in bleach. So they had masked their hatred with faux goodness, preaching about safeguarding the livelihoods of their people at the expense of those who fell beyond their line of protection. The ones born into a life of eternal damnation.

You would not call the furtive lurking and constant paranoia of having your identity uncovered much of a life at all. If anything, it were but an existence that you had upheld one day to the next only because you had not yet been eliminated.

Being a naturally predatory species has on the contrary played to your disadvantage in a field so immorally skewed in favour of the majority. You were born to hunt man, yet it was constantly man who held you at gunpoint, man who always won. You understood where their fear stemmed. It had always been the way of mankind to employ violence against anything that threatened their survival, things that were different from them, that they could not understand. As a child, you had even wanted to bridge this misunderstanding, overcome the barrier between species; after all, it was only natural for prey to evade predator. But you were long past that stage of naïvety now with the amount of loved ones you have lost to mankind’s irrationality. You were no longer interested in making peace, not when they had taken the one person they shouldn’t have away from you.

Japan had always been your home. Specifically, the coastal town of Mizushima was where your roots laid under. But you had not been native to her, the parents whom remain anonymous to you being migrants. For one reason or another, they had arrived at this foreign land, conceived you and left you. Although, you had possessed not one shred of resentment for their abandonment, for you had been taken into the home of a local fisherman and raised as his own, alongside three children—a boy and a pair of fraternal twins.

Among them was one whose parents wanted to be named Yoongi so much that they had left a piece of paper of his name clipped to him as they cast him on a rowboat that had floated ashore. And with all the laughter-filled memories you had shared with this boy, never in your life would you expect to be screaming out his name years later, when you would awake all alone in an unfamiliar land drenched in a nightmare’s perspiration, with no other answer to your call apart from the echoes of your own.

A lot of things could change within ten years.

And it began with the maturation of your bodies, the arrival of puberty bringing along the discovery of uniquely different anatomy, taste buds, cravings. It grew more and more demanding, uncontrollable, threatening to override the morals instilled in you by the human-dominated society within which you had been raised. A monster awoke. The hunger struck.

Regular sources of sustenance that you were used to no longer provided any form of nourishment; three were on the brink of starvation before the fisherman had taken matters into his own hands. Yoongi was the only one spared. The boy you spent your entire life with had suddenly smelled like the essence of temptation, each word of concern that spilled from his cherry lips resembled a note in a lustrous siren song, drawing your closer, closer to his neck, hot vapour crawling over skin, salivation slipping from the tip of your tongue in sticky strings.

How can I help, Y/N? Tell me, I want to help you.

Eat… I want to… eat.

Your black and red eyes were foreign to him, but he did not scream, did not run. All the boy did was tilt his head further, exposing the silky, porcelain plane of his neck to your hungering lips. The first drops of scarlet to stain your life poured like honey from the punctures in his flesh, and though it did not come close to satiating the raging earthquake in your stomach, his sacrifice had brought you out of misery for a single fleeting moment. One that still stirred saturated abhorrence for yourself—for what you had become.

From that night on, meat had tasted familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. But curiosity had lost out to hunger, morals bowed down to survival, and you never dared asked where this meat came from, nor why it had been the only form of food that managed to suit your appetite. What you did know was that if you did not eat, it was Yoongi who would suffer.

But that was merely the beginning of a hunger that knew no boundaries, and there were only so many people that could go missing in a town as small as yours before the authorities caught whiff of the copper on your tongues. That was when your escape to Tokyo, a city so thick with scent of humans that it could mask the stench of flesh rotting between teeth, or so you had believed, had set you all on a path of inevitable destruction.