#kisakis eyebrows Tumblr posts

  • 21-06-1996
    17.01.2022 - 4 days ago
    #[ ♡ ]—received #[ ✦ ]—from:harunouna #if i had those exotic eyebrows i would look a lot like kisaki actually #and the hair but whatever lmao #self inserting rn #oh to have shuji lean on me and smile like that #he gotta tell me what eyeliner he using tho #ALSO BAE?? HOW HAVE YOU BEEN
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  • mitsukkai
    06.12.2021 - 1 mont ago

    wait do y'all wanna see my fave thing ever??

    This is how everyone in tokrev sees Kisaki:

    Vs how Hanma sees him:

    Find yourself a man that simps for u THIS hard

    #hankisa #my incredibly fucked up little meow meow skhskalfkdjakeba #like. okay #like. eyebags. fucked up hairline. *deep sigh* of course the eyebrows #and then we get hanmas pov and it's arguably kisakis best panel ever definitely his best past timeline panel #incredible. #tokrev#tokyo revengers
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  • joe-bastianich-is-a-cutie
    02.11.2021 - 2 monts ago

    kisaki falls asleep to true crime podcasts and at some point hanma just accepts it

    #kisaki: knocked out cold tangled in earbuds #podcast: “her legs were cut off her ears were cut off her tongue was cut off her eyebrows were then waxed” #hanma gently putting the phone back “:). ok” #he got curious and that’s his own fault #hankisa#kisaki tetta#hanma shuji#tokyo revengers #i should sleep #check out morbid tho they’re great
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  • adviswhore
    24.08.2021 - 4 monts ago

    Is this depression and unhealthy copying mechanism or am I really thinking that kisaki could be...hot?

    Not me going wild in the tags

    #haitani anon safe me now! #someone slap me maybe? #I mean he's smart and devoted what more do you want? #omfg poppy shut up #but if we ignore the eyebrows- #kisaki tetta #the I'm not the main character thing was relatable #boy casually broke the forth wall
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  • shnya
    24.08.2021 - 4 monts ago
    #📬maxine answers?! #📨signed by?!: anonymous #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tetta kisaki slander #anime #tetta kisaki is ugly af #tetta kisaki eyebrows
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  • shibamisaki
    18.01.2022 - 3 days ago


    TokyoRev Daddies Falling For Bad Guy Y/N


    Y/N is the bad guy scouting for pet- advisors.



    Partly tired and mostly bored. I chuckle as I watch Hanma Shuji, his iconic earring dangling on his ear while he shoves a sack of cement on a truck. It fascinates me that even after losing everything he had and would've had, working a horrendous job and getting under paid doesn't seem to bother him. The once called The Reaper of Kabukicho now a fugitive and barely making a living by working as a construction worker under a false identity. What a waste of potential.

    "That's Tetta Kazuma. Doesn't talk much and just do what he does Madam." The supervisor under my payroll says on my ear. I turned around and raised my eyebrow showing my irritation. He immediately backs off fear plastered all over his face.

    "Your breath stinks don't come close to me. And bring him inside the coffee shop across the street. Don't make me wait."

    The supervisor was offended but he knew better than to show it to you. You sat down in one of the booth and started waiting for Hanma. He arrived 5 minutes later. A little bit too late than what you've wanted to. He sat across you with the same boring look on his face making you chuckle.

    "Let's get to business Hanma work under me and I'll change your life."

    He was immediately intrigued and accepted your proposal with no hesitation.

    You call him Pochi "Puppy" or Dog when you're a bit meaner than usual.

    His life started to have colors again.

    He opened up to you faster than you thought he will.

    Protective of his master.

    You're the only one after Kisaki who made him see colors again.

    Tries to deny his attraction for you but everyday it grows.

    He doesn't care if you treat him bad.

    He insist to be by your side almost 24/7

    Likes spending his day off with you.

    You two always play a dumb game of who can shoplift the most.

    He likes having your attention.

    Got jealous when you started scouting for other pets.

    "Don't fucking talk Pochi. Your voice is fucking annoying."

    "Great job dog."

    Doesn't matter if it's an insult all the words coming out of your mouth is a compliment for him.

    Just as chaotic as you.

    "No! I didn't say kill him you dumb fuck!" You screamed as you flipped the table making Hanma roll his eyes and you caught his actions infuriating you.

    "Don't forget who's feeding you and clothing you dog." You point at him. You replaced everything he had with new more expensive clothes.

    Scared that you'll leave him.

    Insist the he stands on your door to guard you while you sleep.

    "Why do you need other-"

    "Stop pochi, good dogs doesn't question their owners." You dismiss him when he tried to talk to you about you getting new pets- advisors. He dropped the conversation pleasing you.

    "Good dog." You praised him making him smile. You then laid down on your enormous bed. His eyes went to your freshly shaven legs. He wants to lick you so bad but he doesn't he stood watching you move around your bed trying to find your spot.

    "Dog, you can watch me sleep in here for today. A reward for a good dog."


    Taiju wasn't fond of you. He showed it in every way possible. You didn't think he'd stoop low enough to serve you a burnt steak but he did. He wants to play a game? You'd gladly give it to him. You picked up the steak and dropped it on the floor making his blood boil even more. All you wanted for him is to be one of your guard dogs- advisor. But he's too darn stubborn so you do what you're best at.

    "You intrigued me Shiba. A former violent gang leader who sold his violence throughout Tokyo and now you won't even negotiate with me properly?" He ignored you and continued eating. You two sat in front of his aquarium and the setting was quite romantic if only the two of you are dating.

    "I've said it before. I'm not getting involve with your mess-"

    "No, I've heard what you've said before I'm just refusing your answer. You see..." You trail off picking up your Marc Jacob backpack underneath the table pulling out pictures. You admire your work of art before turning your hand showing it to Taiju. His eyes widen as he sees his worker's dead bodies.

    "You fucking bitch-" "I wouldn't finish if I were you." Your playfulness gone. You turned serious something he didn't expect that would come from you. Every time he sees you you're a mischievous little brat who needs a great amount of taming.

    "Ten of your workers dead. Carved or burnt. You choose. All of the weapons has your fingerprints. Believe me I know you donate a generous amount of money to the underfunded police stations but even that won't do shit after my Pochi calls the cops tipping your crimes." Taiju gripped on the butter knife he's holding. He was trying his hardest not to stab you on the neck. You laughed like a maniac before picking up your wine glass. You swirl the wine inside it before pouring it slowly to the floor. Taiju was beyond angry at this point. Vein popping on his forehead and his whole body tense. He wants to fucking kill you so bad.

    "I don't drink wine but cheers to us. Welcome brother."

    Taiju had no choice but to be yours. He hates it. And he hates you.

    You call him "brother" irritating him every single time.

    It was chaos when you first introduced him to your Pochi.

    Pochi hated your brother and your brother hated him and you love seeing them fight. Although it always end with your Pochi badly beaten.

    He's a smart businessman and he negotiates well with your investors.

    He hates you. Hated you. His hate slowly faded away when you showcased your talents for heist tactics and when you finally showed him how brutal you can be.

    But the hate fully disintegrated when he saw your nice part. A warm part once every month that comes for a duration of exactly 3 minutes.

    He didn't really care at first. But now he does.

    You like wearing oversize hoodies and shirts. And he purposely leaves his on your penthouse.

    He got angry when you threw it away instead of wearing it.

    "Why the fuck did you threw my shirt away?" He questions you as he takes a sip of his coffee he made without your permission. He didn't even dare to sit on your couch the first few months after you blackmailed him but now? He acts like he owns your house.

    "That was yours? Damn, you got no fashion sense at all."


    "Fuck you."

    He's serious most of the time but when you're alone with him the loud motherfucker comes out.

    No one would ever think a giant motherfucker like him could be so loud.

    "No, I'm just asking."

    "What kind of question was that Taiju? Why do you wear bra? The fuck."

    "I mean you have no boobs at all."

    "You're pissing me off. Get out of my penthouse and call Pochi-" He laughs making you kiss your lips irritated and ready to kill him. He finds flat boob jokes funny but you don't.

    "I have boobs."

    "Lemme touch it."



    Scouting him was easy. He was in debt and he had nothing more to lose. He accepted your offer and you were delighted to have an older pet- advisor.

    You call him Papa and he hates you for it.

    You like older men and you're not afraid to show it to him.

    You casually teases him.

    "C'mon now Papa." You tugged on his belt pulling him closer to you. His face remained stoic but you know he's getting hard.

    “Make me a mama.” You’ll whisper on his ear when you’re on top of his lap straddling him. It always aroused him but refrains himself from doing something he’ll regret.

    He likes when you play with his hair.

    Your innocent hugs are the best.

    Pochi and Taiju gets jealous when you sit on his lap.

    But when you're angry he doesn't get any of that.

    "Takeomi I'll have you thrown in the fucking ditch if you don't fucking do your damn job." Stressed out and infuriated because of his botched job. His wrath from disappointing you will land on your enemies.

    He doesn't like to see you angry or stressed out

    Gives you foot massages.

    You like his abs. And the way he's older than you.


    Hanma is the loose one.

    He likes you because you give him a will to live.

    He enables all of your bad habit.

    You don't usually drink. But when you do and you're with him it's game over for you. You'll be passed out with him.

    That's when Taiju or Takeomi comes. They'll dragged your asses back to your safe house. They'll be scolding you the moment you wake up.

    Taiju is the strict one when it comes to business.

    He'd be glad to tame your bratty ass.

    But he's smart enough to know you're not that kind of woman.

    You'd be the one in control.

    He hated you with all of his heart but now he can't help but to imagine being touched by your soft delicate fingers.

    You were never nice to them for more than 3 minutes but that was enough hope for him that there's a good part of you.

    He craves the kindness beneath your evil ass.

    He loves your eyes.

    Takeomi likes you because as stupid as it sounds. You calm him even though you're the embodiment of chaos.

    He likes your touches. It's the only thing he looks forward every day.

    The three of them doesn't get along except when you're angry.

    You were looking forward on spending a day alone but they all appeared unexpectedly.

    "The fuck are you all doing on my turf this early?" You question them while you rub your eyes.

    "We wanna spend our day off with you." A scowl appeared on your face scaring them a little.

    "Fuck outta my face." You try to slam your door but Taiju pulled the door open irritating you.

    "What the fuck- I was planning to fucking go in a Japanese Barbecue eat all you can restaurant so please-" "We'll come with you." Hanma says with a wide grin on his face. You were two seconds away from punching Takeomi.( Only because he's the shortest out of the three) When a great idea come up in your sick and twisted mind.

    "Sure, but at the end of the day you'll have to do what I say." They didn't think much of it and just agreed.

    Poor little boys. They have no idea that you're planning to make them fuck each other and maybe you'll join who knows? ;)


    Plagiarism is a crime.

    #hanma x you #tokyorev smut#tokyo revengers#hanma shuji#hanma imagine #hanma shuuji x reader #tokyo revengers hanma #hanma headcanons#tokyo rev#bonten#taiju shiba #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers fluff #fantasy#fanfic#taiju smut#shiba taiju #taiju x y/n #tokyo revengers taiju #takeomi headcanons#anime#yandere takeomi#akashi takeomi#bonten takeomi #tokyo revengers takeomi #takeomi hcs#takeomi smut#takeomi fluff
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  • justyuuko
    09.01.2022 - 1 week ago

    — — — — — — —

    ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

    ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆。˚ ⋆

    ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆

    ┊ ┊ ★⋆

    ┊ ◦

    ★⋆ ┊ . ˚


    Quick Reminder: I am not a professional writer and these stories are just for practice so I apologise if there are mistakes. Correct me on them.

    ✧. *ೃ༄ "His brother ?! Yeah no shit Sherlock."

    ༄"It all started with a meet up. Nothing more nothing less— Well, not really-"

    In the heat of the summer afternoon you could see a little boy whining to his big brother about the plans that the big doofus had spoiled by saying a simple, "I dOn'T HaVe TimE !" That was bullshit even in the eyes of little Y/N who had been patiently waiting for the weekends to go to the amusement park with his big brother, Kisaki Tetta. "Look, Ani, I wouldn't be throwing a tantrum if you just kept your promise and took me to the amusement park like you said. But no, My big ass brother has stuff to deal with. Well, WHAT ABOUT ME YOU BOZO ?!- I should be the first and foremost shit you have to deal with everyday. Instead it's me dealing with yours.", Y/N bites back to the previous reply his brother had given him. Kisaki rubs his eyes and furrows his already furrowed eyebrows, "Y/N, I'm sorry but Mikey asked me to come with him today. I won't be able to spend time with you. You know how important this is to me." The taller blondie took off his specs and kept them on top of his head, "How about this, if, only IF you agree to not go today I'll get you the game you had always wanted." The little s/c boy seemed to ponder because of that deal, the whines stopping….

    And that is how Y/N ended up in the children's park's swing ALONE, With no brother, just for a game. "Well, who would say no to games? Could not be me." The boy licks his ice cream, which Kisaki had given him as a cherry on top to keep him from whining no more. "Well, He never said I couldn't follow him ! Dumb Ani, Nishishishishi, You forgot to mention something that important to this hunk of a man yet again. So, Mission: 'Search for your brother and spoil his plans back' Commence !" The h/c got up from the swing and out into the battlefield known as society, cars and roads. ".... Where did he go though….", But what this boy forgot was he didn't know Kisaki Tetta's location at all. Only knew that some bitch ass probably rat looking person named 'Mikey' had stolen his brother from him.

    Y/N embarked on his journey to find his brother. He looked like a lost puppy in other's eyes cause he stuck to walls, no one being there with him. "Ani… You'll pay for making me suffer." He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. Finally letting go of that poor wall. Y/N moved forward trying to figure shit out by himself. We stan an independent 'man'. The child tried hard not to get distracted by anything and to keep track on where the fuck he was but like any protagonist would Y/N got distracted by a fluffy and cute dog barking at him and chasing him down. After running from that dog constantly for more than five minutes our little Y/N huffed, trying to breath steady. "Fucking… Dogs… Always…. After me. Why—……." What crucial thing he forgot was to take note of where he was. So now, Y/N was unfortunately lost in a maze of alleys. He blinks, his expression a smile with no hope as if someone had just ruined someone's family jewels.

    Takemichi, the dumbass who got involved in almost everything, was heading to the Musashi Shrine because of a Tōman meeting. He didn't even realise when he bumped into a poor kid and tumbled down the steeped road, "OI!- Why are you crouched between a road ?!— Someone could seriously get hurt, you know !" He screamed getting up from that uncomfortable pose to look at the child. That was when he took in the child's appearance, The child looked…. Hopeless ? (Nagito would be sad.) "I- Kid you okay ?!- Did you get lost or something ? Did you hit your head ? Where are your parents ?!" The kid picked his ears with a fake wince and glared at the blondie, "Not everyone has punishments in the form of privileges named parents, you know blondie ?" Takemichi stood stuck because he didn't expect that response. "Anyways, I am lost because a big dog chased me while I was searching for my brother. I'm Y/N by the way." The little boy, now known as Y/N by the crybaby hero, says with a pout, folding his hands and looking away.

    Y/N sighed, flailing his arms. "Mr. Blondie, could you help me ?" The blonde corrected Y/N, "It's takemichi." "Okay blondie." The blondie gave up. "Yeah I could, What's your brother's name ?" Y/N smiled brightly at Takemichi. The blondie i.e Takemichi looked like an angel who would help him in his eyes. "It's Kisaki !" Takemichi wasn't a mind reader. He obviously couldn't guess what the full name of the guy even was forgetting the awfully familiar antagonist. "Full name Y/N-Kun." "Kisaki Tetta !" The child says with innocence, as if he didn't have a clue on the shit his brother got involved in.

    "Wait- WAIT— KISAKI TETTA ?!- KISAKI HAD A BROTHER ?!" Takemichi expressed his newfound shock in the form of screams which made little Y/N throw his shoe on Michi's face. "Shut the fuck up blondie ! You're too loud !" Y/N glares at the fallen takemichi. "Whatever, He said he was going to meet someone named fucking Mikey. Like why Mikey ? Was he trying to imitate Mickey Mouse ? I bet his ass is as short as me." The blonde couldn't help but gasp in shock, "I-I-I- Y/N-Kun- I don't think you should say that when you're in front of Mikey-Kun-" The kid clearly irritated looked at Takemichi right in the eyes, "Why's that ? Like I do not have anything against the name Mikey but the one who stole my brother on our brother's weekend just sucks ass for me." Y/N speaks with no remorse, no regret on his face whatsoever. Takemichi who had now given up yet again, just sighs, "I'm heading to Mikey…. Come on, I'll take you there."

