Synopsis: The territory between the Uchiha and the Senju dwindles by the day. And in an era where social lines have been blurred, and new clan heads have been chosen, you're stuck between a scorned lover and a man who relentlessly pursues your hand in marriage. You don't have much time before you're forced to confront the sins of your past.
Word Count: 8.7k
Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.
Chapter I | Previous Chapter | Part XII (Current Chapter)
Notes: It's here! Real long! Light editing! AA!
Formulating a plan without knowing what the other proposals would be was difficult. You heard a fair amount of them, but the Uchiha were set to present before the Hyūga, Inuzuka, and Fuma. So, the best you could do was look over Madara’s existing ideas and hope that knowing them well enough would be enough of a defense. The best defense was the best offense or something like that. It was a Senju phrase.
“What you have is nothing,” Tobirama frowned, throwing your papers on the floor between you. “The Uchiha are sure to fumble through their defense with a half-baked strategy such as this.”
“Half-baked?” You scowled, a vein in your forehead twitching. You had done exactly as you were told, and with the Uchiha proposal slowly approaching its due date, you thought you were as thorough as possible. “I will have you know that I have spent hours and days with Madara to deliberate on these things. I have already come to you several times for adjustments—”
“And yet, this is the best you could muster?” Tobirama plucked up one page that remained on his desk. He read aloud, “‘The Uchiha will be allocated the village high ground as this is the best position for watch over the village.’” He locked narrowed eyes with you.
“It is directly from Madara.”
“That is the problem here, is it not? I agreed to advise you on drafts that you wrote—”
— “I did write them!” —
— “Not this ridiculous dictation that seemed to have been worded by a mere babe,” Tobirama sighed, holding the page to his face in scrutiny. “I am disappointed, for I would have thought Madara would have conducted himself far more eloquently than this… Although—” He lowered the paper to meet your gaze once again. — “The penmanship is decent.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes.
“For all my work, and you only give me decent.”
Tobirama pivoted with the paper, meandering in a random direction away from you. He waved a hand in the air.
“It is not the Senju way.”
“Well, I am not a Senju. Am I now?” You were quick to snap. Tobirama paused as your words filled the room. He hummed, not admitting defeat out loud. “I thought you were going to help me, Tobirama. We had a deal.”
“Either way, there is no way the Uchiha can expect to present a proposal such as this. And it is not simply my opinion. I am appalled you did not come to consult me sooner. I am not hard on this proposal for the sake of bitterness, I assure you.” Tobirama stiffened, his shoulders tensing as he regarded you. “Your proposal, as it stands, will get torn to shreds.”
“But it is so straightforward!”
“It most certainly is not. I anticipate several questions some of the other clan leaders might have.”
“Like what?”
“Well, first, what constitutes the high ground?” Tobirama turned the paper around, holding it by the top. His hands shook slightly in accent and, in turn, shook the paper. “Where is it? What is the distance that the Uchiha would like to claim? Why should the Uchiha be allotted this land? Not to mention this insinuation that the Uchiha will act as, what? Guardian over the newly allied village?”
“Is it not natural?” Your forehead scrunched. “The Uchiha forces are so formidable that we have been a dominant clan for generations. The sharingan eye is the ultimate jutsu.”
Tobirama’s stare bore into yours. You could tell he was thinking, if not by his slow breath. When he finally spoke, he did so slowly.
“Perhaps it is natural for you, but it is most certainly not in the eyes of other clans, especially ones that found themselves in Uchiha territory,” Tobirama said sternly, his words wedging deep in your chest. The perspective rattled you as you begrudgingly clenched your teeth. “Do not forget that the sharingan eye, for its power, is also a symbol of danger to many still.”
You simmered to yourself, eyes cast somewhere else.
“As if the Senju vajra is any different,” you muttered. Even without looking at him, you could feel Tobirama regarding you from your peripheral.
“I do not disagree,” Tobirama finally rumbled. You turned away, continuing to avoid his straight gaze. “But you are clever enough to know that there is a difference in the eyes of many still.”
“Well, it is comforting that you consider me clever,” you snapped, whipping around to a stone-faced Tobirama. He said nothing in retaliation, which seemed to annoy you more than if he said anything at all. Instead, you were left to simmer in your frustration.
Tobirama took a deep breath.
“Your opening motion is powerful and to your favor,” he said. You could see his chest deflate as he breathed out. You eyed him, wondering what brought on such a concession. “I was hoping that your entire document would be so strong.”
You frowned.
“I thought you said I had nothing.”
“Oh, you most certainly do not,” Tobirama countered with another light bounce of his brows. But his gaze quickly and earnestly returned to yours. “But in all my feedback, I did not touch your opener.”
You let out a hefty sigh of your own. In the face of his myriad of critiques, you hadn’t noticed that Tobirama had nothing to say about your opening motion. Instead of running yourself ragged, trying to fix everything else to fit his unspoken specifications, you wish you knew there was something he approved of. Perhaps then, you could have formulated the rest of what you had similarly.
“You do not seem to be big on praise,” you muttered.
Tobirama subtly arched his brow.
“Would you like me to praise you?”
You didn’t humor him with an answer.
And under the scrutiny of your gaze, Tobirama spoke levelly, “You intend to make a change, yes? Because you do not trust Madara’s judgment.”
“Do not say it as such,” you reluctantly affirmed. You pouted, glancing out from the corner of your eye at Tobirama. You hadn’t intended to meet his eye fully, but you couldn’t help the instinctual double take you made as you accidentally met his even stare.
“If you intend to make a difference through your writings, it must be done via your writings. I cannot say I understand your motives when you do not submit your own writings and do not even implement the adjustments I advised you to make—”
“Aye, you talk to me as if I were an imbecile… or a student…”
“Nay, you considered it a comfort that I thought you clever, did you not?” Tobirama’s lips formed a tight line, an attempt to suppress the apparent amusement on his face. As stoic and unfriendly as he appeared, he truly looked boyish when he smiled. Perhaps that’s why it seemed that he tried to smile as seldom as possible. But for as quickly as his slight smirk appeared, it faded. “You will not be able to speak during the presentation; only Madara will be able to—”
“Other clans allowed other members to speak,” you quickly countered with a furrow of your brow. “Other than their respective clan heads, I mean.”
“That would be the chosen primary, or the first seat as some clans call them,” Tobirama said. “Other than the clan leader, only one representative from the clan may speak. From then on, that primary may participate in the discussions to follow, within reason, of course.”
You frowned, glancing off to the side.
“That sounds awfully inefficient,” you muttered.
“It is tradition.”
“I have never been one for tradition.” You turned your head back to Tobirama, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. You crossed your arms.
“The reason I bring this up—” Tobirama continued — “Is to ask you what you consider your chances are of being selected as primary?”
He knew the answer, and so did you.
“I am the clearest choice, am I not?” you countered noncommittally.
Not what he asked, but Tobirama knew better than to push. Or rather, he knew when to fold.
“I would advise that you get on the same page as Madara before you consider your duty done.” You glanced down at the pages on the floor. “It is never guaranteed that a clan head will choose the best-suited primary, no matter how illogical. This is politics, after all.”
“I believe our policies will speak for themselves,” you huffed.
“And if they cannot?”
You studied Tobirama closely, eyes slightly narrowed. Slowly, you bent at the knee to gather your papers from the floor, but Tobirama already had them collected in his hand before you could reach a full squat. He held them out to you.
“Oh, so you choose now to help me?”
You snatched the pages from him, standing suddenly. Tobirama rose with you, arms coiled over his chest.
“I have intended to help you. I am trying to help you.”
“By tearing my proposals apart and throwing them to the ground?” You gestured wildly in the face of Tobirama’s subtly rolling eyes.
“It is best that I tear them apart now than the whole negotiation table tomorrow,” he said, and his words rang out firmly over the atmosphere. His voice trailed off with a low grumble. Tobirama fidgeted in thought, brushing his fingers along the light, unnoticeable stubble that appeared on his cheeks. “I am attempting to forewarn you that things as they are will not end well. You are the one who came to me. How do you expect to make a difference with such incoherent points?”
“You are right about one thing. I came to you for help.” You turned on your heel to swiftly exit through the sliding paper door that led out onto the engawa. “Up yours, Tobirama.”
Tobirama shook his head, kneeling to sit at his desk somewhere behind you.
“I will be here when you need assistance picking up the pieces.”
The door slid shut with a quiet slam behind you.
***
It was a nerve-wracking night with little sleep. You spent even less time reorganizing your papers, pouring them over one last time before attempting to call it a night. You relied on the passage of time to bring you exactly where you stood now, behind Madara, as other clan representatives slowly trickled into the conference room.
The atmosphere was sobering. It was hard to ground yourself on anything in particular, and it was even more difficult to think about anything other than the upcoming discussions.
Other clan leaders and their primaries were already breaking out their essential documents, blank papers, scrolls, and quills. The table was a bit more crowded than before, with many clan leaders now seated next to their respective primaries. The chair for the primary, while not significantly smaller, was just noticeably smaller than the one reserved for the clan head.
The Uchiha also had a seat reserved for the primary, which sat empty next to Madara. He sat stone-faced, arms crossed over his broad chest, staring with boredom at random fixtures around the room. You craned your neck, looking around his shoulder to find your carefully written proposal lying face-down on the table.
“Madara?” you called lowly.
“Hush now,” he grumbled. He looked as if he were dozing off, even as he eyed you from his peripheral. “Give me your word that you will hush your tongue. It is paramount that none of the Uchiha, except for the clan head, speaks at this gathering.”
You frowned.
”What cause would I have to speak during a meeting between clan heads?”
The air always seemed to change once the Senju brothers walked in the door. The chatter lessened, and despite the air becoming slightly more stringent, Hashirama’s happy exterior consistently offset his otherwise intimidating presence.
His entrance was always paired with a trail of greetings: polite bows, Hashirama’s boisterous laugh, and personal tidbits sprinkled into casual chit-chat. Everyone wanted a piece of the God of Shinobi, yet he always made it to his seat promptly. Tobirama pressed him along, despite Hashirama’s protests.
You made sharp eye contact with Tobirama from across the table. He had one hand on his primary seat, glancing from your eyes to the empty Uchiha seat and back to you. Tobirama’s brows shifted, lids lowering momentarily before he sighed, pulling out his chair to sit and rifle through his papers.
You scowled. Your hand shot to Madara’s shoulder to shake him.
“Madara, I—”
“Hush, woman.”
“Shall we begin?” Hashirama’s jolly voice rang out over the room. The chatter and shuffling amongst the room quieted instantly as clan leaders and chosen representatives settled around the table. “I am certain we are more than enthusiastic to hear that on our docket today is the continuation of clan speeches and proposals.” The table erupted in soft laughs and grunts. “This marks day three of these, which means we are halfway through! Correct, Tobirama?”
Hashirama turned enthusiastically toward his brother, who slowly shook his head. Hashirama laughed again.
“Not even half,” Tobirama muttered, much to Hashirama’s apparent amusement.
“We must waste little time in the formalities then. But before I yield the floor, I would like to report updates on a few important matters. Firstly, concerning the complaints of animal activity disrupting several dwellings—”
You glanced back down at Madara, delivering a swift kick to the leg of his chair.
