A/N: I was supposed to post this hours ago, and I'm sure it's not great because I'm rusty af and I've always phoned it in when it comes to writing the actual porn part of this shit...but yeah. Also, I'm sorry if I did Kazutora wrong... I have never written for him except like once but not really soooooo... Sorry, this is late, tell me if I missed any warnings, and give me feedback. I'll respond to my inbox in the morning... I promise I'm not ignoring you guys who already messaged me...
You wouldn’t have ended up in this situation if you weren’t an idiot. Now, you’re naked and fumbling with the locks in the house of a man you don’t know. You plead with god under your breath; you ask to stop shaking just enough to get out of the door. You’re pathetic, but that’s where having no self-worth gets you. Who asks strangers in they met in a bar to kill them?
Your hands can’t steady themselves enough to turn this last lock.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… unlock.” You mumble. You can hear him getting closer. His apartment is too small for you to be taking your sweet time like this.
“You can’t just leave me high and dry.” You can feel the warmth of his morning breath against the nape of your neck and more than anything—he smells like beer. “Last night… you had too much fun.” A cold, calloused hand travels over your shoulder, moves slowly down your arm and stops at your waist. “It didn’t even feel like I was raping you. You liked it so much.” His voice comes out gentle, detached from this all, as he sinks his fingers into the cuts he’d left on your body last night. The pain is so sharp, so sudden… you freeze. “You’re pathetic, like me. No wonder you want to die.”
The same hand reopening your wounds is the same one that turns you to face him. There’s nothing behind his wide, amber eyes; not a soul, not a competent thought. Tears you’ve been holding back blur your vision, and you’re still trembling as you crumble to your knees in front of him. “Kazutora, I want- I enjoy being alive now! I-” The tears race their way down your cheeks and stain your tongue with the taste of salt before meeting at your chin. “I like being alive! I swear I won’t tell anybody about this if you just let me go!” Not a hint of sympathy breaches his dead expression. His lips stay in a straight line and his eyes never leave yours. He says nothing. “I want to li-ive” You hiccup.
“We had a deal, though. Didn’t we?” A hand with blood-covered fingertips makes its way into your hair. He pushes it out of your face but never drops his hand.
“Ye- but I think I’m better no-ow and I don’t–Kazutora, I just wanna get help a–” THUNK! Your head slams into the door… or rather, Kazutora slams your head into the door.
“How’s it fair that you get to have all the fun? ‘Better now?’” His hand in your hair punishes you with sharp pain when you strain against it now. “I have felt nothing for years, but a dumb bitch like you suddenly changes overnight?” He seethes, but nothing in his expression changes. His voice stays flat, and he stays calm as ever. “I thought we were the same? We both felt nothing, right?” He doesn’t even let you respond, suddenly your being dragged by your hair somewhere else.
Your unsteady hand comes to his arm. You scratch and pull, but it’s like he truly feels nothing. Your spent body slides across his floor and there’s nothing you can do to stop him. “Kazutora! Stop! It hurts!” You slap his wrist.
When he throws you into his kitchen, you can feel the hair tear from your scalp and the pain of your head slamming into the cabinet as you prepare to fight for your life.
Internally, you’re ready to kick, scream and do anything you can to survive, but outwardly-
“I haven’t killed anyone one since…” He trails off, grabbing a knife off of his counter. “Middle school.” He stands, towering over you and you’re frozen.
“Please don’t do this. I don’t want to die.” You hold an unsteady hand out as your last line of defense. “I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry-”
“We had a deal. You told me you wanted this. Don’t act like I’m the bad guy when you’re the one who lied.” He kneels between your legs and pushes them open, knife in hand. “This was your fucking dream, and I’m fulfilling it and maybe I’ll get something out of it too. Maybe I’ll feel something again and I’ll cry for you like I did the last time I did this.” You shake your head feverishly and your hand comes out once more to push at him, but it’s weak; you don’t even move him. “Before I kill you, I’m going to rape you again.” Your foot barely clips his shoulder when he folds you in half and he doesn’t seem to mind. His knife clatters to the floor beside your head and you can’t move to grab it.
“It’ll be just like what happened when I was locked up, so I want you to cry even more.” Your back is bent uncomfortably and there’s a cramp forming in your neck. You’re frozen as he sheathes himself inside of you. You scream for help.
“SOMEONE!! PLEASE HELP ME!!” you yell. Your throat feels raw immediately. “Kazutora! Stop! Let me go!” He slams into you so feverishly it stings on your skin and your hole already feels punished enough from last night.
“Help me!” You wail. “Help! Someone, please!” Your throat is hurting. It’s giving out. You can’t even scream loudly because of the position you’re in. You choke on a mix of spit and snot before yelling even more. “Please, stop! Kazutora, it hurts.”
“Keep yelling. It’s what I did. I said almost everything you’re saying, but they were doing worse to me daily.” A smile blooms across his face. He doesn’t moan, he just smiles while he recounts his past. “No one ever came, but they might come for you. Right? You’re special enough…”
“PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE HERE!” You beg with anyone who might be listening, but from your position, you’re just not loud enough. He’s got you squished between him and his cabinets and your voice probably isn’t traveling outside of his apartment. Every time he pushes himself back inside of you, he slams you against the cabinets just hard enough to knock the wind out of you. Still, you repeat your cries for help.
“You know what happened to me when I whined this much?” You don’t hear him, but he says it and it’s just as unaffected as everything else he’s said. You’re too busy being concerned about not dying. He stops and pulls out. In a moment of confusion, you stop too. Your body unfolds itself and you open your mouth to speak to him, wondering if he’d suddenly become rational.
“Ka-” You,re silenced by a powerful punch to the jaw. Before you can process that much, you’re being hit in the nose. Then your stomach and everywhere else, you can’t move fast enough to block him from hurting you. It’s a painful storm of blunt force and all you can do is try to hide, but it’s useless. You whimper and cry every time he hits you with every impact, seeming harder than the last.
You can feel the blood from your nose traveling over your swollen lips by the time he’s done beating you into submission. “Get on your stomach.” It doesn’t take much for you to do as he says. You roll over and lie flat, eyeing the knife still beside you, but now it’s more blurry than before.
“Ass up.” The sting of a palm spreads across your flesh. It could be worse. Kazutora has done much worse by now. Still, you obey and push up onto your knees. He situates himself inside you again. This time there’s no screaming, you don’t even cry. You let him use you with the occasional tremor wracking your severely abused frame. You don’t even whine when his hands tugs at the cuts on your waist. The loud slapping of skin overtakes the air for a moment. Both of you are silent.
Neither of you talking is preferable. You go as far as trying to hold back your involuntary sniffling. It lasts for about two minutes. The last crash of his hips against yours has him moaning into the air and filling you up with his seed before pulling out.
You let your body fall flat again.
“No one came for you. I guess you have no reason to live after all… you’re not important.” Kazutora muses as he picks up the knife from beside you. His free hand caresses your back. “Tell me, why do you want to live?”
well i actually decided to do it -- let's see how this goes; if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on this post. warnings subject to change once i actually start writing so be aware of that once i post the fics. tee, my most dearly beloved, thank you for making this for me <3 u are far bigger brained than i will ever be. an editing god if i do say so myself.
rbs for boost greatly appreciated
FILM #1: THE RED MEANS I LOVE YOU haitani ran
summary: bringin’ a whole new meaning to virgin killer!