    Y/N got on Takemichi's back because he was tired from all the running while the blondie headed up the stairs of the Shrine, "Yo Takemicchi ! You're late. We already introduced a new member." A short blonde with a pretty cute haircut spoke while pointing to the person Y/N refers to as Kisaki or his brother.

    "We have a new member ?—". "Yes, He'd be of good help because of his numbers." A tall teen with a dragon tattoo walks up to the two who were talking. "Hey Takemicchi." Mikey perked his head to the little figure on Takemichi's back, "Oh, by the way. Who's that kid on your back ?" He asks with a raised brow. "Ah, Mikey-Kun this is—" Y/N quickly got off Takemichi's hand as soon as he heard the name Mikey. And let me tell you, Mikey was taller than Y/N which did not make Y/N happy. "So you are the small ass child who stole my brother." Kisaki's head turned towards the voice so fast that Hanma was worried for that neck's wellbeing.

    "Hah ? Normally I don't hit kids but you disrespected me and accused me. So get ready." Mikey cracked his knuckles and glared at Y/N. "I did not- You puny ass blondie. You stole away the time I could have had with my brother ! YOU MEANIE-" Kisaki was as fast as flash, grabbing Y/N by his mouth and pulling him towards himself. "You- WHY ARE YOU HERE-DIDN'T WE HAVE A DEAL-" Y/N said something but it was muffled, "Yes, we had a deal but the deal didn't say I couldn't follow you Ani." The cheeky kid spoke with a successful grin, a grin that screamed, 'Ha ! BEAT THAT !'

    "Heh ? You brought a kid to a meeting this important ? You're a fucking dumbass." A long black haired guy punched Takemichi for something he was not even responsible for- "I- Whooo, He went flying. Emotional damage !" Y/N yelled with a grin, currently on his brother's shoulder. He didn't even care that there were so many gang members in front of him. "Hahaha, I like this kid." Hanma, A lanky and tall ass teen says with a 'sweet' grin. "Oi Baji ! Don't hit him. The kid's Kisaki's brother." Draken says stopping the pyromaniac from hitting the blondie again when they heard a laugh from the demon himself.

    "Yo!— Brother stealing people, I am the great conqueror Y/N, REMEMBER ME—" On that fateful night, the Tōman met the demonic child.

    #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev #x child reader #x male reader #anime x reader #anime#tokyo revengers
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  • getoswhore
    09.01.2022 - 1 week ago
    #screaming#crying#thrashing around#toes curling #feet swinging in the air #twirling my hair around #ass puckered up 🏃‍♀️💨 #BUNNY#IM 🥺 #IM.MMMMM🥺🥺🥺🥺 #this omfg okay wow my cheeks are so warm rn 🥺🥺 #literally all fuzzy after reading that 🥺🥺🥺 #like *sniffs* thank you 🥺🥺🥺 #cause PHEWWEE THAT WAS SO CUTE N SOFT N BUBBLE N ADORABLE IT WAS EVERYTHING #saving this forever 🥺 #N PLS THE LAST PART CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD SKFKDJVJDJC #ᥫ᭡ — bunny! #ᥫ᭡ — moots! #ᥫ᭡ — bimbo answers!
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  • y-umiko
    06.01.2022 - 2 weeks ago

    “I’m Just Using Her”

    CHARACTERS: Shuji Hanma

    WARNING/S: Language

    "Do you like her?"

    Hanma didn’t know what prompt Kisaki to ask him that, the said male never showed any interest in his past relationships, hell anything in his life. thinking Kisaki was just being annoying he reluctantly answered him a resounding;


    Not hearing a heartbreak at the denial, saying he didn’t like you even one bit came out his mouth without a thought, cause that’s what you are to him. a way to get revenge to Draken, your older brother. he’ll court you, make you like him, then break your heart. he was so sure it would hurt and make Draken angry to the point of going out of control. 

    Hanma was actually confused why Kisaki was questioning him, after all, it was all his plan, make Hanma approach you, befriend you, date you so they can get to Draken and get rid of him once and for all. at first, he find it such a drag, going into a tedious plan like that when he actually preferred the thrill of all-out fighting but after Kisaki made a point and reassured him that the outcome would surely entertain him, he agreed. 

    Courting was an indifferent thing for him, but as usual, Kisaki had made it possible for him, having a group of delinquents to corner you and had Hanma right at the same place and the same time to save you, insisting you repaid him back with a meal which you agreed, Afterall, debt should always be paid, and just like that you were caught in their trap. 

    Hanma was very patient in courting you, spending his free time with you almost every single day, from walking you to the train station, to accompanying you to buy some stuff, even bringing you an umbrella one time you have forgotten to bring one, and little by little he got to know you. you were more amusing than anything he had seen and known. you were just a part of the plan yet when you agreed to go out with him, his heart swelled.

    When Draken found out you’ve been going out with Hanma, he confronted you about it, even catching you in the act as you and Hanma had gone out to eat some ice cream. Hanma has a grin on his face, ready for another fight with Draken but when you stood up for him, defending him against your own brother, He didn't know what to feel. 

    “Do you love her then?” Kisaki further asked with narrowed eyes, Hanma blinked at him, huffing a puff of smoke and exhaling it before casually answering. 

    "No...I'm just using her"  He said with an insistent tone, yet somehow it tasted bitter coming out his mouth. was it because he remembers your quirky habits, your beaming smile, or the peace of mind you bring him? Without him noticing He began prioritizing you over everything, even forgetting about their plan, maybe that was what urge Kisaki to do what he did. Hanma was so lost in his love that little by little he began changing and that change made him forget just how sly Kisaki can be.

    "Good, this won't make me feel bad about this then" Kisaki casually said as he looked past Hanma with a passive gaze prompting him to also turn around making him tense up and feel his heartbreak as he saw you standing there.

    Eyes red, tears threatening to fall but you hold your ground. You were strong this way. There was no emotion on your face, normally he can read you like a book, he knows when your sad, when your happy or when your mad, but this time he can't see anything and it frightens him.

    “what are you doing here?” he asked instead of words comfort that he had intended to say, but it was already too late to backtrack now so he went with it.

    your eyes shifted looking anywhere but him, "you texted me to come here” your voice quivering since you’re on the verge of tears. Hanma furrowed his eyebrows, with no memory of ever contacting you, then his head snapped to Kisaki who has a glint on his eyes.

    “ It’s good to know where I stand” you whimpered, voice shaky as you bowed slightly and turned away, before sprinting away. Hanma can only stare into the space where you were just standing, finding it hard to catch up with what's happening and what he's feeling.

    Kisaki had stepped up and placed a hand on his shoulder “Congratulations, you’ve done your part, now stage two of our plan will commence, be prepared” 

    was all he said before walking away, leaving Hanma alone letting the shock settle in. realizing he was fucked. 

    #Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Revenger x reader #tokyorev chifuyu #tokyorev x reader #Tokyo Revengers Hanma #Tokoy Revengers Hanma Shuji x reader #hanma shuuji x you
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  • sukunasbabymama
    05.01.2022 - 2 weeks ago
    #☺︎︎. answered
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  • katsupeach
    18.12.2021 - 1 mont ago

    the cipher - mikey x reader, ran x reader, rindou x reader

    summary - you’d been dating Haitani Ran for nearly six months when you discover a letter in code on his desk. When you decipher it, it brings more questions than answers.

    a/n - rough sex, sub reader, intrigue, code, mystery, ran and mikey are both in love with you, reader is in grad school, smut. I’ll add to this when I’m done plotting. bonten ish timeline. this ch: drugging of read(consensual), alcohol, jealousy, mikey kisses ran's gf. not real manga spoilers i killed some characters off pre this timeline but that’s an emme thing not necesarily a wakui thing. 

    ch 1 - mistakes (2k Words)

    *this is for @keizos’s scorpio collab and it’s very late*

    playlist TBD | join the taglist | next chap

    Ran bursts into the room loudly and Mikey scowls, unable to look away from his subordinate’s huge hand resting on the curve of your waist. Ran’s silver rings glint in the low light of the private dining room at the back of the club, and despite his best efforts, Mikey can’t help but bristle at the mark of casual ownership as you shift your weight uncomfortably.

    “What’s so important that I needed to drive across town?” He drawls, violet eyes icy. “We good to just let her wait outside?” Kokonoi nods, and gestures to one of the men by the door.

    “Keep an eye on Ran’s,” he pauses, and Mikey’s stomach does a backflip as a huge smile spreads across your face, and you glow with joy like a candle lit on a cold winter night. You giggle, the sound is bell like, it cuts through the smokey silence.

    “She’s my girlfriend.” Ran says, the way someone announces a hard earned promotion, and the way you smile at the idea of belonging to, to that fucking oaf pushes Mikey to down the rest of his drink. “So keep your hands to yourself, huh,” he says to the man with a wink, who nods.

    “Yes sir.” He says. You take the new man’s arm agreeably, and Ran palms him some cash, before collapsing on the table, and pouring himself a drink.

    “Girlfriend, huh?” Kokonoi says, raising an eyebrow.

    “He just wants kids.” Rindou pipes up from the corner, bitterness dripping from his voice. “He’s not gonna stick with this once he gets what he wants.”

    “I absolutely am,” Ran counters, a cocky smile playing on his lips, “Have you seen her? And she’s the best pussy I’ve ever gotten, so guess what, fellas?” Rindou groans, massaging his temples. “I’m locking it down.”

    “You’d have to,” Rindou snips, “Before she realizes she’s a grad student with a world class IQ dating someone who’s preferred method of argument is a brick-” Ran rolls his eyes.

    “Enough.” Mikey says quietly, ending the conversation. Kokonoi pushes a folder across the table. “Someone sent this to Kisaki.” Ran raises his eyebrows.

    “To Kisaki?” He opens the folder, and takes out a folded letter, printed on heavy cardstock. It’s embossed with a blood red dragon. The letter itself is incomprehensible at first glance, complete gibberish. “Why would we get a letter in code?” He murmurs, “What’s the purpose?”

    “Look at the address at the top.” Rindou says, a touch of impatience to his voice. Ran obeys, brow furrowing.

    “That’s the address to the apartment we shared that summer,” Ran says, “That’s an address in Roppongi?”

    “Whatever’s in this letter,” Rindou says, “It’s addressed to you and I.” Ran nods, snapping a picture of the letter on this phone.

    “The red dragon’s are new,” Mikey says, “Whoever they are, I’ve never heard of them.”

    “Where’s Kakucho,” Ran asks, fumbling for his Juul, taking a puff. “And uh, the rest of ‘em?”

    “Busy.” Mikey responds. “I’ll read them in. See if you can make sense of the letter.” Ran nods, “Whatever it is, it seems to have to do with the two of you.”

    Ran finds you at the party easily, your laugh coruscating above the low music, the cloud of smoke, the hum of conversation. He relaxes a little, when he sees you standing with another woman.

    “Baby,” he says, snaking an arm around your waist. “Who’s this?”

    “Elena,” You gesture to the woman, who is beautiful, in a slinky purple dress, her dark eyes sparkling in the low light. “This is my boyfriend,” you can’t say it without giggling, “Haitani Ran.” He moves to stand behind you, folding over a little so that he can tuck your head under his chin. “Elena works with um,” you gesture, trying to remember, “Your um, your friend, Kokonoi.” Ran sizes two things up very quickly, one, there’s no way Elena works with Koko, her dress is off the rack, her nails are unmanicured, and there’s a tattoo that snakes around her neck and down her back of a python, it’s eyes as cold and dead as her own.

    “She was just getting me a drink,” you say, and Ran shoots her a warm smile that she only half returns,

    “If you’ll forgive me,” He says, “I'll get my lady here a drink, I’m old fashioned like that.” Elena presses her lips together. “Koko will be out in a bit, if you want to see him?” She shakes her head.

    “Oh,” you reach out and touch her arm, “But you were looking for him, right?” Ran narrows his eyes behind you.

    “I can have some people show you where he is?” He keeps his tone casual.

    “I will find him myself.” She says, giving you both a curt smile. “Nice to meet you, Haitani.”

    “Likewise.” He watches her disappear into the crowd, “Sweetheart, you look fucking stunning,” You laugh again, tension dissipating, “Seriously, every guy in here is eyeing up what’s mine,” he takes your arm and spins you like you’re swing dancing.

    “Ran,” you laugh again and he spins you into his chest. “You’re just paranoid,” he cups your face with both hands, leaning down and kissing you tenderly before leading you onto the dance floor.

    Mikey stands at the doorway, watching Ran’s hands wander your body, pulling your hips flush against his own.

    “You could have asked her out,” Mikey doesn’t jump at Kokonoi’s voice behind him. “You saw her first.”

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turns to the other man, who raises his eyebrows.

    “So we’re going to pretend you’re not staring at Ran’s girl instead of going home with any other woman here.” He says, a smirk flashing on his face. “That’s fine, boss, I can look away” Mikey shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

    “I don’t,” he says, frustrated, “You don’t just pull someone into this life, without thinking about it.”

    “Is that what’s bothering you?” Koko drawls, “That he didn’t think?” Mikey turns away from the party, heading back to the private dining room. “It’s Haitani,” Koko follows him, “He wanted something so he took it.”

    “When you pick flowers, they die.” Mikey says, emotionless, remembering the cut roses on Emma’s, on Baji’s, on Draken’s graves. He steps into the private room, Rindou’s left to join the party. “I was thinking, that when you pick flowers, they die.” He massages his temples.

    “Well he was thinking about her pussy,” Koko says, pouring himself another drink. Mikey groans loudly.

    “My head hurts.” He complains, the dull throbbing at the back of his neck only grows by the hour, he takes another swig of his drink. “Tell them that I want everything on these red dragons on my desk in the morning. Everything they can find in twelve hours.”

    “Yes, sir.” Kokonoi responds, and Mikey hesitates.

    “Why don’t you join the party?” He asks, and he sees it again, that heavy, dark sadness, that mutual feeling that had sparked the friendship between them.

    “There’s nothing for me out there.” He says, gravel in his voice. Mikey nods, and goes to get another drink.

    The party is in full swing a few hours later, when he watches you slink off, stumbling down a hallway. He sighs, following you, Ran’s distracted by some spectacle, drugs, maybe, he hopes it’s another woman but knows that you somehow have held his attention longer than any of your predecessors. He finds you laying on a bench, and he nearly stops breathing when you reach for him. For a moment he wonders if you’ve made a mistake, but when he sits next to you, you sigh his name, a soft, sad song. You rest your head on his shoulder. He can feel the warmth of your cheek through his t-shirt.

    “Am I an idiot?” You slur a little, and he grunts lightly, breaking every rule he has when he slips an arm around your waist, his fingers sinking into your hip. He doesn’t answer, so you lift your head a little, but he pushes you back down into his shoulder.

    “You’re drunk.” He responds. You can feel the base from the party downstairs reverberating through the walls.

    “But am I,” you sigh, “What am I doing, Mikey?” You rub your eyes. “I know, alright, I know you ‘n Ran don’t work in finance.” You sigh, picking at the hem of your dress. His stomach drops to his feet, but his heart thrums in his chest at your closeness. “I know you’re, you’re involved in some bad shit.”

    “Bad shit?” Mikey repeats, almost not listening to you, delighting in your body pressed against his.

    “I’m not,” you sit up a little but he pushes you back down again, this time tucking your head under his chin. “I’ve seen things, alright, but that's not important. I’d never, never do anything to hurt you, or him.” He’s silent, you smell so good, like sweet shampoo and dreaming, like the crisp fall air, the last time he’d felt invincible. “M right, aren’t I?” You say, having given up trying to move away from him to look in his eyes.

    “You’re safe.” he says, by way of confirmation. “I’d never let anything,” his grip on you tightens, “Not anything ever, happen to you.”

    “I trust you.” You murmur and his chest aches dully.

    “You’re not going to remember this,” He says.

    “Fuck you,” you giggle, “Yeah I will.”

    “No,” he says, taking a flask from his pocket, and dropping a pill into it. “No you won’t.”

    “Mikey,” you whine, “Don’t wanna, don’t wanna forget.” You nuzzle into him. “I had fun, had a good time.”

    “Be a good girl for me,” he says, his heart aching in his chest, but his eyes darkening. “Drink up.” You take the metal flask in your hands, you let out a short huffy breath. He reaches out to tip it into your mouth. He stops, a thought forming, and before he can stop himself, he leans forward. “Just, give me this.” There’s something soft in his tone borne from one of the last warm parts of his soul. He leans forward and kisses you hard, grabbing at your face, sucking at your lower lip with a clumsy, desperate hunger. He pulls away, breathing heart, his blood roaring in his ears.

    “Mikey, am I making a mistake?” you whisper, looking at him, confusedHe presses his lips together, thinking for a moment, before taking the flask from you and holding it to your lips. You drink obediently, and then wipe your mouth, coughing.