“Madara.”
“Quiet!” Madara snapped around, clutching the arm of his chair as he twisted his torso.
— “And now, I will yield the floor to the Uchiha!” Hashirama smiled warmly.
The entire room turned their attention to Madara as he positioned himself mid-scold, clearly paying little attention to the table. His irises darted to the corner of his eyes as he swiftly corrected his posture. He sat upright, squaring his shoulders. The Hyūga clan head rolled his eyes. Tobirama let out a silent sigh.
“If you would like to introduce your primary,” Hashirama led after a beat of silence. He breathed out a slight laugh. You supposed even the great Hashirama Senju wasn’t immune to awkward tension.
“The Uchiha will not be declaring a primary,” Madara recovered, his confidence having never waned.
You and Tobirama made accidental eye contact from across the table. His face was neutral, and his eyes hardly lingered, but you could practically hear his voice now.
“I told you so,” it echoed.
You imagined the setting of the Senju compound and Tobirama’s level face. If he were Madara, you were sure he would have gloated. At the very least, he would smirk with his chest puffed out. But you knew Tobirama was hardly the gloating type, and you considered it might have been easier if he was.
The other clan leaders and their respective primaries were already waiting for the presentation, quills in hand, and Madara spent little time stalling his time holding the floor. The choice to not declare a primary did not go unnoticed, but it served only as a tidbit of information that could be torn apart behind closed doors.
But even in his swiftness, Madara’s motion to take the papers in front of him and drop them to the ground didn’t escape you. You had no hope of protesting even if you wanted to.
“The Uchiha move to declare that the cliffside territory to the east shall be best suited for the unified village,” Madara spoke. A few gazes stealthily shot up to his face. “The Uchiha endorse a sectoral settlement plan, unregulated use of ninjutsu, and no minimum age limitation on ninjutsu training.”
”A proposed territory for the village, correct?” Hashirama hummed, seeking genuine clarification. He penned a few notes, hardly looking up from his paper.
Tobirama penned down his notes, spending just a fraction less time than his brother. He did, after all, have an inside scoop on the Uchiha proposal. Although, he couldn’t make it abundantly evident that he did. His mouth tugged downward into a disappointed frown as he studied the neat letters below his hand. In a twisted way, you knew that Tobirama was the only person in the room who knew what was going through your head.
You shared the same thoughts, though; this was not the plan.
“I told you so,” you imagined again.
“Hashirama,” Madara started, “Is not the grand cliffside not where we decided to build the village?”
Another clan head interrupted, “It is not up to the Uchiha to decide such matters.”
Tobirama heaved a deep breath. And so it was beginning.
Hashirama, in his abundance of patience, spoke as cordially as usual, “Ah, it is understood. The Uchiha propose the Grand Cliffside as the optimum location.”
“Nay, You misunderstand. It is being declared as such.” Madara nodded with certainty. “Not only is it the truth, but it is the decision by the clan heads of the two most formidable clans in the land.”
“Madara,” Hyūga spoke. He elegantly returned his quill to its ornately crafted well. “I plead that you may refrain from the assumption that objectivity is equivalent to fact.”
“Do plead, Hyūga. I will allow it.” Madara rolled his eyes, a scoff puffing his chest pompously. Hyūga scowled.
“Most formidable is quite the boast,” huffed Inuzuka. “Perhaps it would be best if this discussion was tethered to a point, nay, Hashirama?” She glanced toward the Senju.
“If I would only be allowed to speak,” Madara lamented, coming to stand and turn around. You had set up diagrams directly behind where the Uchiha sat at the back of the room. Madara motioned to a simple diagram: a circular depiction of the land at the base of the Grand Cliff Side. “The Uchiha endorse a most logical approach,” he declared, gesturing with certainty but without clear aim at the figure.
“All clans will claim a territory. Shared official buildings will sit at the base off the cliff side, although each clan territory may also elect local government. Due to such a design, it is paramount that the Uchiha are allotted the high ground—” Madara gestured to a long stretch of colored-in land. “It will be best for instructing young ones.” He took a breath to continue.
“Please, I implore that you pause a moment.” Mito raised her hand, quill still between her fingers as she sat with brows crinkled at a document on the table before her. She looked up at Madara. “There is quite a bit of information packed into your assertions. I want to take the time to comb through them thoroughly.”
Madara’s eyes narrowed as he glanced from the figure to Mito.
“What is there to clarify?” he questioned. “Is it not natural?”
“I am afraid it is not,” Yamanaka affirmed. He propped his elbow on the table, holding up his document. “I will give grace in the sense that the territory by the cliff has more or less been unanimously agreed upon despite a lack of vote,” he shrugged, bobbing his head as he made eye contact with various other leaders around the table. But his eyes then returned to Madara. “This being considered, let us start with the allotment of the territory.”
“Is it not fair?” Madara once again asserted.
“Say each clan declares a space of their own,” Yamanaka spoke, studying his page. “What is to be done concerning most fertile land? Land that has access to fresh water or has cultural value?”
“Areas of high value or that offer necessities will be placed under the control of the village at large,” Madara countered.
“How does such a thing work if, say, a river runs through, perhaps, multiple territories?” Akamichi asked. “Or perhaps if we consider the case of, say, bathing in the water upstream and disturbing the water downstream. And where might local governance play a role?”
“That would simply have to be a discussion amongst clan heads.” Madara frowned. “If local governance is too much of a complication, we shall do without.”
“How is it that the Uchiha are allowed to preemptively stake a claim in territory?” Hyūga pointed out, gesturing to the darkened section of the diagram. “It surely cannot be fair to assume that the territory every clan would have the opportunity to claim could be so large. It would be impossible to divide the land equally by these metrics.”
“Do without? Would a discussion between clan heads when these preventable conflicts arise not land us back where we are now?” Mito frowned, but she turned her otherwise neutral gaze to the table. “I take issue with segregation myself. Are we not gathered to encourage unity? Would taking allotted land within village limits not be the same as what we have been doing for generations now?”
“It is naive to consider that citizens of all clans can suddenly cohabitate.” Madara frowned. “Are we to ban people from being with their own?”
“I believe that is the point that Uzumaki is attempting to bring to your attention,” Tobirama spoke. His deep voice almost startled you. “While a clan is a source of pride, many of us believe that shifting to the village being one’s people would benefit us all.”
You couldn’t help but scoff.
That’s rich coming from you.
“Thank you, Tobirama,” Mito offered him a polite nod. “I do not argue that we should demand that husbands swap wives, children, and elders alike. Perhaps as an extension to an Uchiha plan, we may designate habitable areas open to all clans.” Mito turned her attention to Yamanaka. “Was that not an idea that you shared with the Uzumaki?”
Yamanaka nodded, “Aye, such a concept seemed favorable indeed.”
“I argue that such a compromise would also bring us back to present proceedings,” Madara pressed on. “Whether a clan or an individual, people will certainly continue to quarrel over new land. In predetermining a location for each clan, the council is able to determine fairness. It is a ruling not to be argued with.”
“Aye, it is the way things are done in the West,” Hagoromo agreed.
“I am not opposed to such a decision,” Fuma hummed. “It will save many disputes and many petty negotiations.” He glanced at Inuzuka, who nodded her head, before training his eyes on Hyūga. “What say you, Hyūga?”
Hyūga tensed. He shifted forward in his seat, folding his fingers over each other.
“This idea has merits.” He gave a slow nod, barely moving his head. “Although, this does not negate the fact that the Uchiha are laying stake to a claim to land in their own proposal.”
“One issue at a time…” muttered Inuzuka.
“The Uchiha move to call a vote,” Madara announced, perhaps more flippantly than the matter called for. Most clans typically waited until after their presentations to call for votes, if at all.
“It is easier to sell it as a packaged deal,” Tobirama had explained. “Clans only reserve the right to call for a vote once, so it is best to combine multiple proposed ideas that were favorable to the council. Typically, a clan would want to do this before the end of negotiations, but not so early to be hasty. In your case, it is a bit different—”
“I am not certain that the issue is even clear,” Hashirama laughed lightly. “Please clarify, and we can certainly move to a vote.” His brows bounced, almost as if he didn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. Hashirama wasn’t opposed to holding a vote, but even he silently questioned Madara’s strategy.
The original plan was to begin the proposal with a vote. After all, most, if not all, clans gathered thought favorably of the territory by the Grand Cliffside. Especially considering that most knew that Madara and Hashirama favored it, the Uchiha calling for a vote on the territory was a natural way to score favorable clout, especially after making somewhat of a scene early on.
“Placing a favorable ticket on the table is sure to ease some of the tensions in the room in a way that still allows Madara to take charge,” Tobirama told you. “Most of the people around the table will have been allies of the Senju, but even those not affiliated with us would appreciate an act of goodwill by the Uchiha.”
“The vote should apply to the allotment of territory,” Madara asserted.
Your gaze immediately shot to him.
Hashirama glanced to the side, then back to Madara.
“If I understand you correctly—”
Tobirama was watching on stoically.
“I told you so,” the voice in your head resounded.
”Oh, shut up!”
All discussion around the table stopped. Tobirama’s eyes locked onto yours, his brows rising in acute shock. It took a few blinks for you to snap out of it before you realized it wasn’t just Tobirama staring. Your voice had bounced off the walls, letting your words ring across the room.
Hashirama let out a jovial laugh, sitting back in his chair with crossed arms. He seemed to be about the only one who looked anything resembling amused.
“What a way to celebrate tradition!” he chuckled before gesturing across the table with an upward-facing palm.
“Hashirama, you cannot be serious,” Hyūga pouted.
“It is tradition…” Hagoromo agreed, a hand stroking his long beard. He also gestured toward the open primary seat next to Madara, nodding. “Sit, child.”
Your gaze darted around the room, only feeling more panicked at the idea that everyone except for you seemed to understand the situation at hand.
“Me?” you gestured to yourself.
“The first member of a clan to speak pulls up a chair to join their clan head.” Mito took pity on you with a gracious nod. “It is the tradition of the primary: that one so heated may have their voice heard at the table.”
It was a generations-long tradition that you had never heard of. After all, Uchiha women had never participated in clan politics prior.
Despite the back and forth at the table, Madara said nothing. You looked to him, your clan head, for guidance. He did not look at you, remaining deathly silent where he sat. You weren’t the most adept at sensing chakra, but even you could feel the dark aura radiating from him.
“Madara,” you called tentatively.
He didn’t answer. You immediately dropped to your knees, assuming a deep bow. His words weighed heavily on your mind.
Give me your word that you will hush your tongue. It is paramount that none of the Uchiha, except for the clan head, speaks at this gathering.
”I cannot offer a greater apology,” you pleaded, face nearly buried in the floor. You held your low bow, even as he spoke your name in a low growl.
Madara slowly rose from his chair, the legs dragging on the carpet somewhere above your head. You couldn’t see Hashirama also begin to rise, an expression of concern washing over him.
“Madara, my friend, please sit,” he emplored calmly.
“You have disrespected the name of Uchiha,” Madara grumbled. His voice wasn’t loud, nor forceful, but resigned. It was a statement, as if he were reading it off a sign. Informative.
You remained bowed.
“Up,” Madara demanded. The very word shook, making you flinch. You rose to your feet in obedience, your eyes wide in panic.