FILM #2: NO, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME, MISTER GHOSTFACE! haitani rindou and sanzu haruchiyo
summary: what's the cost of making it out alive?
warnings: fem!reader, ghostface!rindou, ghostface!sanzu, final girl!reader, mean dom!rindou, mean dom!sanzu, sub!reader, graphic descriptions of blood and violence, blood kink, dubcon, knife play, fear play, threesome, character death
FILM #3: THEY TELL ME I’M A GOD tartaglia
summary: it was time for you to test just how far your most devoted was willing to go to demonstrate his loyalty.
warnings: cultist!childe, cult leader!reader, fem!reader, body worship, oral, blood kink, praise, heavy manipulation, switch!reader, switch!childe, pussy drunk!childe, obsessive!childe
FILM #4: I WANNA BE IN THE SEQUEL hanma shuji
summary: ghostface is back and wreaking havoc on your town--except the target this time around just so happens to be your little brother’s friend group, and what sort of big sister would you be if you left him there to deal with it alone?
warnings: sequel to film #2, fem!reader, ghostface!hanma, serial killer!reader, blood n gore, knife play, switch!hanma, switch!reader
FILM #5: HUSH sano manjiro and sanzu haruchiyo
summary: your step brother just couldn’t stand the way his number two’s eyes would always linger on you, and he couldn’t stand even more the way you seemed to enjoy it.
warnings: stepcest, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!mikey, fear play, noncon voyeurism (as in sanzu is forced to watch), humiliation, possessive!mikey, gunplay, mikey makes some pretty vile threats toward reader n sanzu
FILM #6: LIGHTS OUT tighnari
summary: separated from your friends at a scream park when the power goes out, you think waiting it out will be easy until your hybrid goes into heat and you get an eerie feeling that someone is watching the two of you.
warnings: modern au/hybrids, fem!reader, pet play, power imbalance, switch!reader, switch!tighnari, heavy fear play, tighnari goes into heat, semi-public sex, sensory deprivation (kind of), voyeurism
sanzu doesn't know why he's doing this. he just got a text from kokonoi saying that you didn't show up for work. he was the nearest to where you live so he was told to check up on you whether you're still alive or somehow got kidnapped
what he didn't expect was to see you dying on your couch. your whole body was burning really hot, snot was dripping down your nose, and your cough sounds like a talking goose
you're covered by a very thick blanket. there were used tissues all over you. an empty roll was on the ground near the coffee table it was obvious you ran out of tissues. and you're smelly as fuck
sanzu was disgusted. repulsed even "what the fuck?" he says your name in disbelief
so he's wondering why he was putting on your rubber gloves that he took from your cleaning cabinet and started cleaning your place
he left you here drowning in your snot and suffering from the pain of your throat with each cough while he was putting and organizing the scattered dishes into the sink. he hates being disorganized. hates mess. hates anything out of their orderliness
you haven't even realized that there's someone in your place cleaning up the dirt and trash around you and washing your dishes
sanzu couldn't care less hearing your sickly sounds and proceeds to wear a disposable mask to spray some disinfectant around and take out your trash bag. with how he brought himself up, he's obliged to clean up your mess. and he knows that he wouldn't do this if it were the other bonten members (other than his king of course)
he didn't complain. he didn't even voice out his disgust other than scrunching up his nose at you every time he passes by your unmoving figure on the couch
when he's finally done and satisfied with his cleaning, he took a cup and filled it with water. then he went to your medicine box and got your medicine for your fever and being the callous person that he is, he decided he wouldn't call a doctor unless you're coughing up blood
troublesome he thinks as he stares down at you. he was thinking whether he should leave the water and medicine on the coffee table or just throw you in your bathroom to have you clean up
it's his first time seeing you so weak like this. you're bonten's secretary, you're always on the call. you've got a steadfast personality and hardcore loyalty that even he, himself, applauds you for
to think that what he's seeing right now is the opposite of what he's used to is really strange and lowkey jarring
"y/n" he nudges at your bundled figure with his foot and you don't budge
"are you dead?" he asks as he grabs your blanket and pulls it off your body. the moment he pulled it off, you shivered and groaned, wrapping your arms around yourself upon feeling the cold air on your skin
you were wearing a hoodie, jogger pants, and a pair of socks. now he could see clearly the wet spot near your neck from… your saliva and snot? urgh
"fucking disgusting, y/n. get up and change your clothes" but all you did was groan and turn away from him, tucking your knees to your chest like a kid
sanzu throws his hands up as he lets out an exasperated sigh and grunts at you, "do i have to do everything?" yet despite his obvious disgust, he begrudgingly goes to your bedroom to get you a change of clothes
now comes the supposedly fun part… if only you weren't sick then he'd have a very enjoyable time taking your clothes off, but then you're covered in a cold sweat. and you smell bad
he didn't have a hard time when he finally got all your clothes off, but your smell pushed him to throw you back your covers and went to ready the shower. he rolls his sleeves up his forearms and removes his socks.
he got back at you when he got the right temperature and carries you there, carefully placing your butt on the rim of the huge tiled tub that made you yelp from the coldness of it
you woke up, eyes slightly opened with your face looking as if in pain. your arms immediately go around his neck, and you bury your face between his neck and shoulder from the coldness you feel from your butt
"hold still! you need a fucking shower"
"nooo" you whimpered in his neck. he would have thought you were cute if you weren't naked and stinking
he forced you to let go and grabbed the shower head, attacking you with the water straight to your face. you yelped back and he grabbed you by your forearm, pulling you back and avoiding your head hitting the other side of the tub
he continues to shower you as you whimpered for him to be careful. a chore he thinks. he lets go of your forearm and puts his hand on your back to balance you. and you almost told him to don't let go of you because the feeling of his palm against your skin felt good
your head is down, eyes closed as you start to get comfortable under the warm water. sanzu eyes you act so behaved right now and tells you with an unexpectedly soft voice, a whisper, to hold on to the shower head as he gets your shampoo, squirting a bit to his palm before he lathers it up and puts it to your hair
he makes sure to run his fingers through your hair to spread the shampoo before he starts to massage your scalp. you let out a slight sound of contentment, smiling a bit as you feel him put pressure behind your ears
he grunts when he hears you, feeling a bit weird– the good kind of weird– that he's standing inside your bathroom, showering you while he's fully clothed and you naked like a newborn baby
speaking of, he forgot to roll his pant legs up to his knees. the bottom hems are now soaking wet as you unconsciously pointed the shower head to his legs. he lets out a deep sigh seeing this and takes the shower head from you in a displeased manner, rinsing the shampoo off of your head
when he's done, he makes you take hold of the shower again with a warning of "point that fuking thing away from me or i'll fill up the bathtub and drown you" before taking your bath sponge and body wash
the water's still running but you're rich! so sanzu doesn't mind letting it run while cleaning your body
"put your hands up" he says as he runs the bath sponge on your sides to go up to your armpits
"or what? are you going to arrest me, officer?" you haven't said anything coherent ever since he arrived and that's the first thing you say to him?