    “You already made one,” he says, letting you lay down on the bench. You rest your head on his lap, and unconsciousness sweeps you away. He starts to pet your head but he withdraws his hand quickly as he hears Ran thundering up the stairs. Ran takes in the scene for a second before sighing with relief. His eyes are wild, and his hands are shaking.

    “Shit, we’re uh, Sanzu brought a fuckton of coke, is she passed out?” Mikey nods, flashing the metal flask. “Ugh,” Ran rubs his eyes. “What did she see?” Me, Mikey thinks.

    “She’s onto you.” He says shortly, reluctantly scooting away from your unconscious form. “Onto us. You gotta read her in or cut her loose.” Ran nods, eyes artificially wide and focused.

    “You give her something?” He asks and Mikey nods, standing.

    “She’s not gonna remember tonight.” Ran nods again, slower this time,

    “Probably for the best,” He lifts you up off the couch, “She wasn’t having a good time,” he coos down at your limp form, “She never drinks that much, I dunno what got into her.” Mikey doesn’t respond for a moment, thinking. “Shit, though, she was talking to someone, I wanted to ask her about it.” He muses, turning to Mikey. “Woman said her name was Elena, and that she was here for Koko, but obviously wasn’t. Snake tattoo. Ring a bell?” Mikey shakes his head, looking mildly concerned.

    “Are you going to take her home?”

    “Back to my place.” Ran confirms. “I’ll uh, I’ll do coke with Sanzu another time.” This, Mikey thinks, this is the worst part. Because if Ran were shitty, and awful, and villainous, he could justify it, he could have Sanzu put a bullet in his fucking head, and be done with it, he could sweep you off your feet, buy you anything you wanted, fuck your brains out. But you bring out a side of the executive that Mikey’s never seen before. It’s almost, kind. Almost. “Gotta take care of my bitch,” he kisses your forehead, cooing condescendingly. “If I don’t lay her down right she could choke on her own puke if she throws up, these forget me pills are strong shit.” A vein in Mikey’s forehead twitches.

    “Are you reading her in?” He pushes.

    “To the Bonten shit?” Ran looks conflicted, and Mikey knows why. Knows that the ‘bad shit’ Ran and Bonten gets up to might scare you away for good. “Nah, I dunno,” he hesitates, leaning against the wall. “I dunno.” He repeats. You let out a soft, uncomfortable moan. “Alright, alright,” he grumbles, shifting you so that your face is in his neck, and he’s holding you with one hand. “Baby let’s getcha home.” He thumps down the stairs and as soon as he’s gone Mikey whips the metal flask as hard as he can at the opposite wall.

    “Fuck,” he snaps, when it just dents the wall and doesn’t break, and rubs his eyes. “Fuck.”

    #mikey x reader smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader #haitani ran#ran haitani#haitani rindou #ran haitani smut #rindou smut #haitani rindou smut #ran x reader #rindou x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader
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  • hinatastinygiant
    12.12.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Chapter Fourteen

    Pairing: Mitsuya x Fem!Reader

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    Y/N'S P.O.V.

    "So now what?" you ask after hearing Mitsuya's story. "How can we prove that Yuzuha's fiancée is connected to Kisaki?"

    You're still sitting next to him like you were before, just with a head full of more confusing thoughts than you ever thought possible.

    "I'm not exactly sure," he shrugs. "I've got no leads."

    "Well we need to do something! Break them up or tell Yuzuha what's going on! She deserves to know at least," you say as you nod your head, convincing yourself that what you've suggested is the best next move.

    "No," Mitsuya replies, shaking his head side to side. "Yuzuha's happy and there's nothing to suggest he's bad for her. We should just leave them alone."

    You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes in disagreement. "I don't think you should let your feelings for Yuzuha and their wedding dictate that..."

    His eyes widen as if you have huge balls bringing up his feelings for her right now. "That's the opposite of what I'm doing, Y/N! I'm trying to not let my feelings get in the way!"

    "As Yuzuha's friends at least we can't just let her be with some suspicious ass guy that she hardly knows, don't you think?"

    Mitsuya sighs, still not seeing things from your perspective. "If she hardly knew him, she wouldn't be marrying him, you know."

    "Fine," you scoff. "Then don't come with me but I'm going to talk to Yuzuha. We're friends so she'll talk to me about how she met him and what he's like. If we can just get a feel about the guy then maybe-"

    "Seriously, Y/N, butt out!" he groans. "I wouldn't go up to Draken and ask him why he's marrying Emma."

    "Because we know Emma!" you argue back. "We don't know who the hell this Chikao guy even is! He could be a murderer for all we know! Not to mention he's working with sketchy-ass Kisaki," you scoff. "That's enough red flags for me to realize that something needs to be done."

    Mitsuya only scoffs in response. You think back to that day you were first introduced to Chikao, not that you knew it at the time how important he was, but maybe if you can think hard enough, you can remember something important... You had to sign those papers, supposedly just to help a friend out. That was total bullshit. Why did Chikao have to be there for that?

    Your eyebrows knit together as you concentrate back on that day. However, nothing out of the ordinary comes to your mind. You can't blame yourself, though. Hanma had made sure you were super fucked up before going into that meeting.

    "Hey, Mitsuya. What was Chikao doing that day I signed that b.s. paper for him and Kisaki? I know you were there, don't deny it. I saw you."

    "Yeah, I was there," he sighs. "I was trying to get some kinda information on them, but I ended up with nothing. It's just more evidence that Chikao and Kisaki are plotting something, but not anything to do with what they're plotting or who Chikao is."

    "So you do care!" you beam.


    You smirk as a plan begins to formulate in your mind. "Alright, fine," you sigh. "Want me to give you a ride home?"

    "If it's not too much trouble, yes please."

    "Noooo," you smile. "Not at all! It's never a problem for you, bud."

    Your smile widens as you stand up and walk away with the excuse that you're going to change your clothes.

    "But there is someplace I need to stop off at first..." you hum just quiet enough that Mitsuya doesn't hear you as you leave the room.

    A few minutes later, you and Mitsuya hop on your bike. You don't say anything as you drive, but he quickly picks up on the fact that you're heading the wrong way.

    "Where are you taking me, Y/N?" he sighs.

    "Just a quick detour..." you hum. "To-"

    "Yuzuha's," he finishes for you, sighing.

    "Sorry, Mitsuya, but I want to talk to her. I'll be subtle. I promise. You don't even have to come in if you don't want to."

    "Alright fine," he groans. "I'll go with you. This better be quick."

    "It will," you smile, "and then you can go home and go back to feeling sorry for yourself since you won't take my advice."

    "Ouch," he deadpans. "But you know, you could have at least let me shower first before bringing me to see her."

    "Ohhh so that's what that smell is!" you tease.

    Mitsuya jabs you in the side with two of his fingers. You let out a shocked gasp and involuntarily serve the bike almost into oncoming traffic. Luckily, Mitsuya steadies it by pressing his back into yours and placing his hands on the handlebars, over top of your own.

    "Don't be so reckless," he hums in your ears. "Focus on your driving, Y/N."

    After a brief wave of chills travel down your spine beginning in your ear from where he whispers to you, you furrow your eyebrows in frustration since he's the one who started it.

    "Okay, I see how it is... Jerk!"

    Mitsuya chuckles. "That's the least you deserve for tricking me!"

    "Tricking you is severely insignificant against dying in a car crash!" you shout.

    He smiles to himself as he slowly removes his hands from over top of yours. He leans back and runs his hand through his hair as he contemplates your argument.

    "Yeah, alright. But if you can't drive, pull over and I'll do it."

    "Oh please, like I'd ever let you drive my bike! In your dreams, you jerk!" you reply as you yell over the sound of the wind increasing while you slowly push your foot down on the gas.

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    Taglist: @darkmess0 @wakasa-wifey @plaggi @daiserenade @lunastellanova @sseorin @jinchuriki-hunter

    #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x you #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya tokrev #takashi mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya x y/n #takashi mitsuya x you #x fem!reader #x reader#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers series #tokyo revengers self insert #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #hinatastinygiant#wicked games#fanfiction series#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#wattpad
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  • boredandelusive
    12.12.2021 - 1 mont ago

    TokyoRev React: Ep 14

    Episode 14

    plot twist: Kisaki’s the third division captain

    OH HELL NO. Why did I have to guess right? You’re kidding. YOU’RE KIDDING

    that’s kisaki, dumbass. look at the eyebrows, stupid bitch. Come on, now, put two and two together.

    So this is how shit goes awry, how ironic

    are you gonna kill him? You should kill him, like, a little knife to the neck

    he’s from Moebius? Really? That’s saf. You coudln’t think of anyone else, right? Surely that’s what happened.

    EVENTUALLY?! My ass, you mean like next week? 

    you don’t need him for shit. Don’t be stupid, Mikey. Please, I love you, but don’t make me want to kick you in the nuts

    the fuck are you cheesing about? 


    as you should. As you fucking should. In 12 years, you’re gonna see how much you’ll appeciate that punch

    don’t defend the wolf, now. They’re gonna bite the dust

    Bji, damn I can’t spell. Hold on. Baji. DAMNNNNNNN

    yeah, you might be.  HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY

    Tht’s gonna get you killed


    you’re hot and everything, but so help me god, I will cut your dick off

    a nigra with fat frames like that, and you don’t see an issue with him? Is this where the villain arc starts?

    catch on, stupid. you’re lying rn. You punched him because he’s the antagonist

    if you’re gonna expand, maybe don’t use the enemy, yk? They might.... como se dice... Make shit worse

    childhood friend? him and Kisaki was tight? 

    so he really is crazy, huh? He’s a founding member? Deadass?

    I said what I said, he’s bad news, the eyebrows should’ve been enough

    ohhh, a bet. if you knew, WHY BRING HIM IN? YOU DON”T NEED HIM

    that’s dark... he didn’t even say just kidding

    I said what I said, and the mouth twitch tied it in

    then who’s the sixth member

    he looks creepy, and his name is kazutora? red flag

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  • hinatastinygiant
    28.11.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Chapter Seven

    Pairing: Mitsuya x Fem!Reader

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    On your walk to Kisaki's club later that night, you're plagued with Mitsuya's annoying little comment that keeps worming its way to the front of your mind.

    "Just do as he says and stop going to the damn club."

    You really should listen to him, you can admit to yourself. He does know what he's talking about after all. But why does he get to act like a big shot? He got roped into going to Kisaki's hellhole just like you!

    When you get to the familiar, noisy club, you start up your normal shenanigans. You attempted to look around for Hanma, but eventually, you give up and take it upon yourself to schmooze drinks off customers willing and desperate enough to buy a pretty girl like you a drink or two. Not to mention the luck you have every time you go into the bathroom and find a group of girls happy enough to let you hit a blunt or sniff a small line.

    As you stumble out of the club, half drunk and half high with red, puffy eyes, you finally come to the realization that you're just repeating the same things over and over in an endless cycle.

    "Damn that asshole," you groan to yourself as you sit at the closest seat in the bar. You call over the bartender and order a glass of water... and one shot of tequila.

    You watch as the bartender nods and walks towards the other end of the bar. As your head moves, your eyes catch on blue hair. Curious, (and hoping that your eyes are playing tricks on you) you look over at the figure, a tall man with shaved, blue hair.

    Why me?!

    The man stands up from his seat on the other side of the bar with a shorter man in tow. The two of them walk directly up to you with little hesitation in their steps.

    "What do you guys want?" you groan.

    "Didn't you say you weren't going to come back here?"

    "Mitsuya..." you grumble. "Please go away. I didn't promise you anything."

    Despite your words asking them to leave, the blue-haired male sits down beside you. Then, to make matters even worse (in your professional opinion), when your water and tequila shot arrives, he downs the shot before you can even reach the small glass.

    "And what are you doing here, Hakkai?!" you scoff.

    However, Mitsuya interrupts before Hakkai has the chance to explain. "Y/N, I didn't help you out just to let you come running right back here."

    "You aren't my mom," you emphasize, drawing out the last word. "You don't need to look after me just 'cause Luna and Mana aren't around."

    Mitsuya sighs. "I'm not looking out for you just to fill the empty space; I don't like seeing any of my friends like this."

    Your face can't help but soften at his comforting words. Though when Hakkai nods in agreement, your one-track mind goes back to your initial question. With furrowing brows, you ask them once again why Hakkai's at this supposed-to-be secret club. But still, Mitsuya refused to give you the answer you desire.

    "If you want my help, you're going to have to sober up."

    "I don't want help," you scoff. "I'm fine, you idiots!"

    "Look, I know this isn't your fault, but you can't let yourself continue to fall into this repetitive trap!" Mitsuya explains a bit harsher this time, doing his best to convince you though he probably already knows your defense is weakening.

    "Why the hell are you guys here then?! The only way Kisaki'd tell you about this place is if you were in the same predicament as me and here you are!"

    Mitsuya sighs and exchanges a look with Hakkai. Neither of them wants to explain how they've become wrapped up in this mess.

    "Well, to be specific about tonight, I knew you'd be here drinking," he explains.

    "And you?" you ask curiously, lifting an eyebrow in anticipation. "Were you here to drink?"

    "No," he shakes his head. "That's what Hakkai's for. That little tequila shot's the only thing either of us has even looked at tonight."

    You look over that Hakkai who nods in agreement. You finally realize you really are in deep... even worse than Mitsuya. That lucky jerk has someone to down his drinks for him. That's basically the opposite of Hanma!

    You sigh and let your head flop down weakly against Mitsuya's chest. "I give in. I'm sorry, guys. I'll try my best from now on... This hangover is going to be the fucking worst."

    Mitsuya glides his arms around you and hugs you warmly. Almost immediately you can feel your entire body relax under his embrace. You could fall asleep right here. However, just as your eyes begin to flutter closed, he begins to pull away.

    "Alright," he tells you, "let's bring you home."

    The two men loop their arms around your waist and help you to stand. You're quite appreciative of the gesture; you're not quite sure if you could have even made it that far on your one. If they hadn't been there, it probably would have been one of those nights you pass out at the bar.

    Outside, you arrive at two motorcycles. Hakkai's the first to gently pull his arm away from you and swing his leg over his bike. Mitsuya does the same but takes a few extra moments to pass you his helmet with a grin. You strap it on after a bit of a struggle, and board the bike behind him.

    "Are you ready?" he asks as he looks back to smile at you.

    "Yeah," you reply a bit tensely as you figure out how to grip onto him. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his torso, and once you've secured yourself, he revs up the engine.

    "Are you okay?" he shouts over the sound.

    "I'm good!" you yell back as you squeeze yourself tighter against the warmth of his body.

    Mitsuya then waves goodbye to Hakkai and takes off. The ride from there to your house is almost too quick, almost as though just as you were getting comfortable it was time to let go of him.

    However, you aren't just going to tell him you're not going to let go. You're not that messed up in the head. Though the idea does float around in there for a moment.

    When you arrive at your door, you turn to face him still standing beside his bike. "You wanna come in?" you ask.

    "Sure," he replies with a bright smile on his face, replacing the tired look on his face.

    You shouldn't keep him for long, he really does look tired...

    Inside, you quickly change into something more comfortable. When you come back, Mitsuya's sitting down on the couch looking at something on his phone. You sit on the other side, placing your legs against your chest and hugging your knees.

    "Hey, uh, I really am sorry about breaking my promise 'bout going back there. I know I shouldn't have," you admit to him.

    "It's alright," he smiles once again as he puts down his phone. "It really wasn't a promise anyway. I shouldn't have said that before."

    "Well, either way, I promise I won't go back there alone anymore," you grin. "Not unless you change your mind."

    "Not likely," he chuckles. "But I'm happy to hear it."

    Mitsuya's tired smile makes it impossibly harder for you to ask your next question, though it's something that really would make you feel a billion times better.

    You take a deep breath and decide to just go for it; if he says no, he says no.

    "Do you think I can ask you for one more favor?" you hum a bit quieter than usual.

    "Anything," he replies.

    "Do you think you could stay here... for the night?" you ask. "If not, it's fine but I just wanted to ask 'cause I know I'm gonna feel like shit in the morning."

    "Of course, I'll stay," he grins. "I did say I'd look out for you after all."

    "Great, thank you so much!" you beam. "I'll take the couch, you-"

    "No," he interrupts. "You're going to need a better night's sleep than I do with that hangover you're about to get."

    You sigh and admit that he's absolutely not wrong. "I'll grab one of my pillows and a blanket. I'll be right back!"