“I did not know,” you defended, hands raised to your chest. “I do not need a seat at the table. It was not my aim—”
Madara took a step toward you, hitching the sleeve of his robe over his shoulder. His now bare right arm flexed as he moved.
“You have never known your place…”
It all happened instantaneously. Madara’s hand rose, and the next moment, your back met the solid wooden beam on the far side of the room.
The impact knocked the air from your lungs before you fell to the ground.
Tobirama stood before Madara, blocking his strike with his wrist. The sheer impact of the two blew away most fixtures in the room that weren’t disturbed by the momentum of Tobirama’s flash-step— including you.
You thought you were seeing things.
Madara’s eyes narrowed, sharingan ignited as he stared into Tobirama’s red eyes.
“You tread on dangerous territory by inserting yourself into Uchiha clan affairs,” he growled. Madara continued to apply tension and force to his arm, still locked with Tobirama in a contest of strength.
“This is a place of diplomacy,” Tobirama spat, far more aware than Madara of the clan leaders and followers who waited on edge and ready to defend themselves. “I believe it is in the best interest of us all if we discuss political matters at a later date.”
All you remembered was the sight of Tobirama’s broad back before you passed out.
***
Hashirama could fix anything. At least, that’s what it seemed. He was the one who dismissed the council for the day, and his promises that this whole situation would be resolved felt like they held weight.
Hashirama was the only man in that room who Madara would have let hold you like he did. He almost cradled you in the crook of his arm, his hand resting over your head as healing chakra glowed from his palm. With swiftness, the bit of blood that had dripped from your nose retreated back up your nostril.
Only Hashirama, Madara, and Tobirama remained in the trashed meeting room. The walls were made of paper, after all, and the force of Tobirama simply blocking Madara’s blow was enough to disrupt their integrity.
“She should be alright,” Hashirama said. “Just hit her head.”
Madara turned, swiftly grabbing the front of Tobirama’s robes. He pushed him, attempting to slam him against an adjacent wooden beam, but Tobirama remained sturdy. His hands shot to Madara’s grip, keeping him at a distance with barely held restraint.
“This is your fault,” Madara roared, spit flying from his lip. “Do you have any idea how fragile an Uchiha woman is?”
Tobirama kept a firm enough grip on Madara’s hands to keep him at bay, his arms hardly even straining despite the immense force being pushed upon him. He took a steady breath in, using the air to fuel his level composure.
“Cries the man about to strike her,” he gritted, scowling with disgust.
“What is it to you?” Madara barked. Hashirama wasted no time coming between them, swiftly shoving Tobirama and Madara apart. Madara continued, pushing against the firm hand that Hashirama laid on his chest. “What is it to you how I discipline her?”
“With that force, you would have killed her,” Tobirama spat, applying distance between himself and the raging Madara.
“Now is hardly the time for fighting!” Hashirama asserted, now using two hands to shove Madara back.
Madara stumbled, seeming to take little insult with how he was handled. He brooded, still staring Tobirama down.
“You are no Uchiha,” Madara snarled, circumventing Hashirama to point a finger at Tobirama’s face. “I understand how much force to use to discipline my woman. I know how much she can take. I know she does not need you to interfere.”
Hashirama placed himself in front of his brother, eclipsing him in Madara’s line of sight. It was like dealing with a wild animal, getting it to focus on one thing at a time.
“Madara.”
Madara met Hashirama’s eye.
“Hashirama—”
“She should see a physician,” Hashirama asserted, glancing at where you lay just out of the way.
You would be fine. Between Hashirama’s healing jutsu, which took care of your bruising, and a little rest, Hashirama wasn’t concerned. It was apparent, however, that you were not a combatant. The flaring of Madara and Tobirama’s chakra alone was enough to make you pass out.
Madara continued to stare, his gaze boring into Hashirama’s brown eyes. But he ultimately conceded, backing up a step as he heaved a heavy sigh. Hashirama eyed him warily.
“Do you consent to me taking her?”
“Do what you must.”
Madara stormed out of the room.
***
When you came to, it was in a warm room. A large window covered in a paper curtain sat on the wall you faced, dispersing the light that came through. A small table sat next to the simple cot you laid on. A vase of simple flowers was displayed on its surface.
You slowly sat up.
“She said you would be a bit sore.”
Your eyes snapped up. Even for his size, you hardly noticed Tobirama sitting in the corner of the small room. He sat, arms crossed, on a simple chair just within arms reach of the end corner of your cot. The door was to his right, and just to his left was another window. Unlike the window next to you, it cast a harsh yellow light onto Tobirama’s pale skin. He met your gaze before glancing elsewhere.
“You have never been exposed to that much chakra before, so she also said your network might feel a little off for a while.”
“Who?” When you spoke, it felt like you were using your voice for the first time in ages. Your tongue peeled off the roof of your mouth. It felt uncomfortably dry.
“The physician who examined you,” Tobirama answered, still looking elsewhere. “You hit your head, although my brother was far more concerned about your disrupted chakra network.”
You didn’t say anything in response, and Tobirama’s hesitancy to speak more hung in the air like a thick, palpable cloud. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers knitted together. One of his legs bounced, making him shake. Although, he seemed oblivious to the movement.
“Did you bring me here?” you asked.
The room was cast in a warm, orange glow. However, the window behind Tobirama continued to radiate harsh light onto him. He was as pale as when you were young, you considered. His complexion had always been cold, from his white hair to his red eyes. Even his clothing was a deep blue. The way the sun glared at him made him difficult to look at.
“Hashirama handled you if that puts your mind at ease.”
“I was not asking a question with hidden meaning,” you assured, but the room still went silent again. You glanced to the left, observing an intricate wooden cabinet. The doors boasted glass windows filled with medicines, powders, and dried herbs. “And Madara let this happen?”
You turned your attention back to Tobirama. He avoided your eye.
“Madara was too enraged to bark orders,” Tobirama seemed to mutter bitterly.
The atmosphere settled stiffly, and you felt it would continue doing so.
“You like him far less than Hashirama seems to,” you said with an acute smile.
Tobirama scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “What is there to like?”
Something about the way he spoke made you laugh. Perhaps it was the slight pout that tugged at his lower lip or how he sat in the direct sun as the beams hit him awkwardly. You shrugged, glancing down at the white sheets weaved between your fingers.
“He is… a bit boorish,” you giggled before your smile slowly faded. You appeared lost as you stared at the white fabric in your hands. “But he does care a great deal.”
“He does, does he?” Tobirama’s brows bounced in acute amusement. He, too, looked down at his lap. His lips parted as if he were about to speak, but he stalled. A strangled noise tore from his throat and into the thick silence. “Does he care a great deal when he lays hand to you?” he asked, somewhere between tentative and confident, if such a tone existed. Tobirama glanced up to meet your gaze. “He does so often, yes?”
You scoffed, averting your gaze in acute shock.
“Why should you care?” you huffed. You curled your legs up under your sheets, your knees facing the medicine hutch. “Did you not do the same?”
Tobirama’s brows bounced again.
“I did not assert that I did not, although I can claim with confidence that it will not happen again,” he said, something almost resembling amusement written across his face.
“Men and your lies,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. You shifted on your cot, back pressed against the wall behind you. You brought one knee up toward your chest, wrapping your arms around it. The white sheet continued to drape your lap.
“Nay, you can believe my words true.” He leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling with a shrug. The corner of his lip dipped. “I have already been blackmailed into political subservience. I shudder to think of what other cruelty you could inflict upon me.”
“Aye, how you ever gained a reputation of stoicism is beyond me.” You rolled your eyes again.
Tobirama crossed an ankle over his opposite knee, sinking just a fraction deeper into his seat.
“I am almost certain you have an array of poisons in your arsenal that would pack quite the punch,” he continued, but you didn’t humor him with a response. Your silence caused him to sit back up, shifting in his seat. “I am human. I have the capacity to jest.”
“I will take you at your word.” You shook your head slowly.
You peeled your sheets to the side, swinging your legs off the side of the cot. Tobirama said nothing as you stood to face the medicine cabinet. You opened both doors, spending no time before rifling through the Senju remedies.
No one knew how long discussions would take— although they would end up taking several weeks before their conclusion— but despite the unknown timeline, you couldn’t help but consider the Senju were thoroughly prepared to treat the unwell. You sifted through the selection, taking note of the herbs you were familiar with before restoring the bottles to the locations you found them in. Perhaps this wasn’t even the entirety of the Senju medical supply, but just the stock for one room. One room of how many, you wondered.
“You showed me those…” Tobirama’s voice cut through the room. You shuddered, taken off guard by the sound of him. You still weren’t used to his voice. It was deep and almost forceful in the way it took up space.
Your head swiveled, your mind slow to register what Tobirama was talking about in your nosy sifting. You felt silly when you looked down at the glass jar in your hand.
Flos Purus.
“... a long time ago.”
The buds in the jar were preserved with sand, and the petals were more intact than you had ever seen them after handling. They were shriveled and dry but ideally kept.
“I thought you would rather let your anger take you than speak about the past.” You turned toward Tobirama, the jar still in your grasp.
He sat the same way: arms crossed, ankle slung over his knee, and acutely sat back. The sunlight cut him diagonally, slicing from his left shoulder down to the floor.
“I told you—” he started with a slow nod. —“You can consider my word true.”
You scoffed, glancing him over.
“We will see,” you hummed, facing the cabinet again. You gingerly placed the preserved purity flowers back in their place, your touch lingering on them as you traced the side of the bottle.
You took a step back to sit on the edge of your cot, clutching a large vial of some sort of liquid anesthetic in your hands. Queasiness suddenly found you, dropping a pit of overwhelming nausea to your core. It felt like a punch to the gut and a terrible hangover. Tobirama claiming that your chakra network would feel off was an understatement.
“You have grown quite strong over these years, it would seem,” you mused. You laid back, bisecting the cot horizontally as your eyes scrunched closed. The large bottle still sat cradled in your arms like a child’s plush. “It finally hits me. Your chakra output alone is potent enough to fell a bear.”
You held the back of your hand to your mouth, fighting the dizzy, sickly feeling in your stomach. If this was only the residual shocks of Tobirama blocking one measly slap, you hoped with all your being that war would never break out again.
”How do you think I am able to adorn myself with so many furs?” Tobirama jested dryly, his voice barely a self-amused mumble.
You turned your head to look up at him, your cheek still pressed against the now messy sheets of the cot. You couldn’t have looked very attractive with your scrunched-up face and disheveled appearance.
“You seem in particularly high spirits compared to some of our most recent interactions,” you frowned. “Were you so eager to pick a fight with Madara?”
“Nay, I cannot say I was itching to exchange blows with him during peace negotiations, of all things.” You hardly noticed the way his frame tensed. Tobirama sat up a bit taller. His arms remained tightly coiled over his chest.
But his words gave you a slight pause.
“Then why did you?” you asked. The curious smile on your lips faltered as your brain ran through the numerous answers he could give. You almost sensed that you knew the answer but vehemently refused to consider the thought. Tobirama met your gaze, and if you didn’t know any better, you might have considered that he had the same thought as you.
Tobirama cleared his throat.
“You are a political ally, are you not?”