he condescendingly stares at you, eyes twitching in annoyance. he can't believe that you're acting so ridiculous. you were always prim and proper… but right now? you're anything but that and it makes him want to pull out his phone and record you for his own amusement
he pinches your nose with an ugly sneer before he puts your hands on his shoulders as he scrubs your armpit. and you giggle like a child, coughing when your throat suddenly became itchy and sanzu almost forgot that you're sick
he rinses you of the soap and gets your towel, wrapping your body with one and patting your wet hair with the other
sanzu is mean
you know this, he knows this, and everyone else around him knows this. that's why after he's reached his maximum niceness level today, he harshly picks you up and drops you on your couch. smacking you with your clothes before checking his phone and ignoring your protests of his actions
he received texts while he was tending to you. he got a text from mikey asking if you're still alive, and he immediately replied with a 'slr boss. she was otw to dying but i gave her meds.' he got another text from kokonoi telling him to go to the warehouse to deal with shipping after checking up on you to which he replies with a simple 'k.' other texts he ignored
he hears you grumble behind him, clothe with fresh clothes and blowing your nose on a tissue before coughing
his face scrunches up at you in disdain. he wants to stay and take care of you in case you choke on your own saliva but that was too out of character for him so he leaves you, "be back as soon as you're better"
the next day, you're back at work as good as new. pristine and proper like how you always are when at work
"good morning, boss. and good morning to you, sanzu" you got up and greeted them as soon as they stepped into the office. mikey stops in front of you, looking at your form from top to bottom
"how are you feeling?"
"perfect, boss"
mikey replies with a curt nod, "good" and proceeds to walk past you. sanzu stops in front of you as well, hands in his pocket and eyes condescending as ever, "glad you survived the night without me"
you look up at him, eyes meeting his in a calm and professional manner. "your help was much appreciated, sanzu. and i only survived the night only because of you taking care of me yesterday" shower him in gratitude, stroke his ego, and he'll be satisfied enough to leave you alone
that's how it's always been. that's how you've survived being a member for this long. you stroke their ego, have them hear what they want to say and they won't bully you. won't interact with you more than necessary. this might seem like a boring life but for you… as long as you're living the way you want, you're satisfied with it
but that proved to be invalid in this instance as sanzu grabbed you by your jaw, squishing your cheeks and making your lips pop out. he glares at you, nose flaring as if offended by what you have said. and you're utterly confused by this sudden change. you made a mistake
"shove that annoyingly polite mannerism of yours up in your ass, y/n. you fucking soiled my expensive pants yesterday and you're going to pay for that" he didn't mention how he cleaned your place. he didn't forget, he just didn't think it was important enough to bring up since he secretly enjoys cleaning
"i-im sorry, sanzu" you squeak out as best as you can, trying to think of a way to lessen his anger(?) at you for you know that no one ever dares to anger him
you try to pry his fingers away from your cheeks, making his hold on you go from your jaw to your neck. and you let out a slight squeak upon feeling his hand grip your throat "i'll pay for it, sir. even replace it. let me just buy you a new one"
he thinks about it for a second. he doesn't want to keep you from your job since you're excellent on that so he settles with something nicer
"reserve me a table from that restaurant koko went to with his partner" he says, letting go of you before casually putting his hand back in his pocket. his face now harmless as he looks down at you yet you maintain your politeness, afraid that he might snap
"of course sir, table for two?" you ask as you sit down in front of your office table ready to call the restaurant. you figure he was going to eat at the restaurant with mikey since he mentioned it before so you just went with it
sanzu grunts in affirmation and he was about to go to mikey to let you do your job before he adds, "table for two. for you and me. got it?" he doesn't wait for an answer as he gives you a look and walks away just like that
he knows you'll assume that he's just going to take advantage of your debt to him so he has to make his intentions clear
he 'pampered' you while you were sick. he cleaned your place, bathe you, and gave you medicine. he even went past his niceness limit that day for you
Summary: If anyone asked what the Haitani brothers remember about their childhood, what would they say? They would immediately say one name. [Y/N]. Their babysitter and only friend when they were little. Even after so many years later, they still remember her. Everything she did would amaze them. But one encounter with their mother, they never saw her again until recently, her name came out in one of their meetings. They were happy just by the mention of her name but the reason why she came up shocked them both.
characters: Haitani Brothers x reader , Sanzu x reader
warnings: nightmares, child abuse
notes: HI EVERYONE! So I decided to start this story. I’m so excited for it since I have a lot of ideas for it! I sure do hope you guys will enjoy this! If you wanna be tagged on this story, let me know. I’ll gladly put you on the list! Hope you guys enjoy this!
summary - you spend the day at bonten headquarters, and ran makes a choice.
cw - drugs, smut, guns, murder, praise, degradation, dub!con, reader is a sex worker w a sick brother. ran likes you!!! likes you a lot!! too much probably, probably far too much. he's possessive! and ill behaved! my beloved.
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You sleep with him, and he curls his long body around you, burying his face in your shoulder. When he moves in the night he pulls you with him, and when you wake you find your face in his chest, his hands tangled in your hair. He stretches, picking his phone up off the nightstand, then glancing back over at you, bleary eyed. You’re still bruised, and the side of your face is even worse than the day before with the marks jaundicing slightly as they heal. He reaches out and brushes some hair from your face. You stir, and he leans over, pressing his lips to your forehead.
“Ready for work?” He asks and you nod, even though you have no idea what he means. You’re still in no shape to have sex, or even to pleasure anyone else. He gets up and thumps off to the bathroom, tossing you a gigantic shirt to wear. “You’re coming into the office with me.” He says brightly, “Since apparently you can’t be left alone.” You sit up, the shirt covers most of your body, hanging down around mid thigh.
“Do you have my suitcase?” You ask and he shrugs.
“I think you look good like that.” He says casually, and you shake your head.
“I, I, I need pants,” you manage, “I need-”
“I said I think you look good like that.” He responds, shooting you an icy glare. You shut your mouth. “Good girl,” he coos, reaching for the bottle of pills, “Open.” You let him place the small purple pill on your tongue. He leans down and kisses your forehead as you let it dissolve. He pulls you to the bathroom and you brush your hair, applying minimal makeup, not bothering to try to cover the bruising, which looks even worse today. You catch Ran looking at you with mild concern, catch the way his eyes flick to the little cut on your face, to the bruises around your neck and down your chest, but he doesn’t say anything.
You’re followed out of the apartment and into the elevator by at least four heavily armed men, and on your way to the office they open doors for you both, drive cars, walk in front of you and behind you. Ran boosts you up into the backseat of a sleek black escalade. He pulls you most of the way into his lap and you shiver, nuzzling into him for warmth, the cold piercing right through the shirt he’d given you.
“It’s freezing.” You whisper, and he wraps two arms around you, tucking your face into his neck.