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    Taglist: @darkmess0 @plaggi @daiserenade @lunastellanova @jinchuriki-hunter @sseorin @wakasa-wifey

    #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x you #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya tokrev #takashi mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya x y/n #takashi mitsuya x you #x fem!reader #x reader#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers series #tokyo revengers self insert #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #hinatastinygiant#wicked games#fanfiction series#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#wattpad
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  • kentimestwo
    26.11.2021 - 1 mont ago

    The King - Crime Boss!Hanma Shuji x Stripper!F!Reader

    cws: strangers to lovers, light angst, angst with a happy ending, idiots in love, mutual pining, sexual assault (skippable), violence/blood, drinking, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie

    wc: 12.3k+

    notes - holy shit look at this fucking monster of a fic. ive been working on this since october so its been a while. im hoping i can write a tendou fic in less time w about the same wc. wish me luck LMAO theres not a whole lot of smut in this one, but yknow. enjoy <3

    ao3 link || ko-fi

    Are you getting back

    Coming to the stage is a girl who’s new in town

    Hanma meets you on a Sunday. 

    He supposes it’s actually Monday—it’s nearing 1 am, after all—but time tends to meld together when your job entails what Hanma’s does. 

    He’s tired—today (yesterday?) was filled with too many assholes who don’t know their place and people who talk too much; others who cross lines, some who think they can overthrow the king.

    Hanma’s knuckles are sore and swollen, bloody and they’ll definitely be bruised. He’d have cleaned up before coming here, but it’s not really necessary considering the list of people that will question him here is short and really exclusive to new people. He employs these people—he gets to decide who stays here. 

    The music is only making his headache worse. It thumps through the entire club—something catchy and bass boosted that the girl on the stage rolls her hips to for the crowd. He hardly gives her a second glance; he’s pretty sure her name is Kandi or something and she’s been hitting on him for forever, but he’s frankly uninterested. He can feel her burning gaze on the side of his head from where he sits. 

    There’s a glass with some kind of dark alcohol in it on the table in front of him, complete with one large ice cube and a napkin beneath it. He’s only had a sip in all the time he’s been here. It’s not satisfying in the way it usually is, doesn’t burn in a way that makes him let out a relieved sigh and release the tension from his shoulders. 

    The club is pretty empty—there’s maybe six or seven people sitting in seats around the stage and two people at the bar. There aren’t many girls out tonight either; they probably went home to leave the shitty shifts to the new girls. Hanma’s sure there’s at least two of them. He almost feels bad for them. 

    The girl on the stage—Kandi—saunters off for a private dance and the usual music plays. It’s quieter now, with nobody commanding attention from the stage. Hanma lets out a sigh and leans back in his seat, taking another sip of his drink and closing his eyes to shield himself from at least a little bit of the ridiculous lighting. 

    “Shouldn’t you be home?” Hanma hears from behind him. That voice makes him want to scream. He doesn’t bother opening his eyes and looking, only relaxes further in his (formerly) quiet little corner. 

    “Why would I go home when I can be here?” He asks monotonously. There’s a scoff beside him this time. He crosses his fingers that maybe Kisaki won’t sit down with him; apparently the world has it out for him, because the cushion beside him dips just seconds later. “No point in going home if I’ll need to be back this way in the morning anyways.” 

    “You could just—” Kisaki trails off. Hanma raises his eyebrows. He knows Kisaki is staring at him—he must look like an absolute train wreck, with his bloody knuckles and his tousled hair and his dirty dress shirt. Not that he even gives a shit. “You could just get a place closer to here.” 

    Hanma resists the urge to punch Kisaki in the face. Figures he wouldn’t understand, the workaholic. 

    “Work and home are separate—always. Can’t have my place too close to where I beat people to a pulp. Doesn’t give me any room to relax.” 

    “You beat people to a pulp all over the country, Hanma.” The huff that passes Hanma’s lips could almost be considered a laugh. Kisaki is right—he does beat the shit out of people all over the place. But his main center of business is here, which means his condo needs to be as far away from here as possible without being inconvenient.

    “Yeah, I do,” Hanma settles with. He doesn’t have the energy to speak so many words; he’s done enough of that in the last several hours to last him a year. So many threats, not so many living victims. Yeah right, victims. Sure.

    “Well, one of the new girls is on in a few minutes. You should stay and watch,” Kisaki speaks. Hanma sends him hardly a glance. “To make sure you approve of her, of course.” 

    “Yes, of course.” Hanma responds. He knows Kisaki is just trying to make conversation. He doesn’t give a fuck about the dancers—except for that one who’s name escapes Hanma’s mind at the moment. Not that it matters. 

    “I’m off, then,” Kisaki says. The weight on the couch gets significantly lighter. Hanma lifts a hand to wave him off, keeping his eyes closed as the song changes to something a little slower. The bass gets boosted and Hanma knows that’s a sign that the new girl is coming out. “See you, boss.” 

    Hanma opens his eyes again just as the lights turn red. It’s much better than the green that was shining through the club not ten minutes ago, and he finds he can tolerate the color and the music that’s going along with it. 

    She goes by the name where your stacks at

    This pretty little thing I swear won't let you down

    The sound of heels clicking audibly on the stage fills Hanma’s ears. He doesn’t really pay attention to the stage as much as he just watches the men that are left keeping their eager eyes on the curtains. His eyes stay downcast as you saunter to the pole, your hips swaying to the beat of the song and one perfectly manicured hand wrapping around the shiny metal. 

    Hanma looks up and is promptly knocked on his ass by the sight of you. 

    You’re breathtaking—the getup you’re wearing is black and lacy, covering barely any of your glowing skin. The lights glint off your rhinestone accessories as you spin around the pole and the men around Hanma jeer and whistle as you flip yourself upside down and blow kisses to the small crowd. 

    You work to the music well. Your hips sway and your body rolls in a way that Hanma—in all the times he’s seen a girl dance on a pole—has never seen before. You’re captivating. 

    The way your body moves is so fluid—so sensual. Like you and the pole are one. Hanma thinks maybe he’s just too tired for this, maybe he’s just being an idiot with the way he can’t take his eyes off you once they land on your sparkling form. 

    You’re watching the whole crowd; making eye contact with potential customers, sending them sly little smiles and winks to hopefully make them want a private dance. You don’t make eye contact with him once—he figures you know that he’s the owner. 

    There’s something about your energy—as dumb as that sounds. It makes Hanma want you. He’s sure it’s just pent up energy from all the work he’s been doing, but Hanma finds himself feeling glad you were hired. 

    For the money you’ll bring in, that’s all. 

    Hanma doesn’t see you again for another few weeks. His…job has him busier than ever, and it’s absolutely breaking him down to the bone. Unfortunately, Kisaki is the only person he trusts to do his dirty work; and while Kisaki can take on a lot, he can’t do it all. The rest is up to Hanma. 

    Aside from that, he’s looking to open a new bar. He needs to cops off his back, and a property and business owner gives him the kind of front he needs right now—especially considering how many people have been fucking him over as of late. 

    He’s told you’re still working—by Kisaki, of course. He’s starting to think that maybe Kisaki has another thing planned for him. Maybe he’s just paranoid. 

    Apparently you’re bringing in more money than the club has ever seen. Guys (and girls) want dances with you, customers are spending more on drinks, and girls that dance with you are making almost double what they usually make just because you’re on the stage with them. 

    Hanma also found out your stage name is Angel. He’s surprised no other dancer had that name yet, honestly. He's not sure it fits you, but to each their own. 

    When he does see you again, he’s sitting in the same spot he was the first time, this time actually sipping on his drink while you woo the crowd and goad them into throwing more dollar bills at you. The song that plays is the same as last time, and he finds it appropriate considering the dollar sign shaped pasties over your nipples. Your outfit this time is skimpier, less and more sheer fabric. 

    He can’t say he hates the look. Especially when you make eye contact with him and wink before you walk off the stage.

    It’’s another late night (or early morning) when Hanma sees you again. 

    It has to be nearing midnight by now—the sun has long since set and the club is far more packed than it was the last time he was here for anything other than business. A few patrons stare as he walks by, taking in his disheveled appearance and the nasty scrape on his face. Some shithead tried to rub his face in the dirt—literally. 

    He took care of that promptly. 

    He’s sitting in his usual spot in no time; any regulars know it’s his and steer clear from it, while new customers are told by staff to avoid ‘the owner’s couch’. 

    The cushions provide some much needed relief to Hanma’s feet and back; he leans back where he’s all but collapsed and lets out a heavy sigh before turning his attention to the stage. The curtains draw, and your song plays. 

    Oh it's not complicated so this won't take a while

    You see music make her dance and money money money make her smile

    You saunter on stage—with Kandi off all people by your side. The other dancer’s eyes flit to Hanma’s relaxed form. She sends him a wink and a little flirty smile, but he hardly even sees her; he’s far too busy staring at your outfit for tonight. 

    Your skin sparkles just as it had so many nights ago when Hanma has first seen you—he figures you wear a shimmering lotion or something. Your makeup is perfect; winged liner, lashes and a heavy coat of lip gloss from what he can see, and it’s doing your lips a whole lot of favors. Hanma forces those thoughts from his mind as he takes in the rest of you. 

    Your outfit tonight is red—probably to match Kandi’s blue colored getup. You’re wearing a sheer bra, underneath which you wear some x shaped pasties. Hanma’s eyes slide lower. The jewelry in your belly button glints in the purple lighting of the club. On your waist sits a cute little garter belt, complete with a tiny little skirt—if you could even call it that. It definitely doesn’t cover anything. 

    Even further down, your panties are definitely a cute little thong. It’s red to match the rest of your outfit, and the front of it, if Hanma squints just right, looks like it has a dollar sign on it in rhinestones. 

    Your garters lead to a pair of sheer, blood red stockings that come up to just above your knee. Lastly, your heels are shorter than usual but cute—little platforms with hearts on them that look easy to walk in. So you chose practicality. Smart. 

    The ease with which you start dancing makes Hanma think you’ve done this before. You and Kandi are synchronized well—sliding around each other and even putting on a show with each other to get the crowd to go crazy. At first glance, Hanma would think that you two get along well. But one look at the expression you wear when nobody is looking—besides him, of course—would tell him that you’re doing this for the income, not because you like her. 

    Kandi looks like she’s far less experienced than you are; with her stumbled steps and her off beat dancing, you look like a pro. But Hanma knows that isn’t true—this club has employed Kandi since she was 18 and wanting some easy money. She’s 23 now. 

    The song ends and the two of you hop straight off stage. There’s a group of men that want a private room with both of you. Something about that makes Hanma irrationally angry. He pushes the feeling aside. 

    He has work to do anyways. No time to be worrying about some random girl. He gets up and walks towards where he knows Kisaki is waiting for him.

    You’re not some random girl. 

    You’ve become the star of most of his—sparse—dreams, sometimes clad in your usual work attire, other times in a sweet little dress while you perch yourself on his lap during meetings or try—and fail—to run his bank account dry with countless clothes, shoes and jewelry. 

    He sits up wondering what’s going on on those nights; the nights where he fantasizes about having you on his arm and laying in his cold bed together to make it not so cold anymore. 

    Hanma has no time for feelings and relationships. He has one night stands with whoever catches his eye and he leaves it at that. There’s no room around all of the horrible things he does. He can’t afford to find someone to love only to get them stuck in the world of fraud, murder and drugs. It’ll only get people killed. 

    But he can’t really stop himself from the fantasies sometimes. It’s been so long since he’s had a serious relationship—has he ever had one?—so nobody can really blame him for thinking about what it would be like to wake up to someone.

    To make breakfast for two, to have someone to come home to at the end of the day—though, with you he wouldn’t be coming home to you, he’d be going home with you. 

    There’s something incredibly appealing about it. He knows Kisaki has made it work as of now. But he can’t really risk it. Kisaki isn’t a big boss, of course he can make it work. He can withdraw pretty much whenever he feels like it.

    So what’s the best solution when you want to take one of the strippers you employ out on a date and keep having fantasies about being in a relationship with her even though you’re a well known crime boss and shouldn’t get romantically involved with someone? Well, become friends with said stripper, of course. 

    He first speaks to you on a Wednesday night. It’s probably 11:45 pm, close to the same time he saw you last, when he requests a dance with you. 

    The server he asks is taken aback by the request. Hanma has never once wanted a dance with any of the girls before—but to be fair, he’s also never been interested in one before either. 

    He sits in the private room now, holding a glass with some fruity drink he really doesn’t give a fuck about as he waits. Apparently he’d asked late and you’ll have to find a replacement on the stage. Since he’s the owner, though, he knows someone will manage to pull some strings to get you in here. 

    Hanma starts second guessing partway into his wait. It hasn’t even been that long—maybe five minutes or so—but he’s starting to think this was a bad idea. 

    What was he thinking? You’re just a dancer he employs; he shouldn’t get involved with anything at all, let along someone who technically works for him. You shouldn’t be anything more to him than an income—that’s what every other dancer has been to him. He can’t place why you’re different and that pisses him off immensely. 

    He’s just about to get up and leave the room when you walk in. You’re wearing a different pair of platforms now—they’re white and sparkly, taller and higher than the last pair. They look new, but what catches his eye isn’t your shoes. 

    Your outfit is what has his attention. It’s yellow—the color contrasts with your skin tone beautifully. It’s less see through than the last one he saw you in. The bra covers your breasts fully and the underwear are in a bikini style instead of a thong. It’s much more understated—Hanma knows you have to stand out on stage and that’s why you were wearing the cute little number he first saw you in, but he had no idea you could look like this, too, with your soft makeup and smooth, satin lingerie. 

    The song that starts playing in the room is different from your usual too. It feels more intimate than the song you dance to on stage. You really have this thing figured out, huh? Hanma can’t keep a leash on his predictions of what your past looks like. 

    Did you work at another club before? Which one? Why did you leave? Why are you here now?

    “You asked for me by name, yeah?” You ask. Your voice is incredibly fake—sultry and deeper than he’s sure you speak regularly. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

    “Yeah, I did. You can stop talking like that, you know. The guys that come here get a hard-on for anything with a nice pair of legs and the right amount of cleavage.” Hanma’s retort has you snorting as you walk up to the mini stage that sits on one side of the room. Your manicured fingers wrap around the pole gently and you spin, watching Hanma with sharp eyes on every turn.

    “Does that apply to you too?” You question. The music keeps playing; you pull yourself up on the pole and do the same little trick Hanma saw before, this time spinning as you hang upside down with your hands towards the bottom of the pole and your legs wrapped securely around it. He watches you spin to the beat, slowly, until you finally stand right side up again. 

    “No, because I’m not just a ‘guy that comes here’.” He responds. One perfectly arched eyebrow raises in question, encouraging him to continue speaking. You hum the melody of the song gently as you continue dancing. Time is money, after all. “I’m the boss.” 

    “Oh?” You say. You don’t seem as surprised as Hanma thought you’d be, but perhaps that’s because you don’t believe him. No use in trying to convince you, he thinks. He likes the banter, and he’s worried you won’t continue to talk to him this way if you’re convinced he owns this place. Too many girls here kiss his ass in hopes of being paid more; controlling the payroll isn’t Hanma’s job—he just owns the place. “The boss of what, exactly?” 

    “Nothing,” he mutters. Your responding laugh makes him watch you a little more intently—he watches the way your glossy lips pull into a smile, the way your teeth glow in the blacklight, the way your eyes crinkle in the corners as you giggle. 

    “The boss of nothing?” You repeat. Hanma hums gently as you sway your hips and spin around the pole with a frankly ridiculous amount of grace. He briefly wonders if you might have been a different type of dancer before this—maybe ballet—but the thought leaves his mind as you stalk your way over to where he sits on the couch. His legs spread subconsciously. You bend at the waist and rest your hands on his knees, getting close to his face until your breath fans over his lips. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous in his life. Must just be the way you pin him with your stare. “Sounds like a stressful job.” You joke. 

    Hanma laughs at that. He likes your sarcasm; the way you don’t act like he’s some type of god to get on his good side. It’s just an observation—that’s it. He just thinks you’re cool, or whatever. Nothing more.

    “You have no idea,” he says. His knees feel cold when you lift your hands and walk back to the stage. The song changes to something just as slow, just as deliberate. Hanma is starting to wonder if this is you sucking up. “It’s exhausting. You know, running nothing and all.” 

    “Oh I’m sure,” you say exaggeratedly. Your lips are quirked up in what almost feels like a permanent smile—Hanma tries to ignore the feeling of pride he gets when he realizes he put that smile on your pretty lips. It’s nothing. He just needs to get laid, that’s all. “You must have so much work, keeping nobody in line and making sure nobody is getting paid.”

    The conversation lulls. Hanma watches your body move to the beat of the music, your form swaying so sensually and fuck, you look so good. 

    He pays you twice as much as you’re owed. When you take the wad of cash, the look on your face is so worth the loss of weight in his pocket. This time when you smile, your teeth peak from between your lips and he can see two little rhinestones, one on each canine. 