“Is Madara not?” you shot back, curious as to what he would say next. You stared up at the ceiling, both arms wrapped around the vial on your chest once again.
“It was instinct,” Tobirama affirmed, deflecting your question. “After many years on the battlefield, your body moves without thought.”
You hardly had to ask what he was talking about. You had seen it with your own eyes, a violent display of muscle memory.
“I see,” you hummed, your fingers absentmindedly brushing the skin of your neck. “And you stayed here for what?” You sat up, turning so your right thigh rested a little higher on the cot. You leaned back, your arm propping you up. “Because of battle instinct?” you scrutinized sarcastically.
“I am certain we could expect another war if the wife of Madara Uchiha grew injured or perished while under Senju care,” Tobirama breathed out a heavy stream of air, dreading the very thought.
You let out a loud, crude laugh. You turned to face Tobirama almost entirely, bringing your knee fully up onto the cot.
“The only Senju who has ever endangered me is you,” you scoffed, pointing toward him rudely. But any other criticism of his presence died on your tongue as his words took a moment to sink in. Your brow scrunched. “Did you call me the wife of Madara?”
Tobirama frowned.
“Are you not?”
“Heavens, no!” The very thought made you jump to your feet, the large vial still cradled in the crook of your elbow. You shook your head, almost as if the action would manually erase the thoughts from your mind. You turned to Tobirama, aghast. “Does everyone else consider me the wife of Madara?”
“At the very least, I assumed you were promised,” Tobirama stated matter of factly, brows bouncing on his forehead at the novel thought.
“By far, no,” you asserted again, furiously shaking your head. You spun with a gait that resembled a pace. You turned on your heel to face Tobirama, a deep pout on your lips. “I am not married, nor am I beholden to any man. In fact, I am sick of men altogether.”
“The dive into politics was quite the move then,” Tobirama muttered, turning his attention to the adjacent window.
“Oh hush,” you scolded, missing the way Tobirama’s eyes widened with amusement and his mouth contorted into a boyish smile. His tongue rubbed up against the gums of his right side jaw, halting his commentary as his chest did a single bounce.
You continued to pace the short room.
“You try getting thrown to the side by boorishly stubborn soldiers all day and see how you like it. I am sick of being struck by them! I am sick of how it does not seem to matter how hard I fight because none of it matters when you are a woman! All while none of you know what you are doing during the most high-stakes event of the century.”
When you finally looked up to gauge Tobirama’s expression, he was almost as stoic as usual. He was given away by his eyes, both of which were opened a sheer fraction wider than usual. The beams of sun that shone through the window only highlighted a fiery glint. His had eclipsed his prior expression almost entirely.
“Ayah, I speak to you as if you care,” you huffed, wanting nothing more than to do something with your hands.
Tobirama rose from his seat as you turned away to join you where you stood in front of the medicine hutch. He observed you for a moment, simply standing by your side as you busied yourself.
And in that moment, it was just the two of you. The room fell into a gentle silence with Tobirama at your side. He didn’t come too close but lingered within your periphery just far enough to dodge a scolding.
Light continued to flitter in through the two windows. Warm, dispersed light came from the one closest to your cot. Blinding, golden rays shone from the window next to Tobirama’s abandoned chair. It just barely hit the open cabinet door, sending a rainbow pattern to scatter across a corner of the room.
“Your situation is not the gravest,” he nodded. You didn’t say anything back, and he didn’t probe you for a response. He studied his reflection in the glass of the open cabinet door to his right, watching as the sunlight glinted and obstructed a part of his face. Tobirama glanced in your direction. “A woman… A man… Everyone has a say at the table. I cannot say it does not experience its fair share of verbal fisticuffs, but I hope it is somewhat of a comfort that you have the tools at your disposal to hold your own. No being thrown to the side unless you allow it.”
Tobirama’s hands clasped behind his back as he leaned slightly forward to position himself in your peripheral.
“Not that I mind,” he almost seemed to muse, “But I am unsure whether the medical staff would approve of you rearranging their stock.” It wasn’t until he said anything that you noticed your arm deep in the middle shelf of the collection of medicinal herbs.
You stopped just short of your fingers touching another vial, trying to hide your sheepishness as you retracted your hand. You avoided Tobirama’s gaze as you slowly shut the cabinet doors. The large bottle of anesthetic still rested in your opposite arm.
“I am taking this.”
Tobirama hummed, “I figured.”
You didn’t make a show of passing him as you made your way to the door. But as your hand grasped the handle, you didn’t look back to speak to him.
“I am certain I will see you soon… to sort all of this out.”
Tobirama gazed at the back of your head, standing exactly where you left him. You couldn’t see his slow, stately nod.
“Until then.”
***
It was soon night at the Uchiha compound, and with the events of the day weighing heavily on his mind, Tobirama retired himself to reading documents by lantern light. It was a full moon, and the clear night sky only served to compliment the blooming lotuses in Tobirama’s private courtyard.
Several important documents were laid out to dry around him, and despite the amount of ink that Tobirama had already gone through, not a drop marred his pale skin nor the sleeve of his robes. He was impatient, drawing out the night out of an inkling he’d hear something about the Uchiha clan.
It was undoubtedly a wrench in it all. Other clans surely wouldn’t take well to the consistent disruptions. Not to mention that the Uchiha presentation was half done, and Madara’s antics stalled the proposal of another clan. The negotiation room could be reconstructed with little effort, but the messy atmosphere couldn’t be remedied as easily.
And lastly, at the very end of Tobirama’s thoughts was you. Clearly, the matter of you was at the back of his mind and nowhere near the forefront. You were a political ally, now the primary, to the Uchiha clan. Tobirama deemed it acceptable to think about you in that context. His consideration of you was all business, as was his growing concern.
And so, when a presence came into his courtyard somewhere in the night, Tobirama assumed you had come to make good on your prediction: that you would see him soon to work through all the newly sprouted chaos.
“Expecting someone else?”
Tobirama knew it wasn’t you even before he slid open the door.
“I certainly cannot say I was expecting you, Madara.” Tobirama closed the door behind him as he stepped out onto the engawa. Madara stood on the ground below, arms crossed and shoulders squared. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I come bearing a warning,” Madara asserted, barely letting Tobirama finish speaking. He slowly grew closer. “About you sniffing around my clan.”
“You are mad. I do not have the slightest idea of what you speak.”
“I had thought to myself about the events that occurred earlier.”
Tobirama remained still, even as Madara appeared on the other side of the engawa. He lingered somewhere to the left, just outside of Tobirama’s peripheral. They were standing on the same plane, and yet Tobirama didn’t move to face him.
“I am no fool. I considered the few reasons you might run to my apothecary’s aid,” Madara gruffed, standing like a ghost in the partial moonlight. “A Senju man throwing himself in front of an Uchiha woman… It is unheard of… I can sense that something foul is occurring… and you best hope I never find out what it is.”
“Do not be paranoid and tarnish the good thing you and Hashirama have brought to this land. You know that you were far too rash.” Tobirama glanced to the side, but Madara had disappeared from where he stood. Tobirama expected as much. “You had your chance to avenge your brother,” he spoke, an assertive timber sprouting from his chest. “You have long relinquished your right to bitterness.”
“It is because of Izuna that I stand here… cautious.” The word was spoken directly into Tobirama’s ear, but even the closeness wasn’t enough to move him. He stood stone-faced and tall even as a shadowy aura loomed just behind him. “First, you come to our dwellings when you know I am away. Then, you put on such a public display of disrespect—”
“Know your bitterness toward me will not keep her from the negotiation table, no matter how sharply you protest. You know it to be true.” Tobirama managed to glance at Madara’s dark hair out of the corner of his eye. “Because this is what this is about. Is it not, Madara? You are not truly deranged to consider that Hashirama would allow foul play, even if you have declared me devilish.”
Tobirama’s eyes fluttered for less than a second. He blinked, and when his eyes opened, Madara stood before him. The moonlight silhouetted his frame hauntingly. His mass of unruly black hair only made his shadowed form appear larger. His large red eyes glowed, and he appeared to Tobirama like a big, brooding owl.
“You have done enough to disturb my family, Tobirama Senju. If you interfere with my business again, I will not hesitate to cut you down where you stand.” Madara muttered, eyes wide and a glowing crimson. “Hashirama be damned. The moment I catch wind of your scheme, I will gut you.”
Tobirama held no expression.
“No scheme, Madara,” he said.
Madara disappeared into the night.
“For your sake, there best not be.”
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
Notes: I know people don't read these notes, but thanks everyone for sticking with this story throughout the years, etc. I think I could have sat on this for another day, but I really wanted to get it out for everyone. I tried to make this chapter a bit softer if that's even close to the term--- simply something you could enjoy. For all the great reception I've gotten, I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I don't have a lot of confidence in this series, so I think it's wonderful that so many have really enjoyed it. That's enough from me. See you when the next chapter drops.
Tag list: @gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake @frvv @ritzes28
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Full chapter list: Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI
I know part of this chapter ladder is broken, but I don't know where. If you stumble upon it let me know.
Tumblr threw out an error message so I'm sending again in case it ate the ask:
How about missing their s/o for Tobirama or Madara? Do they consciously (or uncounciosly) seek out items or places that remind them of their partner? Do they throw themselves into work as distraction? Does it work? Do they feel a constant longing or does it hit them unexpectedly throughout the time their s/o is away?
a/n: Oh I like this one so I'm doing it now aha. It gives me cute ideas and angst ideas oops haha thanks for sending me in a request!
Characters: Tobirama Senju, Madara Uchiha
Tags: Fluff, mildly angsty (not a lot lol)
Tobirama Senju
The type to think he won't miss his s/o until they're gone and it kind of hits after a couple of days. Like it's about how you fit into his routine and all of a sudden you aren't there and now it's a huge hole in his life.
It starts in the morning when there's no one in his bed for him to latch onto to keep warm. He's quite literally left cold in an empty bed. And now he's started off the morning very grumpy.
Then there's breakfast which he usually eats with you. Either in a comfortable silence or discussing the agenda of the day. He's grown quite fond of hearing about your routine and opinions on things. But also sharing his own.
Before he knows it he's off doing things in the village with that empty feeling. Sure it's a distraction, discussing matters with his brother, going about his day but there's no warmth waiting for him when he gets home so whats it all for? He hates that he realises this too.
The fact that he's very conscious about it leaves him on edge. Like he's wearing his robes wrong and they're tight and itchy. He feels uncomfortable. When are you coming home again? Extra grouchy.
Coming home for dinner alone would be too much at this point. Agrees to his brothers tenth invitation this week to join his family for dinner. Says it's to finally get him to stop asking. Won't admit it's because he's A LITTLE BIT lonely. Damn you for showing him what it's like to have warmth in his home.
It's definitely a longing. He thinks. Even watching how his brother is at home with his family makes him miss you more. It's not the distraction he hoped, it's only made that hole bigger. Goes home even grumpier.
When he gets home he's actually mad at you for leaving. Even though it was something you had discussed and agreed upon. He's mad because how was he supposed to know it would feel like this? Now he's even more mad because he feels mad about it.
Just kind pours himself a cup of sake and indulges himself by sitting in your shared home seeking out your presence. Goes to bed early and sleeps on your side. It has your scent and it's the closest thing to your warmth he can get.