“I know, just get close to me.” He says, his voice is almost kind. If you were more sober maybe you’d wonder if he’d done this on purpose, kept you almost naked and vulnerable so that you’d be forced to hide and take refuge in him. Instead, you watch a light snow fall outside the car, feeling the circles he’s rubbing in your thigh. Bonten’s offices are above an old Italian restaurant, and he leads you through it, letting you hide your face from the waitstaff in his big blue suit jacket. You come up the stairs right behind him, holding onto his hand for stability, his silver rings cool on your skin. The stairway is narrow and carpeted, and the office seems normal enough if it weren’t for the constant presence of security, the oddly expensive looking art on the wall, the little minifridges filled with booze, monster and red bull, and the slight smell of cigar smoke.
“And who’s this?” You hear, and peek out from behind Ran. A huge man, tall and thin with dark hair gives you a predatory smile.
“Bitch shot two guys in my apartment,” Ran says, fumbling in his pocket for his vape, patting you affectionately with his free hand. “I dunno what they’re after me for this time but I told her she could stay with me till shit calms down.”
“Hanma Shuuji,” the tall man says, extending a tattooed hand. You reach out and accept it, taking just the slightest step away from Ran, and revealing more of your face. “What the hell happened to you?” He recoils initially, then bursts out laughing. “Didja learn to fight from Haitani or something?”
“Shut up.” Ran snips, pulling you away from Hanma.
“She fights better than Ran,” you hear, and see a younger man, with long pink purple hair framing his face. He has the same gentle sloping nose as Ran and the same light eyes. “She actually hit the guys she was shooting at.”
“I, I wasn’t,” you pipe up, and then wonder if you should have asked permission to speak, “I didn’t mean to hit anyone, sir.” Ran takes a puff on his vape, rolling his eyes as he’s momentarily overtaken by a grape flavored cloud.
“You got your ass kicked a lot, Rin, I don’t wanna hear shit from you, and you,” he turns to Hanma, “Don’t scare the bitch, she’s gotta get back to work for us when she’s all healed up.” He hits you lightly on the back of the head. “Got an email from your boss on the way over here, she said your regulars are complaining.”
“Let ‘em complain.” Hanma says, smiling again in a way that feels distinctly unwarm, his stare making you shiver.
“That is bad for business.” Ran says, tugging you along the hallway and away from the other executives. You feel the purple haired man, Rin, Ran had called him, you feel eyes on you, sure that in the fluorescents Ran’s shirt was translucent. “C’mon. You gotta meet the others, they’ve each got their fun little thing.” Ran pulls you into what looks almost like a conference room, but you’re 90% sure there’s a woman's thong sitting casually on the table in between an empty scotch glass and an ashtray. Rindou and Hanma follow you inside, and Ran makes a show of introducing you to people. “That’s Kokonoi, he likes money more than he likes people. That’s Sanzu, he likes drugs more than he likes people, and Mikey, over there, more than he likes drugs. Mikey doesn’t like anything, and neither does Kakucho.”
“Are you finished?” Mikey says, leaning forward in his chair, scowling. Ran just shrugs. You take a step back from the blond, his dark eyes covered in shadow.
“I don’t think so,” Ran rubs his chin, “Did I introduce you to Rin or did he just insult me?”
“Haitani Rindou,” the purple haired man says, stepping into the room and rolling his eyes. “Now she’s met me, can we sit down?” Ran sighs dramatically, plopping into a chair and yanking you into his lap hard enough to make you gasp with pain, a sound that the group largely ignores. Mikey, however, frowns.
“I’d prefer you not make her do that again.” He says, and you look up at him but he’s holding Ran’s gaze, not yours. “What happened?” The others take a seat around the table, some of them are drinking, and some of them look crumpled and disheveled like they’re still up from the party the night before.
“Someone broke into one of our establishments,” Ran says, “Tried to kill her to send a message to me,” he glances down at you, “But she’s tougher than she looks, he about kicked the shit outta her but she stabbed him.”
“Is that why she’s in your lap?” Kokonoi says dryly. “So that if she stabs someone this time it’s you?”
“She’s in my lap because I want her there.” Ran says, still in his lazy drawl but with a dark undercurrent.
“Keep going.” Mikey says, sounding bored.
“I took her back to my place, for obvious reasons,” you’re still half hidden in his chest, “Can ya look at the people, sweetheart?” You nod, and obey, turning your face fully out from his chest for the first time. You get the sense that even in a room full of people who’ve seen terrible things, done terrible things, your face still looks pretty bad.
“Embarrassing.” Kakucho mutters eventually. “Hitting someone who can’t possibly fight back.” Ran shrugs.
“I mean you can’t say all the fights I picked were fair but I did win them.” He grins, “You can go back to hiding, I’ll let you know if you need to speak.” They all watch as you obey, still high, wrapping the inside of his jacket around yourself. “Anyway, she came back to my place, I asked for two decent guys,” he glances at Rindou, “Which I thought my dear brother was capable of providing,” Rindou scowls, “But someone broke in, kicked the shit out of them, and she shot ‘em.” Mikey rubs his eyes.
“And they seemed only interested in you, not in us?” He asks, and Ran gives you a little nudge.
“They said it was about something he did in Roppongi.” You murmur, peeking out to look at Mikey.
“That could be almost anything.” Kokonoi takes a sip of his drink, it’s cherry red, and you imagine it’s syrupy and sweet. “And nothing to do with you?” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Piss off one of your johns, princess?” You open your mouth to speak but Ran chuckles.
“She’s actually very well reviewed.” He says, and you feel your face burn. “But don’t get your hopes up boys, she’s got three broken ribs.”
“I mean,” Sanzu speaks for the first time. “We could get her high enough so that she doesn’t feel it.” You shrink even further into Ran.
“Every day that she’s not in her little room downtown we are bleeding money.” Ran shakes his head. “Which is why I would like to find these people quickly.” He slides some paper across the table. “I think honestly I know who it is.” Rindou looks up. “I mean, who hates me personally more than Daito.”
“Hmmm,” Rindou rubs his chin, and for a moment you’re struck with the mannerism of Ran’s he’s unconsciously mimicking. “Daito Yagami, shit.”
“Are the two of you speaking in your own cute little language or do we all get to know what’s happening?” Hanma drawls.
“We killed his brother.” Ran explains, “When I was sixteen.” He feels you tense in his lap, “Oh baby,” he coos, looking down at you, “Does that scare you?” You don’t respond and he chuckles. “I’d never hurt anything as defenseless as you.” You don’t look convinced and there are a few laughs from the group. “I’ll have my men look into that, but it could be new rivals, could be Taiju, or somethin’ else entirely.” He leans back in the rolling chair, testing to see if you’ll keep taking refuge in him. You do, following his movements no matter how he shifts. They spend the meeting planning something but you’re too high to hear what’s happening. You’ve got two little fistfuls of Ran’s shirt, he’s got one hand on the back of your head, petting it softly. “Sweetheart,” he says, and you’re not sure how long it’s been when you blink back to reality, the light in the room has changed and there are more drinks on the table, more cigs in the ashtray. You blink a couple times.