    Hanma has a feeling you’re going to be trouble for him. 

    You two have more than a few more interactions after that day. He pays you twice as much as the dance costs every time it’s over—you get paid, he gets a good conversation out of the whole ordeal. It’s a good transaction.

    And the way you dance is a plus too. 

    Tonight, Hanma is a little more beat up than usual. His knuckles are far more bloody than you’ve ever seen, his cheek has a bruise and his shirt is only half tucked into his pants. He’s lucky there’s only a cut in his shirt and not on his side, but it was a close call. 

    For that reason, he doesn’t request a dance. He only listens to the announcement that Angel is coming to the stage and listens to the music start playing. 

    And of course, there you are, giving the crowd a show that’s just a little more extra than the ones you give Hanma. Your outfit is black this time—lacy and plain while your heels are red; and this time they aren’t platforms. They don’t look comfortable, with your wobbly knees and stiff legs. 

    But Hanma watches anyways. And when you meet his eyes, you don’t look surprised. You just sent him a little wink and a flirty smile, spinning happily on the pole while men near the stage throw bills to the floor around you. 

    Hanma ignores the skip in his heartbeat. You’re nothing but a dancer that he happens to enjoy interacting with. That’s it. 

    She's a super freak

    You wouldn't know it if you saw her outside these velvet walls

    Hanma sees you outside the club for the first time on a Saturday afternoon. It’s almost dinnertime—at least what Hanna assumes is dinnertime for you, considering the bags you’re (trying to) carry to your car. 

    “Need help?” He asks from behind you. His voice nearly startles you enough to make you drop your bags as you turn around to look at him. Hanma laughs, approaching you with his hands out like you’re a scared animal and not just a girl trying to get her groceries to her car in peace. 

    “I can handle it,” you say through gritted teeth. Hanma takes a couple bags from your hands anyways, walking beside you to your car to put the bags in the back seat. You roll your eyes at the gesture but don’t protest any further. 

    “Thought I’d help anyways.” He responds when you give him a dirty look. Hanma takes the few moments he can get to check you out. 

    You’re not dressed anything like you would be at the club—obviously—but he can tell where you get your taste in lingerie. The outfit is definitely modest; a tight fitting pair of leggings with a cropped sweater. But the black and red color palette paired with all of the zippers and o-rings really give away your style. 

    Plus, your boots. 

    They’re the same ones he’s seen on you countless times—platformed at probably three inches with a zipper up the side and rhinestones on them. They’re the flashiest part of your outfit, but Hanma is sure you did that on purpose. Don’t want to draw too much attention, and assumedly not on your face either. Wouldn’t want to risk being recognized by some asshole during the daytime. 

    “I like the boots,” his snarky comment makes you lift your leg to kick him—you miss of course, considering you’re leaning into the back seat of your car and can’t see him. Hanma laughs at your attempt. 

    “They’re the most comfortable ones I have,” you shoot back. When all your bags are carefully arranged in your car you stand up straight and close the door, walking to your own door and sitting inside your car. The window is rolled down and you stare at Hanna expectantly. “Can I help you, or did you just come up to me to antagonize me?” 

    That makes Hanma smile. He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs, stepping back once from your car and watching as you put your hand on the wheel. The silence carries on for a moment. Your car keys are in the ignition, but you find yourself hesitating to turn them—at least until Hanma looks to the ground instead of at you. 

    “Okay then, um—bye?” you say awkwardly. You start your car and turn your body and look out the back windshield to back out of the spot. Hanma watches you leave—he only walks away from the parking spot when you’re gone, peeling out of the parking lot and driving down the street headed south. 

    Hanma makes his way back to the club. His hand moves to his waistband to feel for the handle of the gun tucked away. You may not be working now, but he’s on the clock. No time to waste anymore—especially after the time he just threw out the window. 

    No she don't go where preachers preach

    She only go to the church where dollars fall

    He sees you again a month later. 

    He’s been busy—threatening people and doing illegal shit; you know, the works. 

    He hasn’t had the time to be in the club for anything more than business; which means that he’s only been there during the day, when you’re not working. He hears you’re doing well, though. You know, from his sources. Not that he cares. 

    Tonight though—tonight he’s tired, and finished with work, and he just wants to wind down. He lets the closest bartender know to tell you he wants a dance, asks for a bottle of scotch, and heads to his room. The club smells like cheap perfume tonight and there’s a haze of cigarette smoke all throughout it.

    He pays no mind to Kandi trying to get his attention. 

    When he sits down at his couch—yes, it’s his couch, thank you very much—he takes the minute he’ll be waiting to think about you and what’s happened over the last couple months. 

    What does he even feel for you? You’re interesting, sure, but Hanma doesn’t know you—not really. You’re just some girl that happens to work at his club. He enjoys talking to you, mostly because you don’t kiss his ass or try to get in his pants, but—he thinks—that’s basically it.

    “Haven’t seen you in a while, bossman,” you say to him as you walk into the room. Hanma finds himself smiling at the entrance. 

    “Been doing boss shit,” He responds readily. You walk up to the pole with no hesitation as the music starts to play, a pretty little smile stretched across your sparkling, glossy lips. Since you entered, the room smells much less like Kandi and much more like tropical fruit and vanilla lip gloss. Hanma doesn’t hate the smell—it’s certainly better than cheap perfume and nicotine. 

    Nicotine only reminds Hanma of his past now.

    “Yeah? What kind of boss shit?” You ask sarcastically. Hanma’s unsure if you still don’t know that he’s the boss or not. He hums as you spin yourself around, his eyes roaming your body to check out the getup for tonight.

    “Y’know, bills to pay and people to threaten.” He jokes. The outfit tonight is emerald green—velvet and expensive looking. The underwear cover nothing but your crotch and ass, the fabric held up by two straps on each side connecting the front to the back. The top is a halter neck (Hanma thinks that’s what it’s called, anyways) and the fabric from the top of your breasts to your neck is nearly see through fabric. 

    Your boots are new—at least to him. Grey and sparkly to a ridiculous extent, tall as hell and definitely eye catching. They’re cute. He wonders if you’ve worn them in the month he was gone.

    “People to threaten—huh.” You do some flashy little trick that Hanma doesn’t understand and land to walk around the pole, your hips swaying to the beat of the song. Hanma’s unsure why you even continue to preform if you know he’s just here to talk—then again, maybe you don’t know that. 

    “That’s my job,” He admits. He has no idea why he’s telling you this—who knows if you’re an undercover cop or something. Not that it matters because Hanma has a hold on the cops too, but still. You laugh at his response. 

    “Oh yeah, I know all about your job,” you tell him. His eyebrows raise as you stop spinning on the pole and make eye contact with him. Your lips twitch up into a smug little smirk. “Kandi told me all about it.”

    “Who?” Hanma asks. You stop dancing for a second before doubling over and cackling. You’re loud and obnoxious, but Hanma can’t even force himself to be irritated with you. In fact, if he was honest with himself he would admit that the way you bend over and hold your stomach is adorable. 

    Hanma is not honest with himself. 

    “The girl I dance with from time to time,” you tell him when you manage to stop laughing. Hanma sends you a confused look. You just smile and continue dancing like you didn’t just lose your fucking mind in front of him. “You know, the girl that’s always trying to get your attention.” 

    Hanma throws his head back and groans, squeezing his eyes shut as you laugh. 

    “Not her,” he says desperately. You hum as the first song tapers off and changes to a new one. Hanma can hear your shoes clunk against the stage as—he assumes—you walk around the pole again. “I would fire her, but she makes us too much money.” 

    “She really likes you, y’know.” You tell him. He groans again and nods his head. 

    “I know, that’s the problem.” He says. You laugh. It’s like music to his ears—even if you’re laughing at his expense. 

    “You might want to help her keep her mouth shut. She was the one who told me about your…main job.” You say. Hanma looks up at that. He gives you an incredulous look before sighing and resting his elbows on his spread knees, dropping his head and staring down at the floor. The lights make the floor purple before changing to blue. 

    Hanma doesn’t even know how Kandi knows—yeah, most people are pretty aware, but he doesn’t talk about it and Kandi has never been personally involved, so she has no proof, really. Unless Hanma was involved with her family or something. Who knows. 

    “Fucking christ,” he curses. You laugh and step down from the stage to sit down on the couch next to Hanma. He doesn’t look up at you as you sit on the furthest side of the couch—not scared, just professional. 

    “I can keep her quiet if you want,” You suggest. That makes Hanma look at you, his face surprised. You wave him off. “I’m not gonna kill her or anything. I’ll just set her up with someone. She’s obsessed with you, that’s the problem here.” 

    “You’re telling me,” he groans, cradling his head in his hands. You pat his back twice before you retract your hand and sit silently. 

    Hanma could fire Kandi. She’s someone that’s been nothing but an issue for him—asking for his number from anyone that might know it, flirting shamelessly with him whenever he’s around, even going as far as trying to get close to people like Kisaki to get close to Hanma. 

    He’s lucky Kisaki is love drunk and couldn’t care less about any other girl, much less another dancer.

    “I can’t fire her until she can be replaced,” He tells you, his head now dipped again as he stares at the floor. As much as he knows Kandi has made this entire situation personal, he needs to prioritize the club on a professional level. He can’t afford to let his companies—sleazy or not—go down in flames if he wants to stay credible and make the money he wants to make. “Getting rid of her will have to wait, so do whatever you want.”

    “Oooh, real serious, bossman,” you tease, laughing at the dumb snort Hanma responds with. He’s grateful for the uplift in mood—you seem to see how uncomfortable he is talking about it all. It’s something Kisaki can worry about another time, when Hanma asks him to take care of it. “Well, your dance is over. You can pay me and I can leave, or you could get another one.”

    Hanma thinks about that proposition. He’s exhausted still—should probably go home and sleep, but he’d rather stay here and deny that he finds you so enthralling as he watches you move to some song he’s never heard before. He shrugs and throws you a toothy grin.

    “Fuck it—give me another dance. I’ll even pay you double the usual.”

    You quickly become the replacement Hanma was talking about. 

    You’ve nearly tripled the amount of patrons within the months you’ve been working at the club. Guys are interested in you—they like that you don’t beg for attention; essentially, they like that you’re not like Kandi. 

    Which brings Hanma to his point. 

    “I need you to fire Kandi.” Kisaki is a little surprised at what Hanma’s said, his brows rising as he pauses in his paperwork briefly. 

    “Didn’t you hear?” Kisaki asks. Hanma hums, moving to sit down at the chair across from Kisaki. His office in the club is a mess—paperwork everywhere, pens strewn across the desk and the trashcan full to overflowing. Hanma can’t really blame Kisaki; he puts all the financial shit together and makes sure it’s in order, after all. There’s a lot to go through. 

    “Hear what?” Hanma responds. Kisaki keeps putting papers on top of one another, adjusting his glasses as he straightens the stack and puts it on the corner of his desk. He looks like he’s trying to think about what to say.

    “Kandi quit last week,” He says finally. Hanma doesn’t even try to look surprised or upset. He just lets out a long, loud sigh and slumps in his seat. Kisaki starts messing with the pens on his desk. “She ran off with some guy, I guess. Nice to have her off your back, for you and for me.”

    “Yeah,” is all Hanma says back. He isn’t even sure what to think of the situation.

    To be fair, you did tell him that you’d ‘keep her quiet’. He just didn’t expect it to be so fast. He thought it would take some time to get her to trust you, and on top of that you told Hanma you would set her up with someone, which he thought would take a while, considering Hanma thought it would take six months at least to get to know someone enough to run away with them. 

    Not that Kandi really ran away. She really just moved away, strictly speaking. Not that it matters. She’s gone, that’s it.

    It’s just odd to him that she just left. Perhaps she just wanted attention from some rich guy and that’s what you provided for him. 

    Oh well. He’s happy to have one less problem to deal with. 

    “What about Angel?” Kisaki asks. Hanma’s taken aback—he has no idea why he’s asking about you, Hanma doesn’t think he’s given anything away about how much time he spends with you. 

    And it’s a lot. Hanma has spent at least two nights a week with you for the last few months—just talking while you essentially empty his pockets. It’s really no big deal to him; he makes the money back easily anyways, plus he doesn’t ever carry all his money in his wallet—you just empty what’s there on any given night. 

    “What about Angel?” Hanma parrots. Kisaki raises one ridiculously arched eyebrow—seriously, are they naturally like that or what?—and continues straightening up his desk. Hanma thinks he sees one paper go in the trash with some kind of translucent stain on it. Disgusting. 

    “You’ve taken a liking to her.” He states bluntly. Hanma catches a glimpse of some fabric being shoved into Kisaki’s pocket from his desk drawer. He snickers under his breath and gets an unimpressed look in response. “You’re in the private room with her at least twice a week. What’s up with that?” 

    “Like hell I’ve ‘taken a liking to her’, dipshit,” Hanma argues. Kisaki sighs and sits down in his chair, turning towards Hanma and folding his hands over the desk. He waits for Hanma to speak. “’S just nice she’s not kissing my ass, is all.” 

    “Yeah, okay,” Kisaki responds. 

    The conversation ends there. 

    Hanma sees you more often after that. 

    With Kandi long gone and no longer hovering whenever he’s around the club, he’s much more comfortable showing up late at night more than just twice a week. 

    Some nights he comes in bloody—knuckles bruised and face a little worse for wear—but you never comment on it. You just hop off the stage whenever you see him, letting the other men know you have a meeting with the boss before following him into the private room in the back; the one that might as well have your name on it by now. 

    You usually spend the whole time talking, now—hardly dancing and sometimes even kicking your shoes off to get rid of the soreness in your soles from walking in them all night. 

    (Unless they’re your trusty rhinestone platforms, of course.) 

    You even taught Hanma how to use the pole. Got him up on the tiny stage that sits in the corner of the room and taught him how to flip himself upside down and how to spin. He spent ten minutes praising you for your skill after that. 

    You could safely say that you and Hanma have gotten fairly close by now. He knows little things about you—your favorite color, your birthday, where you lived before this—and you know little things about him, too. 

    Less than half of the things you know about him are objectively important—things like what exactly his business entails, the reason behind why he’s at the club more often than not and his relationship to Kisaki are stored away in a precious spot of your brain so that they can be pulled out if the occasion ever arises. 

    Not that you’ll ever have to remember what he and his gang do. You don’t have any plans to tell people what Hanma does—no matter the circumstances. No reason to. 

    The surface things you’ve learned about him are abundant. His favorite colors, his birthday and more things like his favorite food and the grocery store he prefers going to. 

    Some (most) of your conversations are just surface level as is. You talk about mundane things—where you got your nails done, how much your fit of the day costs, what Hanma did during the day. 

    You suppose those are only really mundane to you two. But regardless, you enjoy talking to him. He’s funny, and he’s kind of a shithead, and he can dish it out and take it. It’s nice. 

    You think maybe you’ve begun to develop some type of feelings for Hanma. Something unfamiliar—something that settles in your gut like rocks when he laughs with you. 

    It’s something you try to ignore—try to push down until you’re not thinking about it and hope that he doesn’t notice how you can’t look him in the eye anymore. You still fuck around with him, still joke with him and laugh and talk like a normal human being, but it’s hard now to exist around him without feeling like your stomach is imploding in on itself. 

    Some nights come in the form of an exhausted Hanma; like tonight. 

    Hanma walks in without even looking at you tonight. He doesn’t spare you a glance, but he does walk towards the back room, so you follow him anyways. 

    When he gets into the room, he sits down on the couch with a heavy sigh and still doesn’t look up. You walk straight to the pole—it doesn’t seem like he wants to talk tonight. 

    “You okay?” You ask him, letting the music move through your limbs as you grip the pole in a loose fist. Hanma kind of huffs—something between a laugh and a sigh, and looks up to watch you dance. 

    His eyes don’t stray from your body—they don’t meet your own heavy gaze and they don’t move down to the floor either. He just watches you dance. Watches you move your hips and saunter around the best you can. 

    “Yeah,” he mumbles, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. You’re not entirely close to him, and the lighting makes it hard to see, but you can still make out the bags under his eyes that are almost purpling at this point. You’re almost worried. The feeling gets pushed away. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

    “You sure?” You try this time, stepping off the stage and walking towards him. One hand pushes him back by the middle of his chest so that you can put one knee on either side of his lap, straddling him and draping your arms over his shoulders. 

    Hanma stares this time. Not at your body, not at your boots, not at the floor—straight into your eyes. His hands hover over you until you’re grabbing his wrists and forcing his hands to your hips. He squeezes gently when they make contact with your partially bare skin. It’s hot—scorching, the way he touches you. 

    Before long, a sly little smirk is pulling at Hanma’s lips, his teeth glinting orange in the light as he digs his finger into your hips. 