It's a damn miracle when you return the next morning. He's both a little grouchy and clingy (for Tobirama) on your return. He's basically like No more trips away. It's too dangerous. (For his heart.)
Madara Uchiha
Okay so he's more reluctant to let you go without him not in a you can't handle yourself level but rather he's just incredibly clingy doesn't want you to go lol.
Misses you right away. Notices your presence isn't there instantly. Especially in the village because you're his one saving grace in everything. The light in the darkness, so now that's gone and he's just kind of lost.
Bit of a hermit and stays home at first. Just doesn't want to leave anything to do with your presence but also in general doesn't like being in the village without you.
Big fan of sleeping in and staying in bed just remebering all the time the two of you spend relaxing there. Makes him sadder though so he has to get out of there and mope somewhere else.
Spends a lot of time hanging around the roof of his house watching the village and at the table where you share your meals just thinking. He's the kind of person to remember conversations and how he felt having them. Reminices trying to chase those moments and feelings.
Decides he's going to make more of them the moment you're back.
Eventually though he has to leave the house to get supplies like food and stuff. So he visits the market and the local vendors (the nicer ones) inquire after you and that makes him smile. He likes that you've made a home for yourself, with him.
And now he's missing you all over again. But he doesn't feel like he needs to stay in the house. He takes the usual route the two of you do around the village on your walks. Stops at the shops you like just because. Buys you things for when you return.
When he does return home he cooks your favourite food even though he's not even sure when you'll be back. It just makes him feel connected to you. It brings him back to life a bit.
Once Madara mopefest has completed and he's used to you being away he also manages to go see Hashirama who takes him out around the village.
He's honestly just thankful when you return because home felt so empty without you. Next time he wants to go with you. He doesn't like being left behind.
sanzu haruchiyo x f!reader { you're sanzu's one and only. }
18+ minors dni | murder, drug use, dark themes, rough sex, choking, toxic relationship, character death, bonten sanzu
a/n: sanzu's name { 三途 } is written the same as 三途の川 { sanzu-no-kawa, “river of three crossings” or “sanzu river” } which is the japanese buddhist version of the river styx.
sanzu doesn't call you his girlfriend. he'd never use such pedestrian language to describe what you are to him. soulmate is closer. but still, to take everything he felt about you and edit it down to a single word? it wouldn't be possible.
the best he could describe it is perhaps that you were made for him.
the day mikey introduced you to the other executives as bonten's newest advisor, sanzu stood in the back of the room, unconsciously biting his lip as he stared at your clean and crisp white tee shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks. your perfect skin. your shiny hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. your delicate hands. and the sharp glisten of your eyes. you looked so sincere.
a top scholar and graduate of the national university. your parents had been foreign diplomats. you spoke five languages. all this brilliance packaged neatly behind such a pretty face. oh, you were so perfect. so pristine. i'll make you regret playing with monsters, little princess. sanzu thought he couldn't wait to break you.
it didn't take him long to realize how wrong he was.
he'd stare at your hands, the ones he thought were so delicate, as they beat mercilessly into the skull of a traitor that lay limp beneath you. being a bonten advisor meant you never needed to get your hands dirty. but you didn't mind. and sanzu felt a trickling heat of excitement shimmy up his spine watching the blood splatter across your perfect skin, staining your clean shirt.
he'd listen in awe in the war room as your fingertips traced gracefully over blueprints of the city, and you'd describe plans for a new building downtown. a new shell business to run money through. a merger with a smaller, weaker gang simply as a means to procure disposable foot soldiers for mikey.
on one particular night, he'd sat back and watched you, transfixed, as he pulled the car up beside a dark tinted suv at a stoplight on a deserted street on the outskirts of shinjuku. you'd pointed your gun out the open window, so fast and precise on the trigger, taking out all the passengers in the car. he would've missed the shots with a single blink.
he couldn't recall all the details of the rest of that night. but he woke to find you in his bed the next morning, your naked body tucked comfortably under his sheets beside him.
his head pounded and he tried to remember what happened but all that he could recall were a series of blurred images. of the two of you leaving the war room together after receiving orders from mikey to take out the heads of a rival gang. a vision of your bare thighs, exposed under a short, plaid skirt as you sat in his passenger seat, and the quiet rattle as you attached a silencer to the end of your gun.
he remembered the sound of indistinct chatter and an image of you sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. a vague recollection of a bottle of scotch, of him staring at himself in the restaurant's bathroom mirror as he wiped some white residue from his upper lip. of you, bent over the sink with a straw in your nose. a blurred reel of your legs wrapped around his waist, of him pushing you up against the mirror so hard the glass cracked and you moaned into his open mouth. you sounded as sweet as you tasted.
in the grey winter light here in his bed, he looked at the blotches of blue and purple bruises that lined your neck and chest. at the edge of your perfect lips, a little swollen and the skin a little cracked. at the indentation of teeth marks on your shoulder, red with coagulated blood under the surface.
your eyes fluttered open and for a moment he was afraid. afraid that the cold light of day would be too harsh for you. afraid that all that was mystifying and beautiful in the night would be destroyed by the light. afraid you would leave.
but you'd looked into his eyes for a moment, and your lashes fell closed and you'd snuggled into his side, languidly dragging your arm across his chest.
let's sleep a little more, my head hurts and we still have at least another hour before we have to go meet the others.
oh, your voice sounded so sweet, still raspy with sleep, a lullaby to his ears.
as bonten leaders, he knew a relationship with you was strictly forbidden. he knew what mikey would do if he or any of the others ever found out. and he knew you knew too.
but you simply shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your clothes that were scattered across the floor of his bedroom. like you knew what he was thinking, and said i'm not afraid of them. are you?
he'd laughed at himself them. just who was corrupting who? he wondered.
the time he had with you began to envelope his heart. and the love he felt for you; small, crackling embers at first, had grown into a fire so bright and wild and twisted it could not be extinguished.
you were his partner; his chosen one. he loved the way your knuckles looked when they were bruised and red; such a beautiful contrast against your delicate and soft skin. he loved the way your fingers graced the handle of your gun, the dead calm of your eyes when you pulled the trigger. he was intoxicated with the knowledge that you were watching every time he carried out his duty as executioner.
his infatuation with you burned in his chest when he'd glance up at you, standing in the distance, eyes fixed on him and you'd slowly drag the palm of your hand up your thigh; testing his willpower to not pin you to the ground and tear you apart right then and there in front of his men.
under the cover of darkness, the two of you came alive. going on sprees, speeding through the bright streets of tokyo, the lights around you a blurred spectral of color to your bloodshot, medicated eyes.
in the midnight hours, your bodies would be intertwined, and in your arms he found a sanctuary. your body was the most addicting drug of all. you made all the pain disappear.
the quiet hours of the early morning, when time teetered on the edge of night and day, he'd lay on your chest, and for just a little while, his world would fall quiet. the air around him felt still. he would be coming down from his high, and he could feel everything. but he didn't mind. these small hours of lucidity shone brilliantly in his mind. when he could hear your breathing. feel your heartbeat so vividly beneath your bones. smell the lingering and sweet scent of your skin on his.
he'd become so possessed by you, so possessive of you that one night when he had you laid out beneath him, your legs spread wide for him, and he thought you looked so beautiful like this. so perfect like this for him. your skin, slick with a layer of sweat, luminescent in the moonlight. your lips, parted and choking out shaky pleas for him, begging him not to stop.
he buried himself so deep inside you, nails clawing into your skin, so desperate to be one with you. and he thought no one, no one else would have you like this. he was so intoxicated by the medley of pills in his system, completely unhinged in the euphoria of being inside you, he'd reached for his gun on the nightstand and held it to your forehead, point blank between your eyes.
you didn't even flinch. he watched you knock the gun from his hands, and slide your fingers up his wrists, and pulled his hands to your neck, letting him wrap them around your throat. if you're gonna kill me, do it with your own hands, you'd said.
god, he loved you so much. he wanted you so much, he needed you so much. he'd closed his hands around your neck with the gentlest force and watched your eyes roll back.
say my name, he'd command. and when you did, he closed his hands more forcefully around your delicate neck so he could feel the vibration in your throat as you choked out his name over and over. you'd clenched down so tight around him and he came harder than he ever had, collapsing into you.
he'd slowly let go of you, chest heaving, and gently caress at the skin of your neck, red and starting to bruise.
y/n...if i died, would you die with me? he'd whisper into your skin.
mmh, yeah. you'd whisper back.
i don't want anyone else to have you. i want you to be mine forever. he'd kiss the corner of your lips.
he'd feel your fingers laced up into his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him close.
what am i going to do with you...i might really kill you one of these days.
he'd lift his head to look at you. and your expression didn't change a bit. your eyes held the same resolve they always did, and you said, then i'll wait for you by the sanzu river.
this was what flashed through his mind when he walked into one of bonten's warehouses late one evening for a meeting of the executives, and he saw all of them standing in a circle around you, bound and tied, blood streaming from your hairline, your bruised body limp on the concrete.
he fell to his knees then, watching mikey shove the end of his gun against your temple.
did you think i wouldn't find out? mikey's thumb clicked down on the hammer.
he saw your eyes flutter open and find his. you smiled.
the muzzle flash was bright, and the shot rang through the dark, open space.
he stared at the blood pooling from the side of your head into the dust. he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. shit, am i really crying right now? he laughed at himself.
WHO ARE YOU LOYAL TO, SANZU?! mikey demanded.
i'll wait for you by the sanzu river. your words echoed in his mind.
mikey may have been his king. but you were the redeemer, his messiah, his salvation.
the choice was simple.
he pulled his own gun from its holster and held it up to his temple.
→ Tokyo Revengers x fem!reader ft Draken x fem!reader x Hanma
Genre: Angst, slow burn 18+
Warning:!MANGA SPOILERS! Extreme language, sexual themes, drugs/substance abuse, violence, character death. Mentions of depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, and psychological/physical abuse. My aim for this piece is to be dark and will be geared towards a mature audience 18+. Reader’s discretion is advised.
Notes: Hey guys! if you would like to be added to the taglist for Toman’s Wrath please find the taglist post within the series masterlist and comment under there. This way I wont lose people who asked to be included under a million notifications. Also, as mentioned in my previous post, I just started uni and don’t have wifi at my new place so it might take me longer to post updates. Hope you guys understand ♥️
Anyways! Enjoy and good luck to anyone else starting school!
WC: 6k
Series Masterlist, Ch.8
Previously:
“Are you glad I’m still here?” You reached up, pressing your hands to Shu’s chest, sliding it up and around his shoulders.