“She’s fuckin’ gone.” Sanzu mutters. You rub your good eye, head pounding.
“You hungry?” Ran asks, and you nod dumbly. “You want another pill?” You nod again and he digs in the pocket of his suit jacket, producing the bottle. He takes a pill out and you open your mouth, he puts it directly on your tongue, and before it can even dissolve you’re back to hiding in his jacket.
“You’re gonna have to give her back,” Mikey says coolly, “If she’s really as high an earner as you say she is.” Ran shrugs.
“I’m thinking about promoting her.” He shrugs. “Considering she’s technically already completed initiation.” Kakucho looks troubled, but Mikey leans forward, his thoughts plain on his face.
“She could probably come and go from different places without being suspected,” he muses, “Of course, when she’s not,” he gestures to the bruises visible all over, “Like this.” He stands, “Sanzu, Haitani and I have some business, you’ll watch the girl.”
“I don’t think she’ll go with him.” Ran says quickly.
“I said he’d watch her.” Mikey says coolly, eyes narrowing. “Is there a problem?” The room drops several degrees in temperature, all conversation stops. Ran doesn’t appear affected by it though. He shrugs.
“Let’s give it a shot, boss.” He peels you off of his lap, your eyes go wide with fear. “You’re gonna hang with Sanzu, baby, can you handle that?” You frown. “Gonna miss me?” He teases, but you hear the implicit threat and answer immediately.
“Yes.” You whisper. He cackles, pushing you towards Sanzu. You crash hard against his chest, and he rights you without care for your injuries and you suck in a sharp breath at his touch to your waist.
“Why,” Mikey pinches the bridge of his nose, “Haitani why isn’t she wearing pants?” Ran takes a puff on his vape before responding.
“Because I didn’t give her pants to wear.” He grins, turning to Sanzu. “Try and keep her in one piece for me?” Sanzu grins, lifting you off your feet, cradling you to his chest.
“If you care so much, do something about it.” Ran takes another drag on his vape, “Are we gonna go or nah?” Mikey nods, leading the lavender haired man out of the room. Sanzu bounces you like you’re a child he’s trying to soothe. He smells different than Ran, sweeter, a honeyed smoke.
“Haitani’s little plaything,” he says softly, and you lift your head to look at him. His eyes are a crystal clear blue, light and haunting as a wide open sky. You feel him looking at your bruise, examining your injuries as the rest of the men file out. “Losing a fight’s no fun, huh?” He says and you nod, unsure if you’re being encouraged to make conversation with him. You don’t have to wonder long because he looks away and carries you out of the conference room, down the hall. He has his own office. The desk is a mess of papers, there’s a couch and coffee table, and a window with the blinds closed. He sits you on top of the papers, and you blink a few times, trying to focus. Your head is spinning, this feels stronger, different from the painkillers.
“What,” you mumble, and realize your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, “What did he, what did he give me?” Sanzu glances at you and shrugs.
“Dunno.” He says, and you run your fingers through your hair, trying to focus. “Don’t fight it though,” he advises, “Just relax and enjoy sweetheart.” You take a deep breath, your nails digging half moons into the skin of your palm. “You eaten?” You shake your head. He picks up the phone on his desk and you think he orders food, but you’re not entirely sure, floating in and out of the conversation.
“Sitting up hurts, please, god.” You barely manage the words, your voice tight and pinched, and evidently you’ve interrupted him mid sentence because he cocks his head at you.
“I fucking forgot,” he cackles, “That’s what I told Ran I wanted bitches to call me,” he laughs like a hyena, running his fingers through his already wild cotton candy colored hair, “Whaddya want me to do about that?” You nod, chewing the inside of your cheek.
“I,” you take a gulp of air. “I could lie down on the floor.” He cackles again, but the offer was genuine, you start to move. He gets up quickly, stopping you.
“I was kidding, I,” He helps you onto your feet but you can’t tell if he’s purposely touching your tender spots or if he’s genuinely clumsy, and you can’t bite back the gasp of pain that rushes from your lips as he guides you by the waist to the soft leather sofa. You curl into the fetal position, tears sparking in your eyes, every sensation heightened as Sanzu squats down next to you, studying you for a moment before brushing some hair from your face.
“So sweet,” he coos, “Sweet little girl.” You moan softly, it feels nice and safe. “Does it hurt baby?” He asks.
“Mhm.” You whimper. He keeps playing with your hair, like he’s fixated on it, sitting on the ground next to you while you float in and out of consciousness. You’re not sure how long he does it for, the repetitive motion and the drugs is making you feel soft and warm. It must be a long time, because when your eyelids flutter open the light has changed and he’s still there, scrolling through his phone with one hand and massaging your scalp with the other.
“Why did you do it?” He asks, so quietly you nearly ask him to repeat himself.
“Do what?”
“Why didn’t you stop fighting?” He asks, and he holds your eyes, stare intense but not cold.
“In, in my room I,” you sigh, “I just, when he said he was going to kill me I could have screamed,” you roll onto your back, eyes drifting shut. “I had a moment where I could have screamed, and someone would have come.” He withdraws his hand from you. “But I couldn’t find my voice, I,” you laugh lightly and then moan in pain as it blooms uncomfortably in your chest, “I reached for it but I was so afraid I couldn’t speak. So I decided I’d have to save myself.” Sanzu nods. You reach up and run your fingers through your hair.
“Haitani called you a tough bitch.” He says, and you look at him again, pressing your lips together. “You don’t like that, being called a bitch?”
“I’m not strong.” You clarify in a high pitched whisper. “Just, just trying not to die, I, I have people, people I care about.” He nods absentmindedly, setting his phone on the table and reaching down to touch your bare thigh, you hear him grunt a little as he stands. He pushes your legs apart, and you feel his fingers on your panties. “I, I don’t know if, If Mr. Haitani-”
“I don’t care.” Sanzu interrupts you, and you feel him slip them to the side. “I’m just looking, anyway,” you feel him part your folds and you try to sit up but you can’t. “Do you not want me to, sweetheart?” He asks, and you shiver.
“I’m afraid it’s going to hurt, god.” You whisper, and he chuckles.
“Of course it’s going to hurt,” He coos, “It’s definitely going to hurt.” Your eyes widen. “Shhh,” he breathes, “Shhh, if you’re gonna cry don’t get too loud, I, I’ll try to be gentle, I will.” You swallow, steeling yourself, closing your eyes as your hands curl into fists, your nails digging half moons in your palms. You feel him part your thighs, and can’t even conjure the embarrassment at being so casually on display, “Such a pretty pussy.” He says, marveling at you. “You work for Bonten, you know that kinda makes you my property.” You don’t respond. “Kinda makes this pussy,” he mutters to himself, as he pushes two fingers inside you, “Kinda makes this pussy my property, what do you think about that?” You breathe in slowly, but you know an order when you hear one.
“P-please,” you muster, “Please use your pussy, god.” He cackles again, utterly tickled at the sacrilege.
“Are you damaging our property?” You hear a new voice, Rindou, and when you look at him he’s leaning against the door frame, an utterly neutral expression on his face.