    “Feeling better now, Angel,” He taunts. You roll your eyes—you know he’s only joking, this is your job and you’d like to think he only gets special treatment because he’s the boss (even though you know that’s not really the case).

    “Shut up, bossman.”

    It’s late. 

    Well—it’s early. It’s a bit past 3 am, the sun shows no signs of rising, and it’s fucking cold. You’re done with your shift, changed and showered, and you’re leaving through the back door when you see them approach. 

    There’s three men, you think. You don’t really want to take the chance that there’s more, so you start walking the opposite way of your car. The pepper spray you have is in your car—all you really have is your platforms, but from experience, you know that you might have to. Luckily for you, you know how to fight back. 

    The exhaustion in your body protests the speed of your steps tonight. You hope you can fight back. 

    “Hey, Angel,” One of them yells. You can hear his footsteps behind you—they’re heavy and loud, and you speed up your walking to try and get out of the alleyway faster. 

    You don’t say anything in response to the guys’ jeers and yelling—if you do, you’re afraid you’ll really never get rid of them. You curse yourself for parking so far from the club when you got here—and for leaving through the back door instead of the front tonight. 

    “Yo! I’m talking to you, bitch!” He yells from behind you. He’s getting closer—and your breathing is getting heavier as you nearly run now. 


    Of course running isn’t enough—of course it isn’t. The man behind you grips your arm in a tight fist, yanking you back until he has you pressed to the brick wall, the rough stone digging into your shoulders uncomfortably and the guy’s breath huffing over your grimacing face. 

    “Let go of me!” You scream, struggling against his hold as he grunts with the effort to keep you still. He grins so mean at you—nothing like Hanma, who you suddenly wish was with you right now. 

    “Not a chance, Angel,” he laughs, mistaking the disgusted shiver that runs up your spine as something pleasured. You can’t help but still struggle—but with the exhaustion running through your bones, you can’t really fight back the way you need to get away. “You want this, don’t ya? You’re paid for it, afterall—whore.” 

    The fight in you is depleted by now—you stop moving, stop struggling and just close your eyes to try and forget what’s about to happen to you. His lips attach to your neck—you feel disgusting. 

    But nothing further happens—at least nothing to you. What does happen, though, is Hanma showing up to your rescue. 


    He’s brutal in the way he fights them—fists flying faster than you can imagine, sickening cracks deafening your ears, blood splattering on the ground and all over Hanma’s face. 

    One guy gets a few good hits on Hanma’s face—probably giving him a black eye and definitely making his nose bleed—but you crouch down and duck your head to try and ignore the fight that’s happening in front of you. It’s not like you can’t handle watching some violence; more so that you need to get your head together and process what just happened to you. 

    Before you lift your head, you can hear Hanma growl—something mean, something low and threatening,

    “Touch her again and I’ll put you down like a rabid fucking dog.”

    Hanma saw red. 

    He didn’t even think twice when he saw the way you were whimpering and pleading with some sleazy asshole cornering you and his friends encouraging him to do whatever he was planning on doing to you. 

    There was no hesitation—he ran in without second guessing and swung his fists at whoever’s face got in his way. 

    When he’s back to his right mind, there are four men on the ground and you’re looking straight into his eyes, your whole body shaking as you breathe heavily. 

    He’s immediately closing in on you, kneeling in front of you and holding your face in his hands as he checks your face and checks for cuts or scratches. There’s nothing but the shaking of your hands, but the way your breath is quick and comes out in choppy puffs. 

    “You gotta talk to me, Angel,” He breathes, his brows furrowing when you flinch at his voice.

    “Don’t—” you trail off. Your hands cover his as they rest on your cheeks—cold and sweaty palms pressing against each of his tattoos. “That name makes me feel dirty.” 

    You whisper your name to him—the first time he’s heard anything but your stage name. It’s beautiful, fitting you more than he ever thought it would. He whispers it back to you.

    “Do you want to go home?” He asks. He doesn’t really want to know whether or not you’re okay right now. He just wants to take you far away from here—because when (if) these guys wake up, Hanma isn’t sure he won’t hurt them again. And this time he won’t stop. 

    “Take me to your place.” 

    Any other day, Hanma might question you. He might ask if you’re sure—if you really want to be with him right now after he’s just beat those guys to a bloody pulp in front of you. But he supposes that he’s probably the one person you want to be around right now. 

    He doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up in his arms, one arm under your knees and the other holding you up on your upper back. 

    “Alright. Let’s go to my place then.” 

    Hanma speeds home. He knows he shouldn’t, but he does anyways—and he gets you two to his place ten minutes earlier than he usually would. He pulls into the parking garage and turns off the car before he’s turning bodily towards you. 

    “Are you okay?”

    It’s a dumb question—he knows that. He knows he shouldn’t be bothering to ask. But he can’t help it. He can’t help the feeling of needing to know that you’re—at least physically—alright. The way your hands still haven’t stopped shaking makes him incredibly nervous. Not that he’d say that. 

    You take a deep breath. The silence in the car feels a little suffocating, but Hanma gives you the time you need to respond. He isn’t great with emotions or anything, but he’s sure that he shouldn’t rush you. Especially now. 

    “Yeah,” you start. You’re not looking at him, but Hanma can hear the sincerity in your voice. You’re picking at your fingers—pulling at your natural nails that have just started growing out since you stopped getting acrylics. “Yeah, I’m—I will be okay.”

    “Let’s go inside, yeah?” Hanma asks. You nod, but don’t move to get out of the car. Hanma gets out first and walks around the car to open your door. When he does open it, you stay where you are—so he picks you up again, cradling you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. 

    The trip upstairs is silent. Hanma almost wonders if you’ve fallen asleep, but the way your breaths are shaky and you sniffle every once in a while, he knows you just don’t feel like talking. He doesn’t push you to. 

    He’s able to get you inside without too much of a struggle, and he sets you down on his couch before he’s walking to the kitchen—still close to you and within eyesight. 

    “Do you want a drink?”

    You hum. It’s hardly loud enough hear—something soft and scratchy, low and a little shaky. Hanma grabs a bottle of vodka from the freezer, a half gallon of orange juice from the fridge and two glasses, carrying it all carefully between his fingers to the couch and setting them on the coffee table. 

    He pours probably more vodka than he should. The orange juice hardly gets used, but he leaves both drinks on the table anyways. You down half the glass in one go.

    “Thank you,” you speak up. Hanma hums in question, taking a sip from his own glass and turning towards you. You pull your feet up onto the couch and wrap your arms around your knees. “For saving me.”

    Hanma hates that word—‘save’. 

    He’s not a good man, he never has been and never will be. It’s not that he’s ashamed of it; he’s proud of his skills and how far he’s come—turning so quickly into a bigger boss than he ever thought he’d be and making more money than he knows what to do with. 

    But Hanma doesn’t really save people. He’s got morals, sure—he refuses to hurt women or children—but he's not a savior by any stretch of the word. 

    He tells you as much, but all you respond with is a soft, whispered, 

    “Well, you’re my savior.”

    Hanma smiles. He’d kiss you right now—if he wasn’t heading towards drunk. He really should’ve eaten before drinking alcohol. 

    “Your savior. Yeah, that’s fine.”

    You just smile back.

    When the night is turning into morning and the sun starts rising, the two of you are thoroughly tipsy. You look to Hanma and send him a dopey smile. He caresses his hand over the legs you have draped over his lap—he’s much more touchy when he’s had a bit to drink.

    “Do you want me to sleep out here?” He asks you. You tilt your head to the side with a confused look. He keeps his eyes down and doesn’t look back to you. 

    “Why would you do that?” You respond. Hanma finally looks to you now, his pupils a little blown. He looks so pretty—dried blood splattered on his shirt and his hair all mussed. He’s slurring a little when he speaks again.

    “I figured you wouldn’t want me near you right now.” He says with a shrug. You scoff. Even when he denies it, he’s being noble.

    “We’ve already been over this, Hanma. You’re my savior. ‘Sides, I think you deserve to sleep in your own bed, whether I’m there or not.” You tell him. He’s a little surprised at your use of his name—up until now you’ve only ever said it once before, when he told you it. 

    “Okay,” he says. 

    It takes you a little longer than you thought to get ready for bed. Hanma isn’t nearly as drunk as you—he’s had two drinks to your four, so he takes the drinks and glasses back to the kitchen and lets you know where his bedroom is, telling you that the bathroom is connected and that you can clean up and wear his shirt to bed if you want. 

    You thank him a little groggily, walking to his bathroom and washing your face in the sink before rummaging through his drawers to find an oversized tee shirt to wear. It’s grey, a different color to the usual black or white he usually wears, but it smells good. Like expensive cologne. You pull the collar up to your nose and inhale once you’ve pulled it over your head. 

    Hanma takes a few minutes in the bathroom when he comes to you. You assume he’s washing his knuckles of blood and changing clothes, but it doesn’t really matter, because you find yourself half asleep by the time he gets back into the bedroom—wearing nothing but sweatpants that sit low on his hips. 

    A glass of water and painkillers are set on the nightstand by you and Hanma slips into bed behind where you lie on your side. You turn around to face him and smile when he meets your eyes. 

    “Goodnight.” He tells you, keeping a comfortable amount of distance between you two. You roll your eyes. Before you can think twice, you’re pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth and turning around, face hot and a goofy grin splitting your lips. 

    “G’night, bossman.” 

    The morning comes with a raging headache and blinding midday light. 

    It’s probably noon—Hanma wakes up with you in his arms, snoring so gently and quietly and he has an overwhelming urge to kiss you. He holds back and slips out of bed to take a painkiller and go to the bathroom. 

    Hanma isn’t a great cook, but he does know how to make the basic eggs and toast, and besides that you probably won’t want anything more than that anyways—so he gets to cooking. 

    It takes maybe ten minutes to cook. He tries to be as quiet as possible because he’s unsure about how heavily you might sleep, but when he gets back to his bedroom he finds that either he wasn’t as quiet as he thought or you’re just an incredibly light sleeper, because you’re sitting up in bed, your fist rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

    “Thought you disappeared on me there, bossman,” you tell him groggily, wincing when your voice is a little too loud for your liking. Hanma sees that you took the painkillers he left on your (his, it’s his, not yours. You don’t live here) nightstand and drank half the glass of water he’d left.   

    “Made breakfast,” is what he decides on. Neither of you talk about what happened last night. Now’s not the time. Perhaps when you’ve had a bit to eat and woken up fully, but even then Hanma can’t be sure you’ll talk about it. He doesn’t know if you’ll want to deal with this on your own or not. 

    You thank him quietly when he hands you the plate. He doesn’t watch you eat—he doesn’t. He puts on a shirt and brushes his teeth and hair, and by the time he’s back you’re done with the food. He can only imagine you must’ve been hungry. Stress makes him hungry too. 

    “So, are we gonna talk about this or are we gonna tiptoe around each other for the rest of eternity?” You finally ask. Hanma snorts at your bluntness—it’s very like you to just bring it up without being subtle. 

    “I’m honored that you’d like to spend eternity with me,” he responds, walking to the other side of the bed to sit down. You roll your eyes and put down your plate, turning towards him with a glare. He sighs. “Fine—where do you want to start?” 

    “Why don’t we start with the hard part—what am I to you?” You question. Hanma almost laughs. 

    Of course you’d think this is the hard part. 

    “Well,’ he starts. He’s not even really sure how this goes—how it’s supposed to go. He knows that he’s supposed to express his emotions, but what even are they? He’s sure he wants to be with you, but is it even more than just that? “I would enjoy being your boyfriend—I know that much.” 

    The smile that spreads across your face is so soft than Hanma almost can’t handle it. He’s sure you expected this—with the way he only ever talks to you at the club, how he’s never asked for a dance from another girl, how he finds it so easy to talk to you. 

    “Okay,” you respond. You take a deep breath and look him in the eyes. As much as he’d probably deny it were you to tell him, he really wears his heart on his sleeve. At least he does for you. “We don’t have to define it further than that right now if that’s what you want.”

    Hanma lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He knows he’ll be eternally grateful for the patience and understanding you show him. 

    “Thanks,” he breathes. You hum. “Shouldn’t we be talking about last night?”

    “I’d rather not—not yet,” you say with finality. Hanma understands; you must still feel awful about what happens. He still wishes he’d killed those guys. 

    “That’s up to you.” He tells you. You give him a grateful smile and the room goes silent. Hanma finds himself staring maybe a little too hard at you. 

    You’re just so beautiful; he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone as pretty as you. With your pretty bitten lips, and the way your cheeks swell when you smile, and the way your eyes light up with mirth whenever you make a joke. He can’t get enough of you. 

    “Can I kiss you?” 

    He doesn’t mean to ask out loud. He does want to kiss you, sure—but he was supposed to just be admiring you. And respecting your space right now, he thinks. 

    But what he thought was the right thing to do gets thrown straight out the window when he’s suddenly met with a lapful of you and your lips pressing desperately against his. 

    His hands immediately move to your hips, fingers digging in as he pulls you closer. Your knees dig into the mattress next to his thighs, and he moves ‘sin’ to your thigh and ‘punishment’ to the side of your neck, his thumb stroking over your pulse point. 

    “Yeah,” you tell him belatedly, your chest heaving with short, quick breaths. Your hands slide up his chest and grip his shoulders, pulling him chest to chest to get rid of as much space between you as possible. “Yeah, you can kiss me.” 

    “I figured,” he laughs between kisses, your lips quirking up as he moves his down from your cheek, to your neck, to your shoulder and back before he’s pressing his lips to yours again, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip oh so gently and pressing his fingers into your thighs when you open your mouth to let him in. 

    The longer you kiss—lips smacking against each others and tongues sliding together—the more desperate and eager you both get, and eventually you’re grinding your hips against him and he’s lying you down again on the pillows, hovering over you with one hand pressed into the sheets and the other cupping your cheek. 

    “Hanma,” you whine against his lips, hips bucking against the thigh he has wedged between your own. You can’t help the breathy moans that slip between your lips; the way he rocks against you and swallows your sounds with his own mouth. Your fingers hook into the waistband of his sweatpants as he weaves his fingers into your hair. “Off—take it off, please—”

    Hanma doesn’t respond. He only pulls back from you to peel his sweatpants down his legs before leaning forward and once again capturing your lips. 

    This is like a dream—Hanma never thought he’d be kissing you in his own home, sitting between your spread thighs and swallowing your sounds. He never once figured he’d be stripping you of his own shirt and your pants, that he’d be gliding his fingers over your damp panties and feeling blood rush to his cock with the way you moan at the feeling. 

    If this were any other time, maybe he wouldn’t take his time. Maybe he’d bend you over the bed or the bathroom counter and fuck you until you’re overstimulated and whining, your body limp and your nerves on fire. 

    But this isn’t any other time—and you’re not any other girl. Hanma might be hard pressed to admit it explicitly, but he cares about you. He doesn’t want this to be a one time thing. 

    Your panties come off next, thrown aside so that Hanma can slide his body down until he’s laying down between your legs, his face so close to your dripping slit that you can feel his breath puffing against it. It sends a pleasant shiver down your spine—so different from what you felt last night in that alleyway. 

    He presses his lips so gently against your inner thighs, taking his time worshipping you as he gets closer and closer to your pussy. You’re needy—squirming in his hold as he holds your legs in his hands and digs his fingers into your flesh. 

    When his tongue finally makes contact with your cunt—swiping up from your hole to your clit and back again—you moan loud and high, throwing your head back against the pillows and gripping his hair between your fingers. You pullet it as he eats his fill—as he moans against you and licks and sucks and nibbles. 

    “Shuji—” you whine, pulling at his hair as he lifts ‘sin’ from your thigh to press a long, thin finger into your cunt. Your back arches as you keen, grinding your hips desperately until he’s pumping his finger in and out of you, his fingertip pressing against your sweet spot with ever curl of the digit. “More, please—”

    It’s all so much. The feeling of being touched after so long of wanting this—so long waiting for Hanma to make the first move, you feel like everything is too much and not enough, too much pressure and too light all at once. You think you’re going to lose your mind.

    Two more fingers join the first one, curling just right as they were before as he presses his tongue in alongside them. You’re so close—teetering on the edge of orgasm as your skin tingles and your clit throbs. 

    “Shuji, I’m gonna—you gotta stop or I’m gonna c-cum—” you warn him, tugging at his hair until he’s pulling back to press kisses to your legs again, his lips wet and swollen against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You finally lift your head to look into his pupil blown eyes, watching him with the bottom half of his face hidden by the flesh of your thigh. 

    “I’m that good?” He asks cheekily, laughing when you roll your eyes and throw your head back against the pillows exasperatedly. He slides back up your body and grips your face in his dry hand, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste but passionate kiss. 