“Never doubted you would be,” he pulled you in, fingers digging into your hips as you studied his eyes, seeing nothing but honesty behind them.
prompt: losing and finding yourself again, all because of sanzu haruchiyo.
pairings: sanzu haruchiyo x fem reader
word count: 1233
warnings: angst, toxic relationship and all that shit! it’s my first time writing sanzu so probably ooc. not proofread so you alr know. 👆 also i focused so much on the reader and their feelings. yes it’s inspired by exile a bit. i also don’t know why the title is that lame, i just can’t think of any </3
also i’m posting it again bc i didn’t see myself on the tags earlier lmao
from the very beginning, you were already aware of what goes together with loving akashi haruchiyo. you knew what kind of person he is, what consequences might befall on you in the long run, and what are the things you would rarely to never receive from sanzu. the name sanzu is always followed by the words ‘murder’ and ‘drugs’. he’s a risky person to have around, but you love every second of it.
on the rare occasions that you are a part of sanzu’s priorities, it’s only during the times he needs relief or if he’s under the influence, yet you always accept everything he has to offer, even if there’s hardly any. sanzu is not well versed in trivial things such as love, hell, he’s not even capable of being committed to anyone else other than mikey and bonten. he’s loyal but never to you because you have always been his last priority while for you, sanzu is second to none.
cw: minors dnfi, baji’s a difficult boyfriend to have, this is pretty vanilla sex tbh but lots of feelings uwu, wc 1.9k
a/n: for @shigarakistomura’s songfic collab event! anyway i love baji too fucking much.
please stream 505 by Artic Monkeys
“Next time go to a hospital or urgent care or something. Stop coming here.”
The words coming out of your mouth are muffled by the roll of cloth bandage that you keep between your lips as you tend to the nasty gash along the length of Baji’s forearm. You consider that he might need stitches for a piece of work like that at first, but as you clean the wound, you figure it’s probably fine.
Maybe you’re cavalier because you’ve just been woken up out of bed by his phone call only to get to the door and see your ex, many times over, standing at your doorstep. You’d considered not opening the door, but the way he held his arm in mild discomfort gave you pause, and you’d let him in.
So here you were, tending to his injuries, thankful that there weren’t many despite everything. He’s looked much worse before.
“I prefer your hands,” he murmurs in the silence between you two.
You hate the fact that those very hands freeze for a moment before you scoff and secure the bandage tightly, then sit back on your haunches. He’s sitting on a chair in your kitchen, and you’ve squatted before him to better examine his wound; the kitchen light is bright enough to nearly blind you when you look up at him at this angle, brown eyes expectant as he waits for you to respond to his statement.
Your heart is stirring once again for him. You can’t fall for his tricks again.
request — Babeee can you write for mikey draken baji and whoever you want to add, them cheating on y/n and she finds out? Thank youuuuuu
notes — this is actually really half assed only because i hate writing crybaby reader so.. but + f! reader implied? i think. + angst
characters — mikey + draken + baji
✿ — manjiro “ mikey “ sano
your heart clenched, almost like it was crushing your organ and pausing all blood flow— not allowing a single breath to enter into your lungs. your eyes welled up with tears when you watched mikey lean into another girl, locking lips with her.
you choked out a quiet sob, whimpering at the ache that now sits in your chest but it wasn’t quiet enough. mikey turned to the noise and his eyes enlarged at the sight of you.
his breath hitched, “ y/n— “
“ you’re dead to me, sano. “ you hissed, turning away to get away as you started to wipe the frustrating tears that started to leak down your cheeks but he winced at the sound of name.
he wanted to reach out but he did this to himself— so he let you walk.
✿ — ken “ draken “ ryuguji
you giggled into the kiss, feeling draken smile against your lips as his arms tightened around your waist. you pull away to reach for his neck and there it was, fresh hickeys adorning his neck.
“ draken... “ you whispered out, not believing your eyes but at this point— why would you believe him?
you backed up, forcing yourself out of his hold when he would tighten his grip on you. he raised an eyebrow, about to question your actions but when your hand flew to your neck, it hit him— you found out.
“ i can explain. “
“ no need, we’re done. “
draken watched you exit his room, ache finally settling in but he didn’t ask for it to go away— he did deserve it. just like how you deserve someone else, someone who wasn't like him.
✿ — keisuke baji
you were on the sidelines as he attended the toman meeting. baji would glance over at you every chance he had, snickering when you would have a flushed expression.
as you sighed, having him finally pay attention to mikey. some girl stood beside you, smiling at the members as asked, “ waiting on your boyfriend? “
you smiled to yourself, “ ah yeah, what about you? “
“ mhm! “
you both chatted until the meeting ended, she waved at you as she parted away from you. you held your eyes, curious to who her boyfriend was but she ran straight to baji— locking lips with him.
“ i told you not to come here. “ “ i wanted to surprise you. “
baji glanced over at you but you were already gone. curiosity killed the cat— the cat being your relationship.
note — angst + yandere vibes from sanzu + manga spoilers
characters — draken + mikey + ran + sanzu
✿ — ken “ draken “ ryuguji
he couldn’t blame you— you had every right to find someone new and smile brightly at them as they made you happy. it wasn’t like the break up was your fault, it was his.
just because he couldn’t seem to move on from emma and you couldn’t be some sort of replacement or second choice to his heart.
so if he was so in love with emma, why was he now feeling distraught by seeing you across the street with your new boyfriend? his hands on your hips with yours placed onto his chest, beaming up at him as you spoke about something excitedly.
the same way you used to react when you would speak about the new volume that you had ordered or when you would speak fondly about him.
his chest clenched at the memories of you and him but no, he was the one that drove you away— he chose to let you go with the thought that he loved someone who was six feet in the ground over you.
he does hold love for emma but for a second— you were just about to pass her, letting him move on but you couldn’t wait, he understood.
so he smiles to himself, continuing to walk to his destination with your smile engraved in his head.
✿ — manjiro “ mikey “ sano
mikey had left everyone abruptly two years ago, no one knew where he could be found— including you. so in the late hours of the night, he was on his bike with a dark hoodie over his head.
hearing a familiar laugh, his whole body tensed up and his head cocked towards the direction and saw you. a smile adorning your face and a new guy beside you, for a moment he had wanted to get off his bike and snatch you away.
to hide you away with him.
but you didn’t belong in his world, your innocence was something that shouldn’t be corrupt especially with how he’s changing within every second. his eyes fixture forwards, watching you cross the street with the guy and he swore he saw you catch his eye.
your eyes widened, staring into his but you turned away, feigning a smile at the new boy besides you.
maybe you did see him but he wanted you to run towards him to make sure it was him so you weren’t questioning your sanity. but why would you chase after him?
he was the one that left you.
✿ — ran haitani
he was out, walking towards the hideout with everyone waiting for him. his stoic gaze onto everyone who passed by him except you, who was going the same way as him.
“ following me? “
you get startled by the voice, only realizing that you were lost in thought and softened at the sight of ran. “ who knows, maybe i just got so bored and decided to follow my ex. “ you joked, earning a smile from the elder haitani.
but you shook your head after, “ no, i’m going to meet someone actually. let me guess, “ you studied his appearance from head to toe to next point out his uniform, “ meeting? “
“ you should know by now, you would follow me to these meetings back then. “ ran teased, surprised that you were even holding a conversation for so long already without it being awkward which gave him some slight hope.
“ yeah cause being with you made me feel so alive. “ you laughed, turning your eyes away from him with a small content smile on your face, “ didn’t know the moment you’d leave me would make me feel so.. dead. “
his heart clenched at your words, not expecting them to make him feel much but here he was. his eyes saddened down at you but you shake your head, “ it’s boring— i’ll admit but i’m content. “
before ran could respond, he noticed something shiny from the corner of his eyes and there it was— a ring adoring your finger.
✿ — sanzu haruchiyo
he laughed bitterly, not believing the relationship that you were currently in as you sat far from him at the club with your boyfriend. watching you order drinks with your boyfriend pressing behind you.
he didn’t believe you truly moved on, nor actually thought you’d hold out this long with this man when he heard about it.
his stomach is churning, making him want to vomit but instead he’s wearing a scowl. anyone who saw him would believe that this man was planning his next murder and who knows— maybe they were right.
did you deserve to be happy? yes. with another man? no.
sanzu drank his drink in one swallow, slamming the glass back down then waved the bartender over with a finger— immediate fear to not oblige from the employee.
“ see that guy? behind the girl at the far end, [hair color and style]? get his name and bring it over. “ he voiced an order, definitely giving a threatening tone that if he didn’t do it well.. he’d need two names then.
the bartender nodded his head, rushing over to you and your boyfriend. now behind you, the guy pulling out his ID to reveal his age and name as if it was a regular alcohol ID check.
sanzu was now sparing a bittersweet smile— thinking of ways to get rid of your new boyfriend.
→ Tokyo Revengers x fem!reader ft Draken x fem!reader x Hanma
Genre: Angst, slow burn 18+
Warning:!MANGA SPOILERS! Extreme language, sexual themes, drugs/substance abuse, violence, character death. Mentions of depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, and psychological/physical abuse. My aim for this piece is to be dark and will be geared towards a mature audience 18+. Reader’s discretion is advised.
Notes: Hey guys! I seriously recommend y’all listen to Black Out Days by Phantogram specifically the slowed down version while reading this chapter. I wrote this listening to it on repeat lolz. (The slowed down version is on SoundCloud btw). Anyways, enjoy ♥️
an: drabbles of you w// needy boys <3 (some ur needy also) <3
-ˏˋ mikey— needy to touch you
your boyfriend was feeling very deprived today, following you around the house with his fingers tugging on your arm sleeve and sitting down with you he kept a warm hand on your thigh. he started creeping his hand closer down to your heat. but your eyes stayed glued to the tv screen, pigments of the show flashing in your eyes—his dick strained hard against his shorts, the slightest relief snagged from him when you moved away. he tried to hold back but it was just so hard—the way your lips wrapped around your fingers eating the popcorn, your chest jiggling when you started to laugh, he couldn’t handle this torture. “i’m so hard, please touch me” mikey leans over to your ear, coating your shell with his hot breath, his fingers lined over your waistband “make me feel good please, only you can do it baby” he begs, snapping at the fabric, his needy whines ringing in your ear. he’s already a whimpering mess, his dick so hard he thinks it could explode, only thinking about how good you’d make him feel bouncing on his cock. “baby please, fuck me” he cries, pulling at his dick—how angry it looks leaking pre-cum and the taste already swirling on your tongue watching it drip out from the reddened tip. your hands push away your clothes and without hesitation sink down on mikey’s length, an audible gasp rips from his lungs at the stretch he has on your tight hole. “f—fuck, so good baby—wanna cum already” he starts pounding in you, running his fingers across your skin, kissing and licking at the flesh. so needy with hands built around you as he cums straight in your messy cunt.
-ˏˋ draken— needy to fuck you hard
draken is rough, manhandling you onto the bed—kissing so hard teeth rake against another, his hands ripping your clothes off and smashing his hot bare body against yours. the mattress groans feeling two weights pound onto the bed, his body already on yours—his hands pinning your legs to your stomach “been wanting this pussy all day” he spits through gritted teeth, your toes curling around his face when he finally sinks in your cunt, his mouth hung agape at the warm stretch around his fat cock. his hands reach for the headboard, towering his face over yours as he uses the wood for leverage to pound into your cunt so ruthlessly. your eyes roll in the back of your skull at the mess he’s making, pounding harder and faster. the wood starts to creak while he drives faster in you, begs slip through your lips at his strokes—deep and needy, wanting to savor the feel of how much you can take this hard pounding. “gonna—ah, gonna cum so deep in you” draken stutters out, knowing your orgasm is starting to rise through your bones, the uncontrollable twitch your legs knock on his face, he’s almost there with you—moaning at the feel of your cunt sucking him in until the headboard snaps, timbering down behind the wall. but draken doesn’t stop, he needs you now—fuck you so hard you don’t remember the busted headboard behind you.