“Fuck off,” Sanzu says, without missing a beat, pulling a soft moan, half pain half pleasure from your lips. “M busy.”
“She needs to go back to work.” Rindou presses, but you’re having trouble focusing on it. Sanzu shrugs.
“Not my problem,” He leans over you, “Is it my problem sweetheart, no, no it isn’t.” He reaches out and cups your bruised face, “You’re gonna sit still while I use you, aren’t you baby?” You nod, gritting your teeth. Rindou sighs deeply, but feels the odd power dynamic at play, clearly more logical, clearly more centered but also, in Bonten, he’s clearly out ranked. “You wanna watch,” Sanzu grins, “You sick fuck.”
“I want to make sure you don’t kill her.” Rindou protests, but you don’t have time to process that because Sanzu’s thrown your legs over his shoulder and is easing himself inside with a soft groan.
“Fuck, yes,” he hisses, watching the pain bloom on your face with his first thrusts, “Fuck that’s my girl, that’s my pretty girl, huh,” you let out a whimper and he picks up the pace, but you’re grateful he keeps from slamming his hips against yours, only jostling you a little bit. Tears still pool in your eyes, even as he reaches down and plays with your clit, even as you gasp and clench around him.
Rindou’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t move, waiting for Sanzu to finish, unable to tear himself away from you. With the light coming in from the window it’s almost like a renaissance painting, Sanzu is beastly, tyrannical, scarred and wild, and you arch your back dutifully, unable to keep still, perfect lips parted as he coos praise at you, tears falling from your eyes.
For you, the pain has given way to pleasure, and you’re lifting your hips to the best of your ability to meet him, his hands digging into your hips, occasionally reaching up to wipe some of your tears.
“So sweet,” he coos, “So good for me, hm, is that why they like you so much, you’re a good girl?” You swallow, unable to respond, he doesn’t seem to expect you to. He lets out kind of a strangled snarl and pulls out, cumming onto his hand and grabbing a pile of napkins from his desk. You let out a low cry of pain as he lets your legs fall onto the couch, but try to focus on breathing.
“Has she eaten?” You hear Rindou ask.
“Oh shit,” Sanzu says, “I ordered food and then I ate it, nah you should probably take care of that.” You feel strong arms lift you up off the couch, tucking you into their chest. “Yeah just bring her back,” Sanzu says, tossing the napkins in his office garbage can. “I’m supposed to be watching her.”
“Yeah.” Rindou shrugs. “Whatever.” You open your eyes and lean into Rindou’s chest, he carries you down the hallway and sets you on the couch in his office. You float out of your body, high out of your mind, and the last thing you feel is a blanket being tucked around your body.
You hear his voice on the phone, arguing loudly with someone, something about billing and private information. You open your eyes just once, and he scowls at you, tucking the phone back into his neck.
“Go back to sleep.” He snaps, and you do.
____
“Oi,” you hear, “Heard you skipped lunch.” You open your eyes and Ran is in front of you, his shirt somehow even more unbuttoned than it had been earlier, a single tuft of purple hair flopping on his forehead. You struggle into a seated position, feeling a bit better, he pushes something into your hands and you hear a crackle of plastic. It’s dark out, but the office is light in the hallway, you glance around Rindou’s office, wondering if he turned off the light so you could sleep.
“Thank you, sir.” You whisper, and peel the plastic off of the onigiri, stomach growling. Ran nods, inspecting you. Even after a few hours, you look a bit better, eyes more clear, bruises having retreated even by a degree.
“Look good,” he grins, plopping on the couch next to you. “Know what we’re gonna do tonight?” You shake your head. “You up for a party?” He boops your nose. “You’re my plus one.” You look down at your clothes, you’re still dressed in his shirt and you have no idea what Sanzu did with your panties. “We’ll change at my place, I had them send over some options.” He stands, and lifts you, putting you on his hip like a child, one arm hooked around your waist. “Hold onto my neck,” he instructs, and you feel his gun in its holder on his belt, digging into your thigh. “Let’s go.” He leads you through the office, which is largely empty. You pass a room where Mikey and Kokonoi seem to be having some kind of argument, and you catch the blonde’s dark eyes for a moment as you pass, shivering and hiding in Ran’s shoulder. Ran looks down at you, about to speak, when the conference room door opens behind you.
“Wait.” You recognize Mikey’s voice even before Ran turns around, adjusting your weight on his hip.
“What’s up, boss?” Ran says, oozing nonchalance in a way that feels nearly, like it could be, just a degree performative. There’s something about the way he says boss, maybe it’s the pop of the b sound, the hiss of the ss. You can’t quite put your finger on it.
“I promoted you.” He says, holding eye contact with you. You swallow. “You won’t be going back to your,” he pauses, and you wonder if he’s avoiding the word whore, avoiding the word slut, avoiding the word prostitute. “Previous employment.” He says eventually. “Haitani has informed me you have some debts that we’ve taken care of.” You raise your eyebrows, looking sharply up at Ran, whose face remains placid and unreadable. “You’re now,” a little smile, “An executive assistant. Better pay, healthcare, no more spreading your legs for men with money.” Your mouth goes dry, you wonder if he expects you to thank him. You find your voice.
“Thank you, Mikey.” You say softly, and feel Ran tightens his grip on you. Mikey shrugs.
“Technically,” He gives you a lazy smile, “You completed our initiation ritual twice, in protection of an executive, and ah, the men whose lives you saved now report to you.”
“I, I won’t know what to do,” you blurt, and Ran gives you a squeeze.
“I gotcha, sweetheart.” he says. “That it boss? Idiots forgot to give her anything to eat all day.” Mikey sighs deeply.
“Of course they did.” He shrugs. “No. Whatever. See you tonight.” Ran turns and takes you back out through the restaurant. You hide your face in his chest again, conscious of how much of your bruised body is on display. He helps you into a car and the driver takes off, you feel his lips on your cheek as the engine purrs.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, sitting you on his lap so that you’re facing him on your knees.
“Better, sir.” You say softly, and he takes your face in two large hands and kisses you, it’s soft and deft, he moves with more skill than you expect, and you’re suddenly reminded that he’s a few years older than you, as you feel one of his hands cup your ass, you feel the cool of his rings through your shirt. He hums with satisfaction, pulling away and tucking you into his chest.
“I don’t care, by the way, that Sanzu touched you.” he says, one hand on the back of your head as he pushes your face into his neck. You stiffen, in your experience, that usually meant men did care, very much. “It’ll never happen again.” Ran says, still sounding calm, still speaking like he’s discussing the weather, or lunch plans. You snuggle into him, he’s so warm, and you’re freezing. “If anyone else touches you though,” he says, rubbing the back of your head, “I want you to tell me. Understand?” You nod.
“Yes, sir.” Your head finally feels clear, and your ribs don’t ache as badly as they did that morning. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” He leans back, holding you tightly.
“What did you give me, today?”
“Oh,” he has to think about it, “Mostly downers with a little upper to keep ya conscious, what’s up though, you want more?” You shake your head. “Aw, what’s wrong, didn’t like napping?”