    “A-as if,” you respond, humming into the kiss and pulling him forward to make it far less short. Boxers get thrown off in the middle somewhere, forgotten as Hanma’s tongue invades your mouth again. 

    You don’t even get the chance to look at Hanma before he’s sliding home, pressing his hips to yours until the leaking tip of his cock is nudging your cervix just so. 

    You think that maybe he was made for you—made to slot perfectly within the empty spaces between your limbs and fill the voids. Made to be with you, made for you as you were made for him. You might’ve been previously skeptical about fate, but this might be exactly what you need to believe. 

    This man, who happened to own the place you worked at, who happened to ask for you by name and only got dances from you, who happened to let you in despite the nature of his work, has truly swept you off your feet, and you’re not sure if you’re all that upset about it. 

    Having sex with Hanma is like being put back together piece by piece. It’s not soft—it’s not exceptionally loving and caring; at least outwardly it isn’t. But you can feel his emotions within his hips, within the kisses he presses hard against your lips, within the little murmurs of ‘mine’ that you hear in between love bites. 

    You feel like everything he does, every place he touches is on fire, is so sensitive and feels like your senses are heightened. He’s slow, methodical, as he fucks you and wraps his arms around you only to hold you as close as he possibly can. 

    He’s rambling. He’s telling you how good you feel, how warm and tight you are and how you were made for him, made to take his cock, made to be held by him and taken apart and put right back together with sweet kisses and a thumb to your clit. 

    And your fall from grace comes much faster than you’re expecting. It’s slow and smooth, the transition from too-much pleasure to your silent, overwhelming orgasm—clenching around him as your back arches and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag downwards. 

    He’s such a masochist. It shows in the way he enjoys fighting. It shows in the way he spent so long denying his feelings for you. 

    And it shows in the way he cums after your nails begin digging into his flesh and splitting skin. 

    His own climax is less silent than your own. He digs his teeth into your neck as he groans, emptying himself inside you with a few choppy thrusts of his hips and his fingers digging into your sides. 

    When his fingers loosen, you sift your fingers through his sweat damp hair and pull, meeting his eyes when he finally lets you manhandle him into leaving the warm, safe space between your neck and shoulder. 

    “Shuji,” you whisper; just to say it. Just to roll the name around your mouth, to taste the feeling of being his—of being Hanma Shuji’s girlfriend. 

    He says your name back—something softer than you’ve ever seen slip past his slick lips as he stares wide eyed back at you; at your marked neck, at your heaving chest, at your leaking hole when he pulls out with a grimace. 

    The next few minutes are quiet, only filled with soft breaths and the quiet pat, pat, pat of Hanma walking across the cold floor with you in his arms. You let him carry you—let him take you in his arms and hold the pieces of you together and melt your body into liquid gold to fill the cracks of his heart. 

    Hanma runs a bath. It’s warm and it smells like some oils that you can’t place and it makes you relax against his chest the second you’re both in the bath—your back to his front, his legs bracketing yours. 

    Still nothing is said. You’re afraid if you speak you’ll break this calm, serene energy between you two, and he wants to give you time to think, so the bathroom remains silent aside from the drip of the faucet and your steady breathing while you bask in each other’s presence. 

    “I think I want to change my stage name.” Is the first thing that’s said, breaking the atmosphere previously created. Hanma hums. His arms wrap around your middle and pull you just a little closer—just enough so that you’re touching everywhere you possibly can, slick skin sliding against slick skin. 

    “To what?” He asks. He doesn’t question why you want to change it—he can assume why, and he knows you’re not ready to talk about it yet. In time, he reminds himself. In time. 

    “I’m not sure,” you respond. Your skin shines in the light of the bathroom—cleaner than its been in probably twenty-four hours, washed of its glitter and cum and dirty lip prints. It feels good to be clean again. “Got any ideas?”

    “What about ‘Baby’?” Hanma asks. You almost laugh—he really doesn’t know? Your hands slide over his arms and you intertwine your fingers with his. 

    “You already have a Baby at the club.” You tell him. The water is getting cold—you pat his hand to let him know you’re ready to get out. He moves his arms so that the two of you can stand and Hanma can pull the plug in the drain. “Did you not know that?”

    “I don’t really pay attention to the other girls.” He says. When you step out of the tub, Hanma wraps a warm, thick towel around your shivering body, wrapping his own around his waist so it sits low on his hips. He shrugs. “They’re just on my payroll.”

    “Oh?” You tease. Your lips spread into a smug little grin. Hanma laughs at the look on your face. “So I’m special?”

    “I think you already knew that.” Hanma says. His voice is soft—something you think you’ll have to start getting used to eventually. It feels something like the beginnings of love. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. 

    “Yeah, as much as you tried to deny it for months.” You laugh. Hanma pauses as the two of you walk to his bedroom again—he’s staring at you with wide eyes and a slack mouth. You wait for him to speak up.

    “What do you—you noticed that?” He asks. You snort at the way he looks at you, rifling through his drawers for a shirt and a pair of his boxers. The boxers aren’t as soft as your panties, but it’ll have to do for now. If—when—you stay over again, you’ll bring some of your clothes. You don’t know it yet, but Hanma plans on taking you to get a whole new wardrobe for his place. 

    “I’m not stupid, bossman.” You tell him. Hanma pulls on a pair of sweatpants with no underwear. You’ll remember that for later. 

    “Of course you’re not.” He says. The two of you lay back down in bed—your hair is wet and there’s probably no comb to put through it here—at least not one without hairspray all through it—so you just ignore it for now and hope it won’t be a nightmare later. 

    You face each other—your hands rest under your head as you watch Hanma watch you. His eyes roam your body; not in a way that will turn into something more heated, just admiring you—admiring your features and committing them to memory. 

    His hand cups your face—rough and warm, his thumb stroking over your cheek and then trailing down your neck and over your collarbone. 

    “What about ‘Bunny’?” He asks. You tilt your head a little with a confused look. “Your new stage name can be Bunny.” 

    It’s not a bad idea. The club—surprisingly—doesn’t have a girl that uses that name, and it’s far enough from your first one that it won’t be all that bad. 

    “Not bad, bossman.” You tell him. You pull yourself closer to him in bed, burying your face in his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and rests his chin on your head. 

    “Guess you’re not so clueless after all.”

    (And if later, you wear a gold chain with a bunny pendant on it and Hanma smirks whenever he sees it glint in the light of the club, nobody but you two need to know.)

    taglist - @kirakirasaku @myeternalyearning @shannonplease @rosesandtoshi @hertani​ @shujiful @wakaslut

    #lunas shit #tr posts <3 #tr nasties <3 #lunas nasties <3 #reader insert#female reader #tokyo revengers reader insert #tokyorev smut #hanma x female reader #hanma x reader #tokyo rev x reader #hanma angst
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  • hinatastinygiant
    20.11.2021 - 2 monts ago

    Chapter Three

    Pairing: Mitsuya x Fem!Reader

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    After that night you passed out in a complete stranger's arms, Hanma assured you that he'd found you and brought you back him. His story did check out, too. The next morning you had woken up with a pounding headache in your head and your body still clothed in your outfit from the previous night. But at least you were in the comfort of your own home.

    Now it's been about a month since you started partying at Wisteria. Despite saying each night that you would never go back while you are half-drunk, you still go. Kisaki doesn't mind the company, you were great for business. Customers loved partying with you.

    But soon, you begin to realize that your energy isn't the only reason he's glad you show up. He's let you into his little secret about meetings he holds on the upper level of the club and even invites you in with him. Though every time he has, you've been black-out drunk and don't remember a single thing that he talks about with these VIP clients.

    "Yo, Y/N, here ya go!" Hanma smiles as he holds out a fizzing, purple drink to you.

    You think nothing of the odd color as you down the whole thing in one big chug. He nods as he watches you place the empty glass down onto the table before you. His hand then reaches low on your back, lowering even further until he's squarely grabbing onto your ass.

    He pulls you close to him as he walks you through the club and up the stairs towards the second floor. There, he calls out to Kisaki who turns around and smiles when he sees you.

    "Ah, Y/N! How're you feeling?" he asks gently.

    "Good," you grin as you take his hand in yours.

    Kisaki hums and introduces you to the stranger beside him. Together, the four of you then walk into a small meeting room. Kisaki pulls out the seat beside him, ushering you to sit just like you always do when you're allowed in the meetings.

    "So, Y/N, as I've said, this is a friend of mine," Kisaki begins again.

    You smile politely as the stranger unbashfully checks you out.

    "Why is this so formal then?" you ask, a bit confused due to a spinning head that you try not to let be too obvious to the others.

    "I was hoping that he could borrow a portion of Toman's budget," Kisaki explains.

    "What?! Why would I do that?! Mikey and Draken will kill me if I made a decision like that without them! Takemitchy and Mitsuya... Everyone else!" you squeak. "No way!"

    "Calm down, Y/N," Kisaki says casually. "You don't need to worry about all of that. I'll cover for you."

    "Okay... well what does he need the money for?" you ask as you look over at the stranger who's still checking you out. You look away from him quickly, a bit embarrassed that he's still staring.

    Kisaki lets out a deep breath. "He got too deep into drugs. He really needs to go to rehab to correct himself," he admits. "If he doesn't go, who knows what'll happen to him."

    "What 'bout your mon-" you begin before Hanma leans over your side and pushes your hair away from your ear.

    "You could really save this guy's life if you help," he whispers. "Did you say you struggled with addiction before meeting Mikey? Y/N, you're the only one who can help him because you're the treasurer. You're in charge of the budget and money."

    Chills run down your back as his cool breath hits the lobe of your ear. As your frozen in dizzying confusion, Hanma passes an official-looking paper over to Kisaki. He then reaches down in front of you and holds a pen before you.

    You look down at the document that Kisaki places on the table before you. You stare down at it, attempting to read it though it blurs more and more as you focus on the print way too small for you to be able to read.

    "All you have to do is sign this so the poor guy can get some help, Y/N," Hanma coaxes you.

    You reach to take the pen out of Hanma's hand but miss the small object. Your eyebrows knit together as one pen turns to two and two turns into three.

    "I don't think I can sign," you grumble as Hanma pushes the writing utensil into your hand.

    "Do you want to sign it?" Kisaki's voice hums smoothly against your other ear.

    "Mhm," you respond as you attempt to search for the signature line towards the bottom of the page.

    In a flash, Kisaki's hand folds over yours and helps you write what looks like an 'X' at the bottom of the document. Immediately after, the pen is ripped from your hand. There's then a sting on the pad of your thumb; a warm, wet sensation. Your thumb is pressed against the paper firmly, creating a red print below.

    When Kisaki lets go of you, you lean back into your chair. You look up, watching the ceiling spin around above you. Hanma then appears in your vision, standing upside down behind you. You see him smile down at you as your eyes begin to close.

    "Goodnight, sleeping beauty," he hums as your vision blurs and fades to black.

    When you come to, you're back downstairs at the bar with a full drink in your hand.

    "Bartender," you call out across the bar you're sitting at. "How long have I been sitting here?"

    "All night, Miss," he replies politely.

    Confused, you nod and thank him. You then turn the barstool around, hoping to find a familiar face. However, Kisaki, Hanma, and the stranger are nowhere to be seen. Just then, another voice calls out to the bartender from the other end of the bar. A familiar voice that catches your ear and plagues your mind. You've heard that voice before... But from where?

    At the other side of the bar sits a somewhat familiar-looking man. You squint your eyes, but you just can't tell who it is. The man orders his drink calmly and then turns his head to face you directly. You quickly look away, feeling awkward that he caught you staring at him.

    "What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?" the man groans.

    Your body tenses up. It immediately strikes you once he says your name. Mitsuya!?

    You look back over at the familiar man. "Hey," you chuckle awkwardly. "What're you doing here, Mitsuya?"

    I thought nobody else in Toman knew about this place...

    Mitsuya picks up his drink and walks over to sit beside you. "Did Hanma and Kisaki bring you here?" he asks.

    "Yeah," you admit, looking down into your own half-empty drink, "but I thought it was supposed to be a secret."

    "That's what they told me, too," he nods. "So don't tell anyone I'm here, alright?"

    "Sure, but you still didn't answer why you're here."

    Mitsuya shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. "It's really not important. I only started coming recently, anyways. It's not a bad place to hang out."

    "I think I've been here for about a month," you admit. "Maybe longer..."

    The Toman captain shakes his head in what seems to be disappointment, and takes another swig of his drink before dumping the rest of it out onto the floor. You stare at him completely shocked as he gently places the empty glass onto the bar table.

    "Uh... Mitsuya. You okay?"

    "We should get out of here," he interrupts.

    Your brain is spinning a million miles a second as you attempt to figure out what the hell is going on. At this point, you're way past confused.

    "Come on, Y/N, let's go. I'm not letting you stay here any longer tonight," he tells you as he stands up and places his hand on your shoulder. "I'm not messing around. Get up."

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    Taglist: @wakasa-wifey @sseorin @jinchuriki-hunter

    #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x you #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya tokrev #takashi mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya x y/n #takashi mitsuya x you #x fem!reader #x reader#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers series #tokyo revengers self insert #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #hinatastinygiant#wicked games#fanfiction series#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#wattpad
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  • hinatastinygiant
    18.11.2021 - 2 monts ago

    Chapter Two

    Pairing: Mitsuya x Fem!Reader

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    After Hanma has taken your hand, he pulls you in the opposite direction of the Toman base. He leads you back through the park in the cold rain and eventually outside of what looks to be a rundown building.

    "Yo, Kisaki, I'm back!" Hanma shouts out as he swings the door open.

    As you step inside, your eyes almost fall out of their sockets. You've found yourself in one of the most luxurious clubs you've been inside of. You walk forward, admiring the marble columns, gigantic crystal chandelier, round plush sofas, and red chairs as you step through. On the other side of the room is a stage with a peninsula jutting out, finalized with a stripper pole at the end.

    "Hanma, why are we here? And why're you calling out to Kisaki?! He's not here, too, is he?" you begin to ask as you continue looking around.

    "Ah, hello there Miss Treasurer," Kisaki calls out.

    You look up and watch as he walks across the balcony on the second floor. He slowly steps down the large stairs, his eyes perfectly trained on you the whole time.

    "What brings you here?" he hums.

    "I caught poor Y/N in the rain by herself," Hanma interrupts on your behalf. You could swear you saw a smirk on his lips as he leans his body against yours.

    Once Kisaki reaches the first floor he whips off his dry Toman jacket and wraps it around your shoulders.  "What were you doing out in the rain?" he asks.

    "I wanted to talk to Draken about something but, uh..." you trail off, a bit too ashamed to admit the rest to him.

    Kisaki looks over at Hanma, trusting that his closest friend will give him the answer he's looking for.

    "We got the fortunate opportunity of witnessing Draken propose to Emma!" Hanma beams, obviously not worrying about your feelings as he speaks.

    "Oh? I didn't know he planned on proposing," Kisaki hums. "Did you know? Is that why you went, Y/N?"

    If you didn't know any better, you'd think this was a setup by the way Kisaki's almost provoking you to admit the real reason you were there... As if he already knew.

    "No, I had no idea," you shake your head, eyebrows knitting together in frustration. If they didn't know by now, they'd be complete idiots. It'd be quite obvious to anyone at this point that you're jealous.

    "I get it, Y/N," Kisaki nods as he wraps his hand around your arm. "There's someone I'm quite fond of, too."

    You lift your eyes to meet his. This is the first time you've seen Kisaki in this light, actually being somewhat vulnerable. You'd always thought he was cold and distant but perhaps you were wrong. As he gazes back at you, a sympathetic look glows in his eyes.

    "I deal with the unreciprocated feelings well, though," he grins. "Want to know how?"

    "Sounds almost too good to be true," you scoff. "But I guess I'll take what advice I can get."

    "Well then," Hanma's voice booms as he dramatically extends his arms out to the side, "You sure are lucky I've brought you here! The Wisteria Club's great for letting your daily problems fade away!"

    You look over at Kisaki, a bit uneasy from the strange way Hanma was speaking. As you do, Kisaki pulls out a spliff and places it between his teeth.

    "So?" he hums. "What do you think?"

    He then pulls out a lighter from the pocket in the jacket that's still wrapped around you and lights the end of the paper.

    "I don't think Mikey would be happy to see us doing this... Does he even know about this, uh..."

    "Wisteria," Hanma nods.

    "Right. I really don't think we should be here. Takemitchy would be upset, too..." you think aloud.

    "This is my club, Y/N. Mikey doesn't need to know about it and it's not Takemitchy's damn business either!" Kisaki grumbles before blowing out a puff of smoke and handing you the weed. You sigh and accept it, deeply sucking in the vapor.