-ˏˋ baji—needy for you after a fight
he didn’t mean to yell at you so loud, his voice shaking the house leaving you a trembling mess. baji thought if he yelled enough you’d understand this time—he was wrong, watching your body sniffle and quake under the covers. he was tempted to rip the sheets off and tackle you with kisses but he’s trying to stay calm since he did make you cry. “m’sorry baby, didn’t mean to yell so loud at you” you suck your tears up and peek over the covers, he was sincere, lip tightly sewed shut sucking up his pride he had to say sorry “don’t like seeing my pretty girl cry” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple—you melt into his touch, getting up from your position to wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to feel his lips again. it’s a need from him, the want of saying he was sorry baji pulls away from your kiss “let me make it up to you, okay pretty baby?” you hum in reply, letting him take off every single piece of clothing on your body, remembering to kiss the skin left bare. he lays you down gently on the bed, your back meeting the soft sheets while baji takes his clothes off, almost giving you a show. “gonna make you feel good, cum around my cock as many times as you want baby” he throws your legs over his hips, circling the tip of his dick around your clit. your head throws back in the pillows for an escape of the teasing, water streaming your vision “sorry sorry, this is about you tonight baby, i’ll stop teasin’” he chuckles, slowly entering himself in you—baji hisses at the stretch, the warmth of your cunt engulfing him. your face resigns in his neck, sucking and kissing bruises to the skin while baji lifts your legs higher to fuck you deeper. “have i ever told you how much i love you?” he whispers, moving at a deep slow stroke “i couldn’t live without you” your eyes water at the words but also from the ripples of your starting orgasm. he’s needing everything you have, deep pounds with still motions to feel your heat, the need of you after hurting you made baji want to do this over and over until you never cried again.
-ˏˋ chifuyu— needy to have you in the morning
he watches your body sleep peacefully beside him, subtle twitches in deep slumber and tiny whimpers from your lips if he listens hard enough. something about the way your chest rises up and down has chifuyu a little hard, though his morning wood is usually hard—this was just painful. he scoots closer to you, using your stomach to pull you flush with his bare chest, his lips ghosting over your neck “good morning pretty girl” he hums, running the soft skin on your stomach “how did you sleep?” he continues the motion, running his fingers around your soft skin occasionally getting lower towards your waistband. you whisper back a short reply, a little too caught up in chifuyu’s hands tracking his touch down into your shorts, a small moan from you lets him know he can go further. “need you right now, m’so hard baby” you should know that, he’s been running his stiff dick on your back, practically dry humping your shirt. “wanna—wanna” he stops his words, feeling the wetness swirling around in your slit, his fingers hungrily dipping in your core—he acts like he’s deprived, sinking two fingers in while you rock your ass on him, his fingers getting messy as he starts a rhythm inside of you—whines and pleas drive him to move faster until your toes start to curl and he can feel the shivers on your spine. “that’s right baby, cum—let go” words drifting in your ear as the white clouds your vision, his fingers are drenched, popping them in his mouth to enjoy you a little longer. he needs you this morning, to feel your cunt suck his fingers in, impatient to strip naked and crawl on top of you, and needy to be inside of you, now.
-ˏˋ smiley—needy to watch you get off on him
“if you want this, gotta work for it” smiley snickers from his spot propped up on pillows, fanning his cock in front of your face. you were being needy, and normally smiley always gave you what you wanted but today, he was being a little shit about it. “c’mon baby, just suck on it, show me you want this” between your legs starts to run hot, the feeling of your clit pulsating as you finally do what smiley says and wrap your mouth around his cock. the stretch from your lips sting as you go lower on his length, smiley hisses “yeah baby, j-just like that.” his hand cards through your hair, tugging when he feels you gag around him, the veins dragging around your throat as you take more of smiley, his fingers grabbing at the covers while you start to bob your head. the uncomfortable fidget he starts jerking on your hair “ah! bout to c-cum” tears prickle your eyes when he pushes your head further, filling your throat with his hot seed—the remaining substance dribbling from the corners of your lips. “such a good girl, fuck—come get off on my dick now” smiley says, breathless watching you happily climb on his cock—still throbbing and hard he whines when you sink down. he lazily grabs your hips guiding you on his dick “yes baby, f-fuck you’re so wet, sucking my cock turn you on that much?” you babble a yes grinding down on his length, feeling the throb from him—you’re needy; doing all the work to reach your high, smiley is just there to help you.
-ˏˋ angry— needy to get you off
angry loves to see that face, you know the one—the one that begs him to make you cum because only he can do it. your tiny fingers can't reach spots like he can, and he’s so praising about it, always cooing your pitiful tears away when you’re frustrated and on edge. he lives to make you feel good, the feeling he gets deep inside while you lay on your back, legs spread not doing a goddamn thing while angry laps at your clit. he has needs but they’re your needs, he simply could stain his pants just by getting you off, his favorite thing; pleasuring you. so of course when angry tugged at your pants with tears pricking his eyes asking to go down on you, you said yes and of course he obliged to do all the work, after all it was his favorite thing to do. “i want you, so bad baby” he whimpers, spreading your legs and groaning at the mess around your hole, your fingers twist around his curls while he teases licks around your clit—your legs snap shut at his ears but angry didn't care, the only thing on his mind was your cunt. after your taste lingers in his mouth he removes his tongue for his thick fingers with a steady pace while his mouth lands on yours. tongues exploring each other while angry moves faster, circling and dragging his fingers until your vision touches white, he almost does the same thing watching you unravel—your hand clutching to his arm while you ride out his hand, whimpering at the sensitivity once your nerves align back. he could call it a day after that, you’d gotten your fill and angry loved that but the want in your eyes as you dive back into his mouth, your hands pulling him on you, legs open so easily for him. “my fingers not enough baby? gonna fuck you hard, you’re such a good girl” angry sinks in balls deep, no easing into your wet cunt with the amount of your juices dripping down his arms. two-three strokes in and you’re already creaming around him, mindless incoherent words slip past your lips. angry is needy, needy to make you cum every single time.
-ˏˋ inui—needy to know you’ll take any part of him
“not right now princess, later” inui hums, watching you tug at his arm while he sits on the bed, deep in a book. you huff when he shushes your hand away at another attempt, your eyes watching him turn the page with his slender fingers, the ivory skin skimming the page before flipping it—his lashes fluttering at the book. your stomach swirls, heat descending down to between your legs. inui notices the stare, smirking to himself as he flips another page “you sure are needy today” he sits the book down beside the nightstand, motioning for you to climb on his lap “come” one simple command and you’re there neatly sitting on his lap. inui kisses you gently, tilting your head to the side to spread open mouth kisses on your neck and the needy moments of your body begin. it’s slight, relief mostly, grinding on his clothed crotch while inui marks your neck with vibrant purples, breath catching on his throat when your whimper exchanges into moans. “you’re gonna cum if you keep doing that” he says, pulling you down to meet his thigh with his eyes telling you to strip the bottom half of you. the carpet collects your underwear and shorts while inui settles you on either side of his thigh, “if you want it so bad, you better start movin’ baby.” his smile is sweet, propping his hands behind his head while you start to grind down on his thigh, your slick making a clear sheen on his skin—he’s trying to hold his composure but inui chokes a moan back when your clit grazes harder and you moan out his name. his eyes are trained on you, watching you ride his leg while you whimper his name out—the only thing on your mind is him; no matter the way he’s fucking you, you’re just needy to be on him. “fuck princess you’re doing so good, gonna cum—yeah?” your lip bites down the answer, feeling inui finally grip your hips and ride you out on your orgasm. he needed that, to know you’d take any part of him.
-ˏˋ koko— drunk & needy
kokonoi slammed the shot on the table, tongue poking out as he watched you gulp the liquid after him. “beat you again pretty girl” he slurs, stumbling over to you, knocking an arm around your shoulder. your head swirls to the liquor, body disoriented to the touch but your mind stays clear, kokonoi on the other hand—he’s stumbling to the bed hitting the sheets face first. you walk clumsily to him, prodding his back to see if he’s out cold or not. you’re shocked to feel him whip up and roll you on the bed, his body leaning over yours. he’s breathless, the smell of cinnamon tracing your nostrils while he leans down to kiss you—messy but meaningful he kisses you deep, needy for more before you pull away. his lips red around the corners “gotta have you now” he mumbles, taking his clothes off pushing his lips back on yours. it’s different, he feels like not wanting to let go of you—craving skin contact until you’re both naked rolling back and forth on the bed. it stops the moment he’s on top of you, caging your head in with his arms heaving from the make out. his hand creeps down to your cunt, sliding a finger in your slit “who’s pussy is this?” he groans, your back arching off the bed from the feeling of his rough finger making contact. you remain silent, whining from his quick finger jetting over your sensitive nerves, he pulls back his finger putting it in his mouth “i said who’s pussy is this baby? i won’t ask again” he’s demanding now, popping his finger out and daring you to say anything else. your eyes watch him before finally whimpering his name, he smiles again resting between your legs “that’s my girl” he pushes in, pounding into you and rutting deeper until your vision collects figments of white. kokonoi goes faster at every higher pitch you set, clawing his back for more and crying about you wanting to cum—he feels it near but wants to be in you forever; basking in your warm cunt till times end. but as your hips meet his he feels it, the clench of your cunt and kokonoi pulls out spraying his hot seed on your stomach, he groans looking at his mess over you, needy to do it again and again.
-ˏˋ ran—needy to have phone sex
“oh, you’re busy? but uh—i have a problem” ran breathes into the phone, propped up on his bed while he plays with the waistband of his boxers, skimming the fabric with his finger. you can hear the want in his voice, dripping lust into the speaker, he breathes again—husky and deep you hear him shift. “what if i told you i was thinking about how much i loved fucking that tight pussy—” he trails on but stops, smirking as he listens to you shuffle under the covers, noises of your clothes dropping and finally back to listening to his quiet pants. “i love when you ride me, those cute little faces you make when you need my help” ran shifts again, removing his boxers to stroke softly on his dick, his hand sliding off the length before thumbing at his wet slit. he’s driving you crazy, heavy groans in the phone, slowly starting to fuck his hand because of you—your hand reaches down to your bare cunt, slipping a finger in with a whimper included. ran hears it, lips curling into a taunting smile as he strokes harder imagining you’re on top of him—breathless with your tits bouncing as you get off on his cock. “you sure you can cum on your own baby?” he teases, his strokes getting faster on his end but it’s not enough, it isn’t the same without your warm cunt sucking him in—the need for you crawls behind him, the taste of your mouth drips at the tip of his tongue. you’re the same whining as you near your peak but it evades at the thought of your hand doing this, and not ran. “fuck, bout to cum pretty girl—moan my name, tell me how much you want this” ran hisses through his teeth, jerking fast and gripping his member listening to your moans of his name echo in the phone until his hot seed hits his stomach. he’s panting, trying to calm himself down from his orgasm, the sounds of your whimpers still through the phone. he smiles listening to your pleas, “awh baby don’t worry, i’ll come over and make you cum.”