“It was hard to focus,” you explain, “And I,” he feels you wrap your arms around his neck, genuinely holding him back for the first time since he’d first touched you, his heart hammers in his chest. “I want to focus, when I’m with you.” You feel his lips on the top of your head.
“Can’t believe Sanzu couldn’t just get another fucking whore,” Ran complains, and the
scent of artificial grape fills your nostrils, and you know he’s taken a hit of his vape. “Your fucking ribs are broken.” You don’t speak, understanding that likely you’re not supposed to. “Whatever, though,” he softens, and it seems genuine. You feel his 5 o’clock shadow prickling against your face as he swallows. He reaches up and squeezes your arm, feeling the way you’re genuinely clinging to him.
“What happens now?” You mumble.
“You’re my executive assistant,” He explains, “You’ll help me with my schedule, attend meetings with me, get me drinks when I tell you to get me drinks.” You don’t have to ask if that means you’ll be staying in his bed, sleeping at his apartment. “You’ll have some ah, men reporting to you, you can think of them like bodyguards but trust me I’ve threatened them within an inch of their life, they know what happens if they touch what’s mine.” Logically, that should make you nervous, you realize, that he was so possessive, so willing to threaten, but you only feel a warm relief spread across your chest.
“Good.” You murmur, lifting your head, looking up at the only person who’d ever saved you from anything. The only person who’d ever bandaged your wounds, who’d ever cared if you’d eaten, ever cared if you’d rested.
“Yeah?” He says, a smile spreading across his face, his canines glinting as a panel of light passes over his face, the driver pulls up in front of his apartment complex but he doesn't move. You nod, and he runs his knuckles down your cheek, “Such a pretty girl,” he breathes, “Such a pretty, pretty girl.” You squirm with pleasure at his praise, and then wince. “Alright.” he grins, more businesslike. “Let’s getcha some food, and then dressed up, huh?” He ruffles your hair. “I wanna see how you clean up.”
___
Security is omnipresent, you realize, they’re there in Ran’s kitchen, standing outside his bedroom, one of them, Shion, you’re told, stands with you in the bathroom as you style your hair, and attempt to paint makeup over your broken face. You don’t speak to him, afraid at first of getting him in trouble, and then the silence gets comfortable. Ran takes phone calls as he gets dressed, apparently Bonten is acquiring a few new warehouses and they’re haggling the price a bit lower.
“It’s not a threat, Rodrigo,” You hear Ran say, through the bathroom door, you imagine him partially dressed, pacing in his bedroom. “It’s not a threat, it’s a statement of a fact, you don’t want to fuck us anymore than you wanna get fucked,” there’s a pause. “Tell ya what,” he says, “Tell ya what, let’s get dinner, tomorrow, bring your girl, and we’ll talk it through, see if we can’t come to an agreement.” He laughs, but it’s a joyless terrifying sound. “Well, we’ll see what happens after, we’ll see.” Ran pokes his head into the bathroom a moment later, you’re adjusting your eyeliner.
“Sweetheart, we’ve got dinner plans tomorrow, don’t let me forget.”
“Could I,” You turn to him, and his mouth waters, despite the constellation of bruises still visible, your form in the tight, red velvet wrap dress is positively intoxicating, your eyes are wide and a little fearful, he realizes what animal you remind him of now, doe eyed and skittish. “Could I get a notebook, something to write these things down in?” Ran shrugs, and glances at Shion.
“Yeah, get her whatever she wants.” He says, shrugging, and Shion takes a phone out of his pocket, “You wanna meet your bitches, baby?” He coos, offering you an arm. You’re still barefoot, your dress drags on the floor but he smirks at the haste with which you move to be close to him.
“Yes, sir.” You beam at him. He’s nearly dressed, for once in a full, dark suit and crisp white shirt. He’s so tall, you imagine everything has to be tailored and custom. He’s got another silver chain around his neck, his shirt only mostly buttoned, his hair coiffed. He shaved again, at some point, you realize, and he catches you staring.
“Eyes up,” he says, directing your gaze out to his living room. You almost don’t recognize the space as the room you’d shot two men in, but you absolutely recognize your bodyguards. “Boys,” Ran drawls, “Think you might owe the lady something.”
“Thank you.” The one of them with raven hair, and some kind of a panther tattoo on his neck steps forward, looking at the ground. “For saving my life.”
“Thank you Yuuta!” Ran crows, and the first man, Yuuta, takes a step back. “And you, Isami, anything to share?”
“Thank you,” the second man nods a bleach blonde head, “Thanks for saving my life.”
“Good.” Ran says, grinning. “Now, if anything happens to her you know that neither of you has any use to me, correct?”
“Yes sir.” They both say in unison.
“And you know what happens to things that have no use to me?” Ran presses, rubbing a circle in your lower back as he casually threatens their lives. You lean into his touch.
“Yes sir.” They say again. They’re both tall, you realize, though shorter than Ran, they’re more broad and muscular.
“Regrettably, I can’t spend every minute of every day with you,” Ran explains, “But they will,” he pauses, glancing around, looking annoyed, “Didn’t she ask for a notebook? God.” he runs his fingers through his hair, and it’s another few minutes before a leather book is pressed into your hands. Ran takes another phone call before you leave and you wait for him on the couch, sitting in between the large men. You look up at them.
“Ah, Yuuta, and Isami?” You ask, and they nod. “Okay,” you take a shallow breath. “Can I ask one of you to get me a drink, or do I-” Yuuta steps away immediately, returning in seconds with a glass of chilled white wine. “Oh, ah, I prefer whiskey, actually,” you look up at him and he shrugs.
“Mr. Haitani specified what we’re allowed to give you.” He says and you chew the inside of your cheek, taking a sip of the wine. It’s grassy, maybe something from California, or southern France, you wonder if you’d live to see those places. It’s winter now, icy rain beating against Ran’s wall of windows, and you wonder, shivering, surrounded by these men with guns, if you’ll live to see spring, to feel a warm breeze again. Ran saunters back into the room before you can start to catastrophize, handing you something. It’s your cell phone.
“A little embarrassing for you that there are no notifications besides work and your little otome game,” he teases, “But I assume based on the call history you call your brother most nights around 9PM.”
“That’s right before he starts chemo.” You say softly, taking it in your hand. “He’ll be nervous that I didn’t call yesterday.” Ran sighs deeply.
“Yes, well if Yuuta and Isami were capable of doing their jobs,” his words slice through the artificially heated air, “You’d have made that call.” You give him a little smile, and reach for him experimentally. He takes your hand, pulling you into his chest.
“Be nice, maybe?” You try, looking up at him with just a bit of pleading in your face, he leans down and kisses you.
“No,” he says when he pulls away, smiling widely in a way that conveys not a drop of warmth. “Lion can’t change its spots sweetheart.” You have one moment where you consider correcting him, but don’t bother. “How about, I don’t throw their worthless bodies in the river, and you,” he pauses mid sentence, kissing you again, “You just sit there and look pretty. I’ll be done soon.” You pout a little, sitting gently back down on the couch.
“I’m not quite, pretty again.” You murmur, your bruised face fresh in your mind. He shrugs.