    "So you own this place? It's quite extravagant for a captain. As treasurer I'm sure you aren't making nearly enough to afford this stuff," you point out as you blow out a puff of smoke.

    "You took a good pull there," Hanma laughs, ignoring your comment. "You talked big a few minutes ago for a junkie."

    "I am not!" you snap. "I was clean ever since I met Mikey. I used to have a bit of a problem before I met him..."

    Kisaki's arm around your body squeezes you a bit tighter. "You don't need to worry, Y/N. We'll take care of you and make sure you don't fall too deep, okay?"

    "Sure," you smile as you take another hit of the weed before passing it to Hanma. "Thanks, guys."

    "Not a problem," Kisaki nods.

    Hanma beams as he takes the weed from your hand. "Not a problem at all."

    Every night since then you've hung out with Kisaki and Hanma at their huge underground club. They've both asked you to keep your mouth shut about it. None of the other Toman members know it exists. Lucky you.

    And from that night of your promise, you've spent the majority of your time outside of your Toman job partying, drinking, hooking up, and doing drugs with the other party-goers you meet.

    A lot of times, Hanma would join in on your adventures or just watch as you completely lose yourself in the night. You hardly even noticed when he began to spike your drinks or pressure you into a few lines of coke each night. The times that you did notice, you didn't even care at all. You were having the time of your life so why would you stop him? By this point in time, the two of you had become somewhat close.

    One night in particular, you push your way through a crowd using the other bodies around you as a support to help you from falling. But once you reach the end of the sea of people, you struggle to stay up on your own two feet.

    "Woah there, Y/N," Hanma's voice calls out from somewhere in the spinning room as he grabs onto your arm to prevent you from falling. "Better watch out."

    "Shit," you mutter as you grab back onto him as though your life depends on it. "Sorry, Shuji. I don't feel so well."

    As you force yourself up onto two feet, Hanma allows you to stabilize yourself. Unfortunately, it's only a moment later when he pulls away and disappears into the flashing lights and colors of the room.

    "Shuji?!" you whimper, holding your arms out to look for him. You stumble forward, blinking quickly to catch a brief moment of somewhat clear vision.

    Eventually, your hands meet with another man. His dark clothing leads you to believe for a quick moment that it's either Kisaki or Hanma until his bright, red eyes burn through the small, rectangular frames of his glasses and into your soul. His cigarette doesn't falter from his mouth as he catches you easily into his hands. Your eyes quickly scan the sides of his lips as they curl up into a smile and into his black hair that shifts as he pulls you straight against his chest.

    "My, you're pretty," he says with a toothy grin.

    Three silver earrings catch your gaze next before you feel your body go limp in his arms.

    "Help," you mutter weakly before passing out in his arms.

    Wicked Games Masterlist

    Taglist: @wakasa-wifey
    #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x you #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya tokrev #takashi mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya x y/n #takashi mitsuya x you #x fem!reader #x reader#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers series #tokyo revengers self insert #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #hinatastinygiant#wicked games#fanfiction series#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#wattpad
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  • sukunasbabymama
    10.11.2021 - 2 monts ago


    └ Pairing. Hanma Shuji, Yasuhiro “Mucho” Muto, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Nahoya “Smiley” Kawata, Baji Keisuke.

    └ Summary. Their paranoid crush giving them a strong sock in the jaw when they startle her.

    └ Warnings. Cursing.

    └ Note. As usual, I change little details otherwise the same situation would be repeated over and over.


    Hanma Shuji.

    Everybody and their mama knew about his crush on you, even you, that’s why you are working to get used to his little games, although it is quite difficult since we are talking about Hanma Shuji.

    He smirks devilishly when he sees that you’re distracted talking to Kisaki so he walks slowly to where you are. Kisaki sees his intentions and raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything since he doesn’t like interrupting you.

    “Hey, angel.” He whispers in your ear from behind.

    Your first instinct is to elbow whoever came up to you like that. You run behind Kisaki and look down at Hanma coughing with a hand on his abdomen.

    “What the fuck, Shuji?!” You say agitated and he just smirks.

    “Goddamn, you got some good strength, love.” He says with a smile but frowning at the pain.

    You walk to him and put his arm around your shoulder to help him walk, unconsciously you lift your hand to rub his abdomen.

    “I’m sorry.” You mumble.

    “S’okay, don’t stop doing that to any person that scares you, yeah?” He says and you nod.

    Yasuhiro “Mucho” Muto.

    It wasn’t even his intention to startle you, he was just too silent for his own good. You had your hands around Sanzu’s shoulders, from behind and Mucho came behind your back, putting his big hand on your small back.

    “That’s dange—,” With a scream your elbow connects directly to his face, making him take two steps back to put his hand on his nose to stop the bleeding.

    “Oh my God— I’m so sorry, Yasuhiro!” You run to him, your eyes wide open and your hands flying to his face. “I’m sorry, I get too paranoid so if you come behind me like that I tend to have that reaction, I’m so so—,”

    He looks at you with a small smile.

    “Was that your best shot?” He mumbles with a smirk and you pout, still embarrassed that he is bleeding because of you.

    “Yasu!” You whine but he just pulls you to his chest.

    “It’s okay, we’ll work on the precision though.” You giggle.

    “Yes sir,” You whisper, sliding your hands around his waist to hug him.

    Sanzu Haruchiyo.

    He adores you so much oh my God, he loves to see you boss around all the Bonten members when you’re building missions up.

    This time, you were leaning on the big table, focused on some papers that Kokonoi gave you.

    “Takeomi, can you please arrange a meeting with the head of these four buildings?” You murmur, pointing at some papers that were on the table.

    “Sure, let me know what time works for you and if you need one of the guys to be your bodyguard.” The advisor of Bonten nods while simultaneously looking through his phone for the numbers of the people that you need.

    “Thanks, Wednesday at— GOOD FUCKING HELL!” You scream when you feel two hands on your waist, automatically throwing your elbow back, colliding it with someone’s ribs. “Fuck.”

    When you look back and down you see Sanzu with his eyes wide open, on one knee and with a hand rubbing the damaged area.

    “Are you out of your mind? How the fuck do you come from behind knowing how we need to be alert at all times in this damn business?” You were saying while crouching in front of him to start unbuttoning his dress shirt.

    “Damn… you could kill me with your bare hands if you want.” He murmurs, now understanding why Mikey has so much trust in you being his bodyguard on high profile missions.

    “That’s not something new, Sanzu…” You giggle, caressing the reddened area softly.

    “I like that.” He whispers, watching your face.

    “Of course you would like a person beating your ass, psycho.” Takeomi rolls his eyes and you laugh.

    Nahoya “Smiley” Kawata.

    He knows you get scared easily, you told him that you’re a little paranoid but he doesn’t know how bad it is. Until today.

    For some random reason, you were at one of the Toman’s meetings, waiting for them at the parking lot with Emma, so when they finish he decides to look for you, just to find you sitting comfortably on top of his bike. He smiles and walks to where you are and even though there is a lot of noise around you are too focused on your conversation with Emma, that is why he decides to just pinch your sides from behind.

    “I think ’Hoya is gonna take me home tonight since he doesn’t like me riding with everybody so—,” The scream you let out almost froze him on the spot. Almost, since your elbow connecting with his stomach forced him to fall on his butt on the floor, coughing. “Nahoya!!”

    You hop out of his bike and run to his side with worry in your eyes, you take his face in your hands and frown when he looks at you smiling.

    “I told you I get startled too easily, why didn’t you listen?! I’m so sorry…” You bite your lip embarrassed but he is still smiling.

    “Call me how you were calling me earlier when you were talking to Emma.” He murmurs.

    “I— What? ‘Hoya? I called you ‘Hoya.”

    “Why did you never call me that to my face?” He tilts his head a little bit.

    “Uh, I don’t know…”

    He smirks.

    “Start doing it, sweetheart.”

    Baji Keisuke.

    You’ve told him multiple times that you get scared easily due to you being a little paranoid but the poor boy can't understand what does that have to do with him getting happy every time he sees you.

    As soon as he sees you from far away in one of the meetings he’s allowed to go, he is gone. He runs to where you are with a playful smile. He shouts your name but since he is already too close to where you are you don’t register the owner of the voice and so when he hugs you from behind your first instinct is to elbow him.

    “F-fuck, shit shit— ugh…” He falls on his knees, clutching to his side but still smiling. He is just happy to see you after being grounded for two weeks.

    “For the love of God, Baji Keisuke, what did I tell you, uh? What did I tell you?” You say with a hand on your hip, looking down at him.

    He leans on his hands, open bent legs and a damn big smile on his face. You sigh and crouch in the middle of his open legs, you frown.

    “I don’t like being startled, Kei.” His smile disappears.

    “I’m sorry, I was happy as fuck when I saw you. I haven’t seen you in fourteen days.” He explains and then nods to himself. “I’m sorry.”

    You chuckle and lift your hand to cup his cheek, he closes his eyes and leans on your hand.

    “It’s okay, let’s think about a nickname so it doesn’t matter from how far away you call me, I’ll know it’s you.” You tell him.

    He shrugs.

    “I’ll call you baby.”


    “That’s my nickname for you.”

    “B-But what if another—,”

    “If another person that isn’t me calls you by that name, I’ll break their legs.” You roll your eyes

    “You know what— okay.”

    He smiles and does a little dance.

    🏷: @saturnmitsuya @milliumizoomi @dai-tsukki-desu @haitanigigi @yunho-leeknow @melaninnntae @keimisan @welkinmoongrab @plutosexc @ccxiia @manjiroarchiviste @aasouthteranoswife @crushsoli @gwynsapphire @eriskaitto @crapimahuman @inu1gf @q-the-rockaholic

    #☽. kk writes #tokyo revengers#tokyorev#tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji fluff #hanma shuji#shuji hanma #shuji hanma x reader #yasuhiro muto fluff #yasuhiro muto x reader #yasuhiro muto #mucho x reader #mucho tokyo revengers #nahoya fluff#nahoya kawata #tokyo revengers nahoya #nahoya x reader #tokyo revengers smiley #baji x reader headcanons #baji x reader fluff #baji keisuke #baji keisuke x reader
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  • chifemi
    07.11.2021 - 2 monts ago

    𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬

    — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: hanma shuji, inui seishu, kokonoi hajime, haitani rindou, haitani ran, hitto kakucho

    — 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this’ll definitely be a hit or miss type of post, but i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and for all these characters! except for you rindou🙄 i think i got most of their characters right! (cw suggestive!!!)


    you sat in the passenger seat of his car as he drove down one of the many side streets of shibuya. hanma really wanted to take you to meet kisaki, someone he said he met just a few weeks ago. you sighed as the warm air from the car brushed past your cold nose, slowly heating it up the longer you sat. you looked out of your window, just admiring the passing scenery and people you passed. and as you looked so intently through the glass, you wondered just why the only other person in the car had been so quiet. he usually talked your ear off, and now, he was silent. you had glanced at him through the corner of your eye, only to see him staring at you, more specifically, at your lips, and then back at the road. “hanma, stop staring, it’s weird.” you turned your head to face him, an eyebrow raised as he glanced over at you once more before looking back at the road, a smirk growing on his lips.  your eyes narrowed at his response as his eyes moved to look at his rear view mirror, and that’s when the car came to a halt, pulling you forward and slamming your head into the head rest. and before you could say a word, he was suddenly in your face, his elbow resting on your arm rest, his face only inches away from yours. “how could i not stare when you look at me like that?” your eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as your breathing become quick. you could feel your face heating up as he sat back in his seat, driving off like nothing had happened.


    he sat across from you as you typed something up on your laptop. he had said he’d come with you to the library to try and be productive, and here you were, doing just that. all while he sat there not knowing what to do. don’t get him wrong, he loves spending time with you, he just didn’t know what to do at a library. he didn’t want to read, he didn’t want to interrupt you just when you started getting motivation to do things again, so he thought he’d admire you, anything and everything about you, silently. your hair, your eyes, your nose, your concentrated expression, your lips. and before he knew it, he just couldn’t take his eyes off your lips. and you noticed, of course you did, who wouldn’t? “inui? you alright? you were staring.” his eyes widened, blinking rapidly as he came out of whatever trance he was in. his face grew red in only a few seconds as he spoke and avoided any and all eye contact. “sorry.” he was glad to hear your giggles instead of your teasing remarks this time.


    he sat on your bed, writing budget things in his notepad as you sat on the other side of the room, your chair turned to face him as you read something on your phone. it was a comfortable silence that both of you enjoyed more than you’d like to admit. out of the corner of his eye, he had seen you resting your elbow on your knee, your pointer finger running across your bottom lip as you focused on your phone. his eyes widened, his face heating up as he couldn’t help but stare at your lips. he gripped his pen between his fingers, he could feel his heart beating faster, and honestly, he didn’t understand why. his eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, a confused yet intrigued expression on your face. “coco-kun, what are you staring at?” “quite teasing me.” his eyes narrowed, now looking at your eyes rather than your lips. “what?” “you make it so hard not to kiss you right now.” he couldn’t believe what he just said, but he rolled his eyes anyway, acting as if he was annoyed rather than flustered. so, in all honesty, he didn’t expect you to say what you did next. “so, why don’t you if it’s that hard?” you faked an innocent look, a small grin plastered on your lips.


    you ran in between two buildings, chasing someone with rindou as you followed right behind him. you don’t even remember what that poor guy did, all you know is rindou told you to follow him, and here you were, out of breath in the freezing cold at midnight. you tried your best to keep up, but that didn’t end up happening as you slowed your pace. rindou glanced behind him, narrowing his eyes once he saw you so far back. he slowed down with you until he came to a full stop, letting the man he was chasing turn the corner and make an escape. a frustrated sigh came from his throat as he turned on his heel and made his way towards you. you looked over at him from where you leaned against the building wall, he didn’t look happy, but he never does, so that wasn’t really concerning. what was concerning was the way he looked at you, specifically at your lips as you took breathes through your mouth. “rin, you’re staring, it’s freaking me out.” as he got closer without saying a word, your heart beat just a little bit faster. he wouldn’t hurt you, right? you were his friend, right? You took a step away from the wall, just in case. because you had seen that look in his eye before, and nothing was good after that. with just another step towards you, he placed his hand on your stomach and pushed you back towards the wall, his hands making their way to your waist. he sighed, slowly leaning his forehead against yours as he looked at your eyes. “that guy got away,” he began. “it’s been a rough day y/n, he was gonna be my stress reliever.” your eyes widened as a nervous smile made its way to your lips. “sorry ‘bout that.” “well, i need to release some stress one way or another love.” his thumb ran across your bottom lip as he stared at it. “your lips will just have to do.”


    you walked down the street, the cold air making you shiver as the street lamps shined down on you and ran. he had pestered you into coming to find his brother with him. apparently rindou had run off somewhere to beat someone up, as per usual. you wouldn’t expect anything less from him. you glanced around, hoping that maybe you’d be able to see him so you could go back home, but of course that didn’t happen. though what you did see was a pair of eyes staring at you when they should’ve been looking for his brother. “you’re staring.” he chuckled, giving you the same lazy smile he always wears. “i know.” his smile suddenly turns into a smirk as he kicks your legs out from beneath you, making you fall backwards. a small shriek came from your throat as he caught you, one arm holding you up, not letting you fall or even move a muscle as his other hand comes up to brush against your bottom lip. your eyes widened, your face heating up faster than it ever had as you heart began beating faster at the closeness. “aww, are you all riled up now?” his voice quiet, but nonetheless teasing and amused at the situation. he got closer, and closer, so close that you really thought he was going to kiss you. that was until he lifted you up, now standing upright as he began walking, leaving you a shocked and embarrassed mess. “let’s find my brother first, then you can go home, alright darling?”


    he sat beside you on the couch as you got ready for the movie night he’d been promising you for a few weeks now. it was finally time for you two to spend some quality time together for the first time in a while. so, as you picked out the perfect fluffy blankets, got some snacks ready, and brought over some hot chocolate for the both of you, you had realized he was watching your every movement, and when you looked close enough, you realized he was looking at your lips most of the time. you stopped, standing in front of him with an amused smile on your face. “kaku, i think you’re staring.” you spoke, trying not to laugh as you tapped your finger on your lips. his eyes widened before he looked away. “i wasn’t.” his face got red as you giggled at the pout forming on his lips. and this was just one of many reasons you loved him. 

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    #kemi.writes #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo rev x reader #hanma shuji#hanma #hanma x reader #inui x reader #inui seishu#inui #inupi x reader #kokonoi x reader #kokonoi#kokonoi hajime#haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou#haitani ran #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #kakucho hitto #kakucho x reader #kakucho#hanma imagine#inui imagine#kokonoi imagine #haitani rindou imagine #haitani ran imagine #kakucho imagine
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