-ˏˋ rindou—needy to sext you
rindou misses you, a lot. yeah it’s only been a day but that doesn’t matter, he just misses how good it feels to have your lips wrapped around his cock, the way you swirl your tongue around him, gagging as you take more of him—tears prickling at your eyes but you don’t stop, you continue taking more of him till your nose touches his abdomen and he’s whimpering for more. he can’t stand it, he needs you—craves your touch. needs you to make him cum, the half-ass jerking he’s doing isn’t enough. he grabs his phone, noticing a text from you left unread. should he start off slow? ease into the fact he’s horny and craves your mouth? yeah that sounds good.
[rindou<3] i want you to suck my dick, pretty please
you gasp at the message while you’re scrolling through social media, an attachment sends right after the message with him holding his dick—red and vicious, leaking of pre-cum and a picture of his chest—beautifully marbled to perfection with hints of veins running down his body, you can’t help but throb between your legs at the sight, his neediness was always such a turn on for you. rindou is teasing himself when the next message comes through, a picture of your chest—your pretty face with your lip puckered, another message flashing afterwards saying you're wet thinking about him. he moans at the picture thinking how much he needs to have you here, sucking him until he releases down your throat and how drenched his fingers get when you beg him to make you cum. his hand cards through his blonde strands, now moving his other to his cock—stroking it firmly before slowly simmering down—just like how you do. rindou struggles to type the next message, his fingers shaky from the rolls of his orgasm approaching.
[rindou<3] fuck baby, want in that tight pussy, now. gonna make a mess all over myself thinkin’ bout you
your stomach flips at the thoughts, his hands roaming over your body, so needy for your touch—the whines he always lets out before filling your messy hole, your hand starts circling your clit, the motions of your hips shaking as you stroke faster thinking about him, your close almost tasting the orgasm on your tongue when another message comes through from him; this time a video. you see his cock pumping out hot liquid from the slit, his groans playing in the background of the video, he moves up the camera till you see his stomach painted with white lace. he ends the video panting, breathing heavy—you thought he needed you this whole time but oh were you so wrong.
-ˏˋ sanzu— needy to be in you now
the lights from passing street lamps flicker into the limousine, sanzu has a hand on your thigh caressing it, he looks over to you and once the lights hit again you can see his scars curve into a smile. “you think he can hear?” he questions, nodding his head towards the driver, solid glass blocks the vision and hearing from the both of you but he shrugs when you say yes—tapping on the glass with his knuckle sanzu turns back to you. “he won’t hear you” he says, pulling you onto his lap straddling you close to his face. you’re confused, quirking an eyebrow in confusion at his comment, he chuckles pushing hair off of your shoulder to kiss your neck “you’re gonna be screamin’ pretty fuckin’ loud, don’t want him to hear you.” your gut twist in sync with sanzu kissing you, hiking your dress up and snapping your heels off, he continues his lips to your skin. you melt at his touch rocking your hips down on his clothed crotch, he groans when he’s met with slick staining his pants. “no panties? really? fuck” he rocks you harder, your clit getting friction while sanzu pulls bruises to your skin. “ten minutes till we’re home, think you can do that?” his breath sits heavy on your ear, moisture collecting on your skin as you gulp down a reasonable answer and decide with a single yes. sanzu pulls his cock free, smacking it against your thigh—warmth radiates off of it as he teases your clit morphing a gurgle of a moan from you. “nine minutes baby, better get to ridin’ my dick” he smiles, watching you slide down on him, you’re wincing at the stretch but blissful once he’s all the way in. “s-shit, so tight” he mumbles, carding a hand through his hair and a steady hand on your hip to aid you in motion. “six minutes pretty girl” he warns, eyeing over your cunt sinking down on his length and brought back up with your juices coating his pants. your moans start to bounce in the car as you grow close, sanzu grabbing both of your sides to pound you down harder on him, his fingers jerking on you as he chases his own pleasure. “t-two minutes, s-shit bout to cum” he whines, feeling the twitch in his dick as you grind down harder on him. “you’re gonna cum aren’t you baby? you’re such a good girl and a minute left—so proud of you” he thrust harder in you once more shooting his seed deep in you, your vision sparkles white as the knot in your stomach pulls loose, juices overflowing all over him. sanzu pulls you close to his chest, still savoring the warmth of your cunt, he chuckles slightly “we’re nowhere near home, i was just being needy”
-ˏˋ kazutora—needy to taste you
kazutora sits between your legs, lazily scrolling through his phone, your body twitches when he jerks up slapping your thigh “i wanna taste you” he mummers toying with your underwear, his eyes shift down to your clothed cunt—dragging his pupils across your cunt again before peeling them away to look at you. you’re silent, blinking several times till he clears his throat “so..can i?” he questions, a smile bleeding through his face, you give a short nod helping him take your underwear off and spreading your legs. the cool air sends shivers down your spine while kazutora slides his hands under your thighs to spread you further. your finger stays in your mouth to muffle the moan once he lays the first lick down your cunt, he sends his eyes back on you while he continues lapping at your wet hole, you can’t help but buckle under his grasp, wiggling at the sensations lighting nerves through your body “you taste good” he slurs, your juices start coating his face. his hair splayed across your legs while kazutora sinks a finger in your messy hole. he can’t help but moan at the way you clench around his digit, fluttering around him while he continues tracing circles on your clit. “gonna cum on my tongue, right?” his eyes rise to your face, the blown out orbs dangled in pleasure, it’s a question but with the way kazutora says it; it’s a demand. he hums in your cunt at the squeeze it has on his finger, running the tip inside your velvet walls while his tongue lays flat doing long laps at your clit—his golden eyes glare at you watching the motions of your tits giggle and your pretty face contorting into angelic moans. he feels how close you are, the agony of his clothed dick rutting against the covers while you finally let go. toes curling as the white spots blur over your vision. he gives your clit a kiss before rising back up, laying his head on your stomach, he hums closing his eyes “such a good girl for me.”
-ˏˋ hanma— needy after being away
“i’ve missed you so much” hanma presses you closer to his body, warmth melts your skin as he moves his lips in sync with yours. “need you so bad” he pushes you on the bed, blankets swallowing you while hanma lays over you, a knee pressed to your cunt and his hands tangled with yours. “you’re the only one that makes me feel good” he whimpers, feeling his swollen cock graze across your pussy. it’s been three months since he’d saw you—a business trip that took too long made hanma pent up and craving your touch—the need to be inside you; feel the tight warmth of your cunt. he tries to stay gentle ripping your clothes off your body, gasps linger in your throat at his greedy hands tearing off the fabric sewed on your body. his mouth devours yours, freeing himself from his clothes finally he pulls away bare and breathless. “i’ve missed this pussy so bad princess, fucking my hand to you every night wasn’t enough” he whines, spreading your legs to sink deep in your hole. a silent scream falling from your mouth when he bottoms out, his eyes trying to drink in every part of your body quickly—he’s missed this so much, nothing could compare and nothing will compare; to you. your nails dig at hanma’s back while he pumps slowly in you, digging deep in your sex trying to stay permanent in your hole. lasting strokes in you as hanma kisses you again, groaning and grouping your flesh—he can’t get enough of you. the addiction grows with your whimpers to go faster, to make you cum—he knows he can only do that, but he’s not level headed just thinking about his pleasure. the days he spent flipping through your pictures while his hand fisted his dick—fuck he can’t believe it’s reality now. the need grows more when he feels how close you are, your body sending spasms enough to twitch your limbs. he’s there to hold you when you finally unravel, your teeth sinking into his shoulder while he still chases his high. he gasps as his seed hits heavy in your cunt but not wanting to stop, his eyes settle on yours “still need you” he begs, still pumping in your dripping hole.
♡ — tags/warnings: afab!reader, breakup sex, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), a lot of tears— both sexy and sad, timeskip ofc
♡ — a/n: my first long piece for tokyo revengers! and ofc my beloved draken had to be the first one <3
♡ — masterlist
He shouldn’t have come.
That’s the first thing that comes to Draken’s mind when you pull away from his lips to take off your shirt. He’s already half-hard and his pants only get tighter at the sight of your bra right in front of him.
Less than ten minutes ago, he had been sitting on the same couch where he was lying now. Only you weren’t grinding your hips as you were now― your lower lip was trembling as you handed him one of his old sweaters you always used to wear.
He could have chosen to have this conversation any other place. You would have said yes to meeting at a café or strolling down the street. Yet he was the one that asked if he could come over and you were the one that agreed.
Your lips slid against his again, the kiss you shared rough, demanding, but mostly, needy. His skin burnt for you just as the first time he had you and he couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, making a soft moan leave your lips. With his back on the couch and your hands slipping under his shirt, he could barely remember the reason he came to your place was to finally put an end to your tumultuous relationship.
Well, that and because he couldn’t bear not seeing you any longer.
— part one: boo boo's someone actually requested a part two before but i accidentally deleted their ask and i forgot lsndj sorry
baji keisuke redefined the meaning of the word peace when he entered your life one night, half-dead. bidding farewell to the tranquility of being alone in your empty house, the quietness that comforted you when lonely nights hit you like a trainwreck.
baji keisuke overwrote the definition of the peace you've known your whole life. he replaced the silence with his patterned knocks on your front door and the rhythmic pounds of his heart. his company became the home that your house lacked, filling up the empty spaces with his roaring laughters and unplanned visits.
"you're injured again?" with a click of a tongue, you turned on your heels to head towards the bathroom. keisuke, all purpled and bruised, with his shirt dirtied with grime and blood, trailed behind you with an unsual small smile on his face.
"yeah," he manages to breathed out an answer once you both step into the familiar tiles of your bathroom. he watched you lean on the tips of your toes, amusement swimming in his grey hues as you struggled to get the first aid kit that you somehow had placed on the very top of the shelf.
keisuke sits on the covered toilet and rolled his sleeves up to display his battle-filled arms. the sight of his injury didn't phase you one bit, opting to squat down to get face the ugly wounds plastered on his flesh. "you should take care of yourself more, kei."
he hissed when you gently pressed on the wound, but he still sent you a shit-eating grin despite the ache that coursed through his body. "i'll think about it, doc."
you looked at him, baffled with your mouth hanging open at his response. "think about it? what-"
keisuke winks at you.
"well, i need a reason to keep coming back to you, don't i?"
peace became the small moments you've had with him. when he visits you without telling you first, walking in your house like he owns the place. peace became the intimate moments you've shared, when he sits down on the toilet so you could clean up the mess he made with his body because he trusts you enough to give you a piece of a vulnerable part of him.
peace became the sound of his laughter echoing, bouncing off of the walls of your house that you now shared with him, and you didn't want it any other way.
"idiot. you don't need a reason. this is your home now too, you know?"
all i can think about is the tokrev boys flipping out on you and accusing you of betrayal, whether it be from something going missing or a false rumor or a questionable misunderstanding; and when they realize they fucked up, they go to you to apologize, wanting you to hear them out regardless of whether or not you’ll accept their apology.
but, all you do is stare at them with cold, aloof eyes, countenance devoid of any lingering signs of the sweet, affectionate girlfriend that used to pepper their cheeks with kisses and hurry to greet them whenever you spotted them in public. you give them a lazy once-over, analyzing their fidgeting hands and repentant bow.
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