“Look fine to me. Call your little brother.” You put on a big wool coat, it’s black with fur cuffs and a fur collar, you’d have to ask Ran if it would be possible to exchange it for something faux, wondering if he’d care. It’s freezing, and you’re barefoot, but you pad onto the stone, flanked by your new security.
“Hey,” you hear, there’s a little crackle, reception in the hospital was always bad. “I was worried, when you didn’t call?”
“Oh yeah,” you play it off, something about the warm familiarity of your brother's voice after the chaos of the previous days makes you want to cry. “I got into a bit of trouble, it worked out but ah, I got a new job.”
“Really?” You hear him shift a little in bed.
“Yeah, just admin work instead of cleaning, so um,” you tuck your hair behind your ears, “Scheduling, that kind of thing.”
“You’ll be so great at that!” He says. “I’m, ah, I’m proud of you. I wish I could help out more, I know you’re really on your own right now.”
“I’m not on my own,” you protest, just as Ran cracks the sliding door to the balcony to eavesdrop. “I’m not on my own, dummy I have you, and ah, I think with this job I might make some friends, so there.”
“Who would want to be your friend?” He teases, and you both laugh.
“No idea.” You wrap an arm around your ribcage. “You feeling okay?”
“Sure.” He says, “Sure never better.”
“I’ll come see you,” you promise, “I’ve been saving up, it’s just a three hour train up to-”
“I’m the reason you can barely afford a train ticket,” Your brother says, and Ran watches your face fall, “You don’t have to come see me.”
“I want to.” You try. “I want to come see you, I’ll um, I’ll text you, okay?”
“Yeah, alright, I’m um, I’m pretty tired.” He says, “They’re gonna take me in soon. I love you.”
“I love you too.” You barely get the words out before the phone goes dead. “Okay,” you say out loud to yourself, shivering in the cold, “Okay, I’m, I’m okay.” You glance over at the bodyguards and nearly catch Ran snooping but he ducks away just in time. “I’m alright to go back inside.” You say softly and one of them opens the door for you. The second you step back inside Ran sweeps you into a hug, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“Everything alright?” He asks, and you nod.
“Would it be possible for me to um, to visit him?” You look up at the executive who remains inscrutable. Ran considers, possible, yes, but it was a bad time for him to leave Tokyo, and a worse time for you to be out of his sight for more than a few hours.
“I’ll think about it.” He says. “It’s dangerous right now.” You nod, snuggling into him. “Are you worried about him?” He tries, testing the water, remembering the little whimpers you’d made that first night when he’d pressed on a bruise.
“Yes, sir.” You don’t let go of Ran. “Also I need to know the details about the dinner tomorrow, so um, so I can make sure you remember.” He grins at you.
“Of course.”
_____
The party is loud, and there are cries of joy when Ran walks in, immediately some gigantic man embraces him, and takes your hand, bringing it to his lips. You hold his gaze for a moment, and he offers you a wide smile.
“What did you let happen to such a pretty little thing,” He says, speaking to Ran, who raises a single eyebrow before forcing a smile. “You know, all of my girls are-”
“Routinely vaccinated against various viruses,” Ran cuts in, smirking, “I know.”
“Haitani,” He shakes his head. “You never change, and you,” he looks back at you, “Can’t blame a man for trying.”
“She’s actually my assistant.” Ran says smoothly, his grip on your shoulder tightening. “Not one of our girls.”
“Ah, that’s not what I heard,” He releases your hand, “You can call me Benkeii.” His voice is deep, a little booming, you have to fight the urge to cower. He takes a step to the side. “Make your rounds and then come see me.” You get the impression he’s talking to Ran, even though his eyes haven’t left you. Ran nods, pulling forward into the crowd. There are rows of velvet booths with curtains, a populated dancefloor, and a dark wood bar that Ran pulls you to, ordering himself a scotch and another glass of white wine for you. He doesn’t ask you what you’d like, and you don’t comment on it, glancing at Yuuta and Isami behind you. Yuuta looks calm, if tired, and Isami looks annoyed, you wonder if bodyguards who resented their charge were worth anything.
“Unfortunately I can’t babysit you the entire night,” Ran boops your nose, “And,” he takes a step forward, speaking in your ear. “You’re working.” You keep your face neutral, and then smile a little, as if he’d said something intimate.
“Of course,” your drinks arrive, Ran intercepts them, inspecting yours before handing it to you.
“I’ll letcha know what I need in a few,” he downs his drink, and pushes off into the crowd. As soon as his silhouette is obscured, your bodyguards step closer, and you wince. The wine is terrible, tasting sweetly cheap.
“How are you feeling?” Yuuta leans down and speaks in your ear. “Are you in pain?” You nod, you can still feel the dull throbbing of your ribs and head but it’s not prohibitive. “We can find you a place to sit.” Yuuta points, and not for the first time, you notice how much they go out of their way not to touch you. Somehow, they guide you to a booth where you sit by yourself, staring out at the throng of people. Normally, if you were working, you’d be making conversation with the richest looking man in the room. The girls used to try and guess who that was, based on bespoke suits, jewelry, and pure aura. You’d never had much luck, despite your brief brush with childhood wealth you’d spent your life on the outside of that world looking in. You take another gulp of wine, and finish the glass, pushing it away from yourself to find it nearly immediately replaced by a passing waiter. One of the bodyguards takes it before you can, looking at it before handing it to you. You consider taking your phone out, you’re in too much pain to dance, not that it would be allowed you assumed.
Your hands shake on the table, and you force the rest of the wine down, as you take a deep breath in through your nose. You see him then, indisputably, the richest man in the room. It’s not the suit, which has to be hand dyed, you decide, in order to get that purple that was nearly black, almost black, so deep and rich. It’s not the rings decorating his hands, or the flash of the heavy chain around his neck. It’s not the intricately beautiful tattoo work on his chest, curling up onto his neck. It’s not his posture, his smirk, his delicate features.
No, it’s the way he looks at you, the way he returns your gaze like a panther in the forest, the way he sizes you up, the little smile, intensity burning in his eyes, barely visible under a mop of light blonde hair. It’s the way he walks to you, swagger is the wrong word, his movements are sure. Deft. Intentional. You’re fully aware that he’s walking across the room to speak with you, and the crowd parts for him, his lazy smile hiding the intensity of his presence. He holds a hand out to you, his eyes flicking to the bruises around your wrist and on your clavicle.
“Wakasa Imaushi.” He says, and your bodyguards take a slight step to the side, allowing you to take his hand. “You look miserable.”
if you enjoyed pls consider commenting, reblogging or sending me a lil ask <3 thanks.
Two other WIP cosplays Koko and Sanzu, I am so stoaked with how well Koko’s hair came out considering that I braided my hair and painted it, instead of shaving
So like I’m deep into my Tokyo Revengers fixation rn so expect some cute TR art and cosplays
Side note ~ If any fanfic writers wanna do some Ran taking a reader out on a ride, please I beg, that smut would be iconic, if I could write I would..but I am lowly artist
Been absolutely banging these out, they are pretty relaxing and its fun studying the different art styles of your favorite anime, my favorite of this bunch is my Kakegurui